Filthy Rich, Wild with Lust

Chapter69

If I’ve only learned one thing in this life, it’s this...

If you lean into the light, love will always find you there.

All my love,

Tee

Xoxo

Thank you so much for reading.

You are adored.

Blake

“I’m going to book the flights tonight,” I say as I push through the heavy glass door leading into the suit shop.

“No.” Henley sighs. “Do you even listen to me at all?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Antony smirks as he listens.

In a world full of chaos, there’s only one thing that I know for certain.

Family matters, and I’ll do everything in my power to take care of them, even if they don’t want me to.

I walk up the aisle of suits and begin to flick through them, annoyed. “You’re having a bachelor weekend whether you like it or not,” I tell him.

Henley is getting married, and it’s up to us to make sure we go all out to celebrate the occasion, because if Antony and I don’t make this happen... who will?

“I don’t need a bachelor weekend,” Henley replies. “I just want a quiet poker night at home.”

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “This is why we are never getting married, Ant; damn woman has his balls in her purse. He’s that unbalanced; it’s a wonder he can f*****g walk.”

Antony keeps looking through the suits. “What look are we going for here?”

“I don’t know, something weddingish,” Henley mutters, distracted.

“Well, what look do you want?” I snap, annoyed. “White jacket, black jacket, f*****g green pants. Fairy. What?”

“What is up your ass today?” Henley fires back.

“You and your ridiculous notion of no bachelor weekend. It’s a rite of passage to go to Vegas to be wild, watch strippers, smoke cigars, and drink all the alcohol.”

Henley curls his lip in disgust. “Strippers could not be further from my mind.”

I exhale heavily and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Are you hearing this bullshit, Antony?”

“Unfortunately,” Ant replies as he keeps looking.

Henley answers his phone. “Hey.” He smiles as he listens. “Yeah, okay.” He glances up. “You two want to go to Marconi’s with the girls tonight?”

“Yeah.” Ant nods as he continues to flick through the suits.

“Nothing better to do, I guess,” I say with a shrug. I’m not interested in dinner; all I really want to do is lock in Vegas.

“Uh-huh,” Henley replies. “Just looking now.” He listens again. “I don’t know, send me a picture.” He twists his lips as he looks around the shop. “I can’t see any.”

“Is that Juliet?” I ask.

He nods, and I snatch the phone from his hand. “Jules.”

“Blake,” she replies. I can hear that she’s smiling.

“You need to talk to your p***y-whipped boyfriend; he thinks he isn’t having a bachelor weekend in Vegas.”

“Good,” she replies. “I’m good with that plan.”

“What is wrong with you people?” I roll my eyes. “I guess you’re having a knitting party for your bachelorette party, are you? Could you two be any more f*****g boring?”

“Probably not. Listen, Henley is a big boy. If he wants to go to Vegas, he can go to Vegas; it has nothing to do with me.”

“Ahh.” My mouth falls open, and I put the phone on speaker. “Can you repeat that, Jules?” I point to the phone as I hold it out for the boys to hear.

“Henley is a big boy, and if he wants to go to Vegas, he can go to Vegas,” Juliet repeats.

“Thank you.” I smile. “This is why we are marrying you, sweet Juliet.”

“I’m not marrying you, Blake,” she replies dryly.

“So you think.” Antony smirks as he goes back to flicking through the suits.

Henley holds his hand out for the phone.

“Goodbye.” I end the call and pass him back his phone.

“I wanted to speak to her,” Henley replies.

“Tough, she’s gone and we have things to do.” I walk over to the rack of suits. “I think you need a white jacket and a black bow tie, and we’ll wear black dinner suits.”

“Why black dinner suits?” Ant asks.

“Because I look good in a black dinner suit.”

Henley rolls his eyes, unimpressed.

The salesman comes out of the back. “Can I help you?” he asks us.

“Yes, please,” Antony replies. “Henley here is getting married, and we want him to look as pretty as a picture for his big special day.”

Henley gives Ant the side-eye, and I smirk. “And we’re going to need a white jacket.”

The cool, crisp flavor cleanses my palate; there’s nothing better than a cold beer after a hard, long day.

The restaurant is loud with chatter, and a tantric beat sounds through the oversize speakers. Marconi’s is the hippest bar in town—luckily, because we come here way too often.

