Page 114 of Tips and Trysts

Everett snickers. “About time. It was bold of you to leave your hand sticking out for so long. Because let me be clear: If you ever touch Cora again, I’ll personally remove any part of you that touched her and ensure it’s displayed in a glass case in a Smithsonian Museum. Understood?”

Felix’s handsome face has never looked less handsome or more befuddled.

Everett sighs, bored of this. “Stop wasting my time. Are you incompetent? Give me your card.”

“My what?”

“Your card,” Everett repeats, holding out his hand. “Your business card. Do you want an interview with me or not?”

Felix fumbles his billfold to take out a business card, and Everett doesn’t even look at it before tucking it into my dress.

“Listen,” Felix levels, “I know there’s bad blood here, but an interview with you is exactly the thing that could get me in at 24N.”

Everett’s face pinches, and I know he’s about to verbally annihilate Felix, but I stop him. We have far, far more important things to deal with right now.

“He’ll call you,” I say.

Felix looks surprised but satisfied. Reclining, he crosses his arms again. “Okay, thanks, Cora.”

“Don’t ever say her name,” Everett warns, stepping forward, but I take his hand.

“We’re going.” I tug on his arm. “Come on.”

Once we’re in the hallway, I lead the way back toward the dining room. “Your father is going to come looking for us soon.”

“Wait,” Everett protests, rushing to fall in step with me. “What was that? You know I’m not going to give Felix an interview.”

“You better not,” I reply. “The last thing I want is for you to sit down with an entitled piece of shit who has no sense of humor. Seriously. When he tells a joke, he looks like an alien who hasn’t fully acclimated to his host body.”

Everett snorts. “I love you.”

I stop and put my hands on his cheeks. I could spend eons shit talking Felix, but I have to hurry if I want to make this work. “Take me somewhere you can fuck me.”

No objections. None. Grinning, he leads me straight into a small, empty event room with bookshelves along one wall and a bar on the other. It’s a few doors down from the private dining room, and it’s exactly what I need.

I head directly to the bookshelves. “Hurry,” I urge, hiking up my skirt. “I need you inside me for this to work.”

“For what to work?”

“Fuck me,” I order before I turn around, prop my phone on the bookshelf in front of us, and press the red record button.

When Everett realizes I’m filming, his face brightens. “God, you’re the best,” he says before kissing me.

Within seconds, he notches my panties to the side, enters me from behind, and takes me fast—borderline frantic. When I come, he presses the heel of his palm against my mouth, silencing me, and I bite so hard that I taste his blood.

He follows immediately after, and the heat of his cum makes my already sensitive pussy tingle. He groans, digging into my flesh and gripping my hips over the thin straps of my thong, and bites the back of my neck. “So good,” he whispers, blowing warm air over my tender skin. “I can’t believe how well you can take a dick. A generational talent, princess.”

And moments later, when I’m starting to catch my breath, Everett is still inside me—and the door behind us creaks open.

Most people would be mortified to have their father walk in on them balls-deep in their girlfriend, but most people care about what their father thinks.

Everett is no longer one of those people.

And because he’s no longer one of those people, he takes his sweet time pulling out of me, careful to put my panties back so the cum he pumped in me stays in place.

Likewise, I’m not one of those people who gets mortified, so I shamelessly take the five hundred dollars Everett procures from his wallet and tuck the bills into the top of my dress while watching the stony expression on Governor Logan’s face grow impossibly stonier.

Perfect.

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