Page 127 of Not A Whisper

We all breathe heavily, silently basking in the afterglow of our escapades.

Jason pulls out first. I hiss at the movement. He chuckles, collapsing into the seat beside Grant. I watch through hooded eyes as he tucks himself back into his pants. When he’s done, he reaches for me. Like the doll they claim I am, Grant passes me over to him. As Grant resituates, Jason moves to help me with my dress. As I pull it down, I’m hyper aware of their cum dripping down between my legs. With how tight the dress is,I’ll be forced to deal with their mess smearing across my thighs until I can get to the bathroom.

“I need to clean up.”

Jason hums happily before replying, “I like knowing we’ve made you a filthy slut.”

The car slows. It’s then that I realize we’ve arrived. As Michael takes a turn so that the front of the hotel comes into view, anxiety rips holes in the contentment that’s settled over me.

“We’re serious about you sticking close to us tonight, dollface.” Grant glances at me as he straightens his tie. “One of us will be at your side all night.Don’twander off.”

I frown. “Why? Are you worried something is going to happen?”

“No, Garry will be on his best behavior in public, as always,” Jason assures me quickly. “I’ve been to a few of these things with them and each time he’s the epitome of perfection. Charming, suave, humble, the works. But given that we’re there to embarrass him, it’d be wise to stick close.”

Thinking back to my conversations with him, I have a feeling just letting Garry speak to me as he has been in front of others would thoroughly ruin my night.

Grant crosses back to the adjacent seats to grab my shawl and clutch. When he returns to sit with me and Jason, he hands both items to me. Quickly, I throw the shawl over my shoulders then get to work pulling out the compact mirror and lipstick I’d brought along.

Flipping open the mirror, I pause. My eyes are bright, pink has gathered in my cheeks and my lips are slightly swollen. I look good. Humming, pleased with what I see, I slide the lipstick across my bottom lip.

“I told you once that my life is all about appearances and who we surround ourselves with, do you remember that?”Grant asks as I finish up. At my nod he continues, “Usually, I arrive with Garry. He likes to roll into these types of events looking like a family man. He’ll also tend to have his closest friends, people with the deepest pockets, with us. It’s a power move and everyone at these things knows that. When I don’t arrive with him, instead showing up with my own crew and my new bride—that’snotCarmilla—people will speculate.”

“Rumors willfly,” Jason chimes in, looking thrilled with the idea. “Rumors he can’t control, and everyone knows how much he loves control.”

Grant nods. “It’ll be another strike against him when his own son sits apart from him, another when we all bid against him this evening, and the final blow will come when I publicly denounce all ties with him. Everyone will see that Garry’s control has slipped on his key player. And if he can’t control his son, what else can’t he control?”

I stare at Grant, surprised by the excitement in his voice and the sparkle of darkness in his eyes. He’s looking forward to this. Alot. Despite the dangers that come with pissing Garry off, Grant is eager to watch his father’s public embarrassment.

As the car pulls to a stop, Jason and Grant exchange a glance—communicating without a sound. The look is heated, full of unspoken passion. I smile as I look away, wiggling off Jason’s lap. They might not do labels, but by god are they devoted to each other and their cause completely.

The engine still runs but I can hear the driver’s door opening and closing. Michael’s coming.

Jason grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. My heart flutters as he plants a kiss on the back of it. Our eyes meet, and in the dim light, I enjoy the twinkle in his.

“Grant might get to show you off tonight, but Trip and I will be right there with you too,” he assures me.

I grin at both of them. “Don’t let Trip punch anyone. Thelast time I dressed up, he growled and glowered at everyone. There were some close calls.”

Both Grant and Jason chuckle as the door opens.

“Trip will behave,” Grant says, taking my hand from Jason’s to hold it. My fingers wrap around his, grateful for the connection. “Ready?”

I nod. “Let’s go give Garry the proverbial bird.”

Thirty-One

I’m unprepared for the photographers and gawkers that line either side of a short red carpet that leads to the front doors of the fancy hotel before us. Trapped behind a velvet red rope partition, we’re relatively separated from them. Still, I’m thrown off-kilter as camera lights flash and questions are thrown at us. Bystanders have their phones out, recording with excitement. It takes a second for me to fix a smile on my face. Another to allow my shoulders to drop to maintain the pretense that I’m at ease.

Grant squeezes my hand reassuringly as we start toward the tall glass doors, opened for us to enter. Behind me, I can feel Jason’s presence, a warm wall at my back.

I can also feel the very real ache between my legs. Oh god, when I told them no, I should’ve meant it. A shiver of discomfort runs up my spine as I force myself to walk.

“Hey, it’s Grant Gipson! Where’s Garry tonight?”

“Carmilla’s inside, Grant. Does she know you’re here with someone else?”

“Grant—who’s your date tonight? She’s beautiful!”

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