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“It’s okay if she is. I’m not going to judge you ... much.”
“Thanks, but my friend is real. She’s just in the bathroom.” When he just continued to look skeptical, she asked, “You don’t believe me?”
“Not really. See, it’s like this,” Evan began with utter seriousness, as if he was going to tell her a state secret. “In my experience, hot women are usually more than a little crazy.”
“Well, thank you for thinking I’m hot, but trust me, I’m not crazy.”
“That’s what all women who are crazy, say.”
“I swear I’m not,” she said, laughing again.
He glanced pointedly at the bling on her head. “Says the woman wearing a crown.”
“It’s not a crown. It’s a tiara.”
Evan rolled his eyes, letting her know the distinction wasn’t worth pointing out.
Paige lifted a hand up to touch the tiara and accidentally knocked it slightly askew in the process. “Jules made me wear it.”
“Jules?”
“My friend.”
“Right. Your ‘friend’.”
“She’s real,” Paige insisted, raising her voice on the ‘real’.
“I’m sure she is. And she made you wear a tiara … because why? Did you lose a bet?”
“No. It’s my birthday tiara.”
“Oh, well that makes sense, I guess. Actually, no it doesn’t.”
“Jules is responsible for everything I’m wearing tonight,” she explained as she tried to straighten the tiara, but only ended up making it even more crooked.
“Here.” Evan reached over and brushed her hand away so he could situate it properly for her. “And happy birthday, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“Wait. You said she’s responsible for what you’re wearing? Does she pick out your clothes?”
“Just on my birthday. It’s one of the rules—like ordering my drinks.”
He cleared his throat. “So … besides picking out your clothes and ordering your drinks, what else is your friend in charge of on your birthday?”
“Pretty much everything. Well, maybe not everything. I mean, she can’t sell one of my kidneys, or anything, but she plans out the entire evening—where we go, what we do. It’s all her. I basically hand myself over to her for the night.”
“You must really trust her.”
“With my life,” Paige said, then added, “and my hair.”
“Your hair?”
“She talked me into cutting half of it off tonight.”
He tilted his head. “Well, it’s kind of hard to picture what you looked like before, but you look great now. So, she didn’t steer you wrong there,” he told her, just as a woman appeared at Paige’s side and sat down on the stool next to her.
It took Evan all of one second to see this woman was the opposite of Paige, and not a ‘nice girl’. This woman was the type that would throw a man down on the floor and rough up his dick before riding it to a half dozen orgasms. Only then would she grant him permission to have his own orgasm and make him thank her for her generosity when he was done.
