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She clenches around me, arching her back and crying out behind her hand, and I hold her in place as I come inside her,pulsing, my gaze fixed on her face, her mess of red hair, the way her lips are parted on my name.
It’s over real fucking quick, and I pull out slowly, then remove a clean handkerchief from my suit pocket and use it to clean her up. I place her thong back over her pussy again, tuck myself away, and hide the mess we’ve made of my pants with my suit jacket. Marci excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She comes back fucking glowing, her hair tousled and her lips glistening with gloss. I go in after her and wash up, then meet her back at the spot.
“Wow,” Marci whispers. “Holy fuck, Jesse.”
I grin. “You do things to me.”
“And you’ve done a lot of things to me,” she replies with an adorable smirk. “Like ruining several pairs of underwear.”
“Yeah, well, you haven’t learned your lesson,” I say.
“And what lesson is that?”
Marci accepts a glass of champagne from me.
“That you need to stop wearing underwear around me.”
We toast to that and then set to work on the appetizers, both hoovering them at a rate that would put speed eaters to shame.
“Oh my God, these are good,” she says. “What are these things? Like little crab cakes?”
“Crab? I thought it was fish,” I say, shrugging. “You’re the expert.”
“It’s got this great, lemon zesty kind of?—”
Her phone rings, and I get it out of her purse for her and hand it over.
She answers the call and walks away a step. Before I can follow her, the door opens, and the mayor himself steps out. He’s wearing a golden pin on his navy suit lapel, and his jowls move when he talks.
“Mr. Taylor.” He claps a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Thirty-Seven
MARCI
“Billy?”I answer the phone. “I told you not to talk to me unless?—”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I walk further away from Jesse and the mayor, who are locked in a conversation that looks pleasant and I hope, is fruitful.
“You’re sorry,” I say, and I can’t help that my tone comes out flat. “Billy, I’ve heard this from you a hundred times before. What makes this time different from any other in the past?”
“Because I get what you were saying,” Billy says. “I messed up. I haven’t been easy to live with. I— I’ve been scared lately cos of Jonesy. I hear what you’re saying.”
“All right.”
I’m dubious about this. My brother has a history of asking for forgiveness rather than permission. It’s taken Jesse to help me realize that. That I’m worthy of being treated right by my family and friends.
“Can you meet me?” Billy asks. “I can tell that you don’t believe me, but I want to prove it to you. Do you think you cancome by my house? I’ve got a gift for you, and I want to show you that I’m going to change. I’ll quit alcohol and everything. Maybe that husband of yours can help me, uh, find a place where I can get help.”
Jesse smiles at me from across the hall. He’s happy, doing what he said he would do, shmoozing, rubbing shoulders with the people at this party, and he’s finally got his opportunity with the mayor. A guy with a camera exits into the hall and snaps a photo of them together.
“Please?”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something, Billy,” I say. “I can’t run out to?—”
“Please, Marci. I promise, it will be worth it. It’s a real gift. And it’s not a stolen car this time. And I’ve got news about Jonesy too. I managed to strike a deal with him.”
