Page 27 of Double Bucked

When I get back to the table, the girls are refilling everyone’s glasses.

“Was that Bonnie?” Violet asks immediately.

Before I can confirm or deny, Mary-Kate lets out an exhausted sigh. “Ugh. She thinks she’s so much better than us since she became last year’s Belleflower Queen. But she’s been nothing but a disappointment, in my opinion.” She drops her voice, low and secretive. “Some women crack under the weight of the crown, you know.”

“She’s our friend,” I hear myself saying.

“Oh, Claire. You’ve been in Paris for so long.”

“Not that long.” My refilled mimosa tastes pulpy and stringy. I’ve lost the taste for it. I scan across the room, and my eyes find James. He’s still sitting on the bench, tall body hunched over his phone, scrolling through it.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, excusing myself. I get up and walk over to James. It’s not until my shadow touches him that he finally looks up from his phone.

I climb into his lap. He immediately uncrosses his legs to make room for me. I wind my arms around his shoulders, look him in all four of his eyes, and say, “Save me.”

“You’re drunk,” he observes.

His tall form makes me feel small. Like a little girl in Daddy’s lap.

Especially when he chastises me.

Except there’s nothing familial about the bulge between us.

I shift ever so slightly in my spot. “You’re hard.”

“You’re in my lap,” he says by way of explanation.

“Is that all it takes?”

“Every inch of your body turns me on, Claire.”

Those blue eyes. I could lose myself in those sky-blue eyes.

“Prove it,” I tell him. He tilts his head against mine. I whisper in his ear, “Come back to the table. Let me sit in your lap. Put it inside of me.”

“You’re being a brat.” His voice is a low rumble, like far-away thunder. It makes me shudder.

“Then tame me.”

I’ve never been submissive. To any man, ever, in my life.

Except James Calloway.

His dominance is a heady, erotic fog that makes it hard for me to catch my breath.

Dizzy, I unwind from his lap. He takes my hand, and together, we walk back to the table with the Promise Sisters.

“James! You’ve returned!”

“Just in time,” Mary-Kate says. “They just brought out dessert.”

Tiny egg cups with barely half a scoop of perfectly orange sorbet sit in front of us.

James takes his chair and casually pulls me onto his lap. I adjust my dress, and for the first time, I’m grateful for the huge, gaudy skirt. It covers both of our laps completely. No one notices when James slides a hand underneath my ass and tugs down his zipper.

“Sorbet?” Violet asks, motioning to the cups in the center.

“No, thank you.”

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