At our table, the only one left is the older man Ray introduced earlier, a judge, I think, watching the room with quiet interest.
I don’t get time to recall his name because Ray’s busy hand is under my dress and his fingers are pushing into my underwear.
“Ray,” I hiss, trying to swat him away.
“Don’t draw attention to us, Wynter,” he warns, leaning in close enough to nip my earlobe.
I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment . . . or maybe desire as his finger circles my sensitive spot. I gasp and he smiles, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Relax no one knows,” he whispers.
“ButIknow,” I hiss, trying desperately to fight the warmth building. “Oh shit.”
A chuckle escapes him. “That feel good?”
I grab his wrist. “This is ridiculous,” I mutter. “You have a reputation to uphold.”
“What is ridiculous, Wynter, is you trying to make me jealous,” he murmurs close to my ear. “Now, come on my hand and let me worry about who’s watching.”
His finger moves faster and a soft sigh escapes me. I glance to the judge who appears to be dosing off as his head lolls to one side. At least he isn’t watching.
The first waves begin to roll through me, slow and steady. Ray nips along my jaw until I turn to him, and then he kisses me, smothering any sound as I come.
I squeeze my eyes closed tight and bow my head, willing the feeling to pass quickly.
“Good girl,” he whispers, removing his fingers. I glance up just in time to see him dipping them into his mouth and sucking them clean whilst smirking my way.
“Oh my god!” The woman’s shriek cuts through the room, sharp and panicked.
I jolt, my heart lurching as I glance around, a flash of dread hitting me, wondering if we’ve been caught out.
But it’s not us. It’s the judge.
His wife is beside him, staring in horror, with one hand clamped over her mouth. “He’s dead,” she cries, her voice breaking. “My husband is dead.”
For a second, everything freezes, then chaos erupts. Chairs scrape back and voices rise as people rush forward, all trying to help at once. Someone shouts for a doctor, another for an ambulance. The calm, polished atmosphere shatters completely.
I don’t move. I can’t. I just stare at the man’s now greying skin tone and the way his body is slumped so unnaturally.
Why didn’t I notice?
Ray’s hand clamps around my arm, pulling me up and away from the table before I can even process what’s happening.
“Come on,” he mutters, steering me through the crowd, his body shielding mine from the surge of people.
I glance back once, catching a glimpse of his wife sobbing beside him. My stomach twists.
Vinn appears at Ray’s side, and there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “We should go,” he says.
Ray looks equally as amused as he agrees, leading the way out.
An uneasy feeling sweeps through me. This all feels too . . . arranged.
RAY
As we move towards the exit, I catch Joel by the arm as he passes.
“Did you get rid of the glass?” I murmur.