My eyes linger on the opposite end of the table, and as Rebecca licks the salt from her margarita glass, I feel it all the way to the tip of my c**k.

Her dark hair is up in a high ponytail, her rounded, full breasts peek out of the V-neck in her dress, and as she smiles I’m quite sure that somewhere in the distance I hear a choir of angels break into song.

Ugh. I sip my beer, unimpressed with where my mind is going... again.

This woman...

She’s my neighbor, my friend’s ex-wife... my best friend, a member of my own group of friends, a quite close one, actually, and frankly, she’s impossible to avoid.

Rebecca.

Beautiful, smart, and funny. She’s the whole package.

We’re in the friend zone.

So deeply that she thinks of me as a big brother, but behind closed doors, I carry a sordid secret: I’m the big brother that fantasizes about doing unspeakable things to her body.

In my dreams she uses me just as hard as I use her.

“You seeing Cindy tonight?” Henley asks.

“Yeah.” I sip my beer, my eyes lingering on the forbidden fruit.

“When’s her expiry date?” Antony asks.

“Must be coming on soon, surely,” Hen replies.

Rebecca laughs out loud at the other end of the table, and my stomach flutters.

Cut. It. Out.

Rebecca Dalton is as far from my type as physically possible, a good girl who’s still in the trenches as she gets over her marriage breakdown. Her husband cheated on her with his secretary.

What a f*****g i***t.

“Well?” Henley asks, interrupting my thoughts once more.

“What?” I glance over to him.

He raises his eyebrow in question. “Cindy’s expiry date?”

“Oh...” I sip my beer. “I don’t know. She’s not Mrs. Grayson, that’s for sure.”

“Nobody will ever be Mrs. Grayson,” Ant chips in.

“What makes you say that?” I ask.

“The kind of women you like.” Antony widens his eyes, and Henley chuckles.

“f**k off.” I sigh, unimpressed. “We can’t all be f*****g boring like you two.”

He’s nailed it in one... there probably won’t be a Mrs. Grayson. I can’t help that I have a definitive type, and if I could change it, I would.

I like the bad girls, the ones with s****l stamina who can f**k as well as I can.

As much as I want them to, innocent women do nothing for me.

If I do end up on a date with one, I find myself glancing at my watch all night, wishing for it to be over.

Rebecca stands, and my eyes drop to her defined quad muscles in her minidress. I sip my beer as I imagine them around my ears.

“You’re drooling,” Henley mutters under his breath.

I snap my eyes away, rattled at being caught. “f**k off.”

“You need to make a move already,” Antony whispers.

“I’m not making a move.” I sip my beer again as I watch her walk to the bar. “We’re not like that.”

“Well, while you’re not being like that, she’s going to f**k her ex out of her system with every Tom, d**k, and Harry,” Henley replies. He taps his bottle with mine and winks sarcastically. “It’s going to be fun to watch you watch her.”

“f**k you.”

I clench my jaw. I hate the thought of her sleeping around, but there’s no way around it; I know she needs to do it. She’s only ever slept with one man before, and as her friend I want her to have fun and experience the world.

“You’re an i***t,” Antony mutters under his breath. “Someone’s going to steal her right out from under you.”

“Only she isn’t under him.” Henley winks.

“You know what this is?” Antony replies.

“Karma.”

“Shut. Up. Don’t you two have anything better to do than stalk me and my love life? It’s f*****g creepy.”

“Not really.” Hen smirks.

“Anyway... karma has nothing to do with this. Rebecca and I are just friends.”

“You wish.”

We fall silent as she comes back to the table and sits down; she glances up, and our eyes lock. She smiles softly as she pushes her chair in, and my d**k throbs in appreciation.

Yeah... this has to stop.

Rebecca

“Everything all right over here, ladies?” Ronald smiles as he bends down and kisses Taryn’s cheek.

“Perfect, Ronny.” She beams up at him.

“Let me know if anyone gives you any trouble, okay?” Ronald calls to the table.

“Thanks, man.” The boys all politely smile and nod.

Life is weird. If someone told me five years ago that my group of friends would be the people who live in my cul-de-sac, neighbors, I would have thought they were crazy.