“And your girlfriend? Where is she?”
Ira nodded to the balcony, where a head of blond glanced at them in stoic boredom.Guess she’s not the jealous type. Jamie didn’t want to imagine what a jealous Kathleen Allen was like – and if Jamie were the target of suchjealousy?Shudder. No one fucked with the richest heiress in town. Well, save for perhaps the one she called her partner. Who took another practice swing and encouraged Jamie to try.
“At this rate, we’ll be the last to go,” she said, watching everyone else go before them.
“You want to go last in this game. That way, you can hit everyone else’s balls on the way by.” The way they enunciated balls was both amusing and childish.I expect nothing less from a self-professed flirt and player.Nevertheless, Jamie did not expect Ira to step behind her and put their arms around her torso.
“Excuse me, but you want to use this kind of form.” Jamie’s face turned an embarrassing shade of red as someone who was not her fiancée held her against their body and manipulated hers until, well, her ass was pointed in an awkward direction. Namely, at Ira’s crotch.
Half of the other croquet players, including Adele, stared at them. Jamie laughed it off. What else could she do, especially when Ira followed through on their insistence and showed her how to properly swing the mallet?
Her laughter was ill-timed. The moment the first blundering guffaw spilled out, she had two sets of fiery eyes on her. Kathleen, hanging over the edge of the country club balcony and promising death to anyone who came near her…
And Etta, returned from the restroom and standing not too far behind Kathleen. She crossed her arms and stared at them, displeased.
Oh, fuck. Jamie was still as a statue when Ira stepped away as if they had done nothing out of the ordinary.Oh fuck, I smell like their cologne. Sweet cologne. A far cry from the scent Etta wore.Oh fuck, I smell like another dominant.Right after mine fingered me. At my engagement party. To her.
She flashed Etta a smile and waved. Surely, nothing was wrong here.
“Hey, you gonna take your turn?” Ira called to her.
They did not win the croquet match, thanks to Jamie,whose form remained absolute shit throughout the game. Thankfully, Ira did not offer to help her sort out her stance again, content to wipe the landscaped floor with every other player there.I have one of the best croquet players ever on my team, and I can’t even help us win. Story of Jamie’s life.
Did not help that she kept glancing at Etta, who perched at the edge of the balcony and watched her with great interest.
She dreaded going back up there. While Kathleen spared her a single look before going back to her drink, Etta was less forgiving.
“Did you have fun down there?” No way was she amused. Not about to rip her any new holes in her body, but definitely not impressed.
“Um, well…”
Nobody paid them any mind as Etta took her by the arm and drew her closer. “I’ve got a few words to exchange with you, Ms. Joy. Care to join me inside?”
Did she have a choice?
Etta put a firm hand on the small of her back and directed her into the clubhouse. A million words sprang to Jamie’s tongue, but she bit them all back, waiting until they were in a private billiard room with the door latched behind them.
“I wasn’t flirting,” she announced, doing her best to sound confident. Maybe if she kept her shoulders back and her voice straight, she could convince Etta that no relationship foul play was afoot. “They offered to show me how to play better… not that it helped, as you probably saw.” She opened her bag and looked for anything to amuse herself with. Phone? Makeup?
Fiancée’s hands gripping her hips as she grinded her thighs against Jamie’s ass?
“I leave you alone for five minutes…” Etta’s voice stole her heart and attempted to abscond with it elsewhere, like a rogue plucking her off the side of the road and taking her back to a hidden camp in the woods. What isshe going to do with me there? Defile me?A woman could hope. “And you’re already handing yourself over on a pretty purple platter to another.”
“I didn’t… they didn’t…”
Etta covered her mouth with her hand and pushed forward. Jamie gasped into her palm, eyes closing. “I must not have done a good enough job at the table. I thought we had fun. You certainly were wet enough by the time you were through.”
This was an Etta that Jamie thought had gone into hibernation. Possessive.Because she owns me.For six months, I had to do absolutely anything she wanted so I could get my money.Not only did she get more money than she bargained for, but she got the girlfriend too. Now, that woman she originally fell in love with was back – with a vengeance.
Jamie whimpered into Etta’s hand.What is she going to do to me?She was both excited... and wary. If Etta was actually angry at her, this would take a turn she didn’t want. Namely, she might be out on her ass instead of having this woman she loved pressed against it.
“Maybe you need to be reminded of who it is you’re marrying. Don’t you know? Notanywoman gets to marry me.” Her hand jerked up Jamie’s leg, squeezing her outer thigh as an arm pushed her skirt out of the way. “I don’t want to marryanywoman. I need someone who is going to obey me when necessary. Someone who knows that I’m her Mistress. Now…” Etta slowly lowered her hand, “Do you understand that I’m the only one who gets to touch you – at all?”
“Yes…” The more her dominant energy enveloped her, the needier Jamie became. Even she didn’t know that it could be so easy to feel like this after what had happened earlier. Whatdidhappen earlier? Etta, asserting herself all over the place. Reawakening what made those early days of their relationship so great. Jamie swallowed, her fiancée’s hand pushing into the bust of her dress and groping her breast.She used to pay me to do this.In the beginning, Jamie went along with it. For the money. In time,however, she realized how much she enjoyed and got off on Etta’s dominant tendencies. She wanted to be the dominant woman in all areas. In business. In social situations. In sex. It was all that mattered in her head.
“What was that?” Jamie’s skirt was up over her ass, Etta’s hand meandering between her legs as if they had something to prove. “I couldn’t hear you, my flower.”
Growls like that could be bottled up and sold as an aphrodisiac. “Yes!”
