Page 43 of Contention

Feeling slightly out of control, the alcohol going to her head, Kara can’t help but burst out with nervous laughter. Unbelievably, Calais shifts closer to her, his arm going behind her across the top of the seat in what normally she would have considered to be a come on, only he’s not coming on to her at all.

In all honesty, it feels possessive. He’s not even looking at her. He doesn’t even want her to be here, after all.

“Okay,” Kara says, feeling the overwhelming urge to cackle like a witch. The scent of him is surrounding her and she feels like suffocating. This is all too much and she has the overwhelming urge to absolutelyconfirm who the manon theother side of the limo is. She pretends that she’s not already physically overwhelmed by the man beside her, instead focusing on the one across from her.

She gestures with her hand, palm up, babbling stupidly. “When I hopped in this hot ride, I heard the 80’s jams and thought, cocaine?Nah. But look! There is! This is really, I meanreally, quaint. Completely wholesome. Introduce yourself, before I give you an awful nickname in my head.”

Nicknames are her specialty, after all.

Across from her, his face transforms from bored to interested with a certain wicked gleam. The blonde smiles that big million dollar grin that nearly melts Kara’s insides, absurdly. “Dietrich.” He winks at her, vivid eyes bright, magnetizing, dilated. One could almost ignore the half-naked woman sprawled across his lap, the woman whose tits he’d just snorted a line off of.

He omits his last name, but Kara has a very good idea on that little piece of absent info, because she’s already heard a few things about this man, even though she’s never met him or seen his face.

Dietrich. As in, Dietrich Bittinger, financial backer ofDark Mirage. His little side-gig and hobby, because he’s also the heir of a wealthy banking family who owns the vast majority of shares in shipping companies. She smiles at him weakly, vaguely feeling intimidated. As twisted up as she is inside, she loathes feeling afraid, but loves the adrenaline rush it provides. “Well. Next time I’m feeling cocaine and the need for unbearable heart palpitations, I’ll call you.”

He holds her gaze, peridot eyes twinkling with amusement. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over here and try some snow? I’m happy to make room for you.” His smile takes on a shark-like quality.

Alarm sirens are faint in Kara’s head, though she realizes they should be far louder.

Before he can push one of the girls beside him away to make space for Kara -because no way in hell is she getting near this devious womanizer, not with a ten foot pole- she quickly makes her excuse, which is mostly truthful, “No. Nonono. I’d probably get so amped up that I’d fight every last one of you.”

The way he laughs with full-throated appeal tells Kara that he doesn’t actually believe that she would. “You’re funny,” he says lightly. Then his voice changes a bit, dropping into that same flat command that he gave to the escorts. Even his eyes darken. “Now, get over here.”

An arm settles physically across her shoulders and instantly Kara is on guard, because Calais shouldn’t be touching her, the thought of him draping over her making her pulse skyrocket. She glances up nervously, but he isn’t looking at her.

Her eyes catch on his throat, just inches away; Kara swallows thickly.

“She’d punch you out, Dieter; how are you going to look with a black eye in your board meetings?”

“Hn. Where did you say you know her from?” Dietrich asks, now swapping back to his more pleasant tone. “If she isn’t a working girl. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“You’re a nosy prick tonight, aren’t you?” Calais chuckles, despite a warning edge in his voice. “Christ, Dieter, leave the girl alone.”

“Why?” His eyebrows rise in mocking intrigue. “Are you afraid I’ll come on too strong and scare her away?”

Looking unamused, Calais rebukes him once more and Kara isn’t sure she gets why he’s putting up such a stink about it. “Spare me the pleasure of this conversation. She’s not your type. She’s with me.”

“For now.” Oh, that ridiculously lovely man on the other end of the limo gives them both a look from under lowered lashes, “Why are you being such a cunt, Nick? It’s just a girl. How in the bag are you? You’re getting on my nerves.”

Mockingly, Calais replies, “Need a box wipe for your pussy?”

One of Dietrich’s eyes twitches at that, expression going flat, unfriendly. The air in the limo turns stifling, an aura of anger brewing like a distant storm.

Walter leans forward, breaking their line of sight to each other. “Guys, what the fuck? Stop being a bunch of fags.”

After a moment of intense staring, Dietrich lets his shoulders ease off the tension as he sits back, plastering a fake grin on his face. “All good, Walter. Just havin’ some fun.”

What is this, a fucking pissing contest?Kara vaguely wants to disappear. No one has asked her where she would rather sit, after all. Maybe shewouldprefer to be by the blonde…but not likely.

“Yeah, well, chill the fuck out.” Walter has his hand up Jade’s micro dress and her eyes look a little glazed. “You’re both being massive cock-blocks. And nothing pisses me off more than a couple fucking dweebs blocking my dick.”

Dietrich laughs and just like that, the air clears.

Calais makes an exasperated sound before taking an irritated drink from his glass, jawline tight, exhaling hard through his nose. Trying to shake off his tension, his face returning to its normal stoic state.

The blonde is letting one of his companions undo his tie, playfully wrapping it around his neck like a noose. The other escort tries to kiss him, but he averts his face, denying her. Adapting, she instead begins unbuttoning his black dress shirt, nibbling at his collarbone as he tilts his head back. Kara flushes, watching his lips as he bites back a sigh. She finds herself eyeing the sliver of teeth sinking into his lower lip, his eyes closed.

His legs are spread and Kara’s eyes can’t stop from walking down the line of his front, settling on his groin, the tightness of his slacks, his free hand relaxing on his thigh. She wonders what that hand feels like, gripping-

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