Page 111 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“I know!” I whispered,laughing, and we followed Miranda out.

The theater was done up with moreballoons, towering bunches that reached the ceiling on either sideof the proscenium. The wide steps that ran the width of the stagewere bisected with a red carpet that led up to an ornate blackthrone with red leather upholstery. The floor was crowded withguests, and as we crossed the room a smattering of applause grewinto full-on cheers.

An announcer in the DJbooth egged them on. “Esteemed guests of Ascend Red, please welcomeyour host, the owner of Ascend Red, Matthew Ashe!”

That was a bit much.Miranda must have added that touch. As we negotiated the shallowsteps, he went on, “Please join all of us here at Ascend Red inwishing Mr. Ashe a very happy birthday.”

As much as I loved mybirthday and all the attention that came with it, I cringed through“The Birthday Song.” How was one supposed to react to a room fullof people, some of them naked, singing to one?

“That’s embarrassing,”Charlotte whispered, and took my hand.

I laughed and shook myhead. “You think this is too much.”

“Your whole life is toomuch,” she said wryly.

That hit me in a sore spotI hadn’t expected. Had spending this time here soured her opinionof me? When we’d met, I’d been a guy in a baseball cap trying toavoid an alligator. She’d treated me like a regular guy, not abillionaire who needed to be impressed. After this, would she seeme as some needy asshole who wanted constant, lavishadulation?

The interminable musical interludeended in a round of cheers. Champagne corks popped around the roomand waiters moved into position to offer glasses to the assembledguests.

“Let’s all raise a toast tothe man of the hour,” the DJ added.

And then “For He’s A JollyGood Fellow” started up.

A waiter approached us witha bottle of champagne, and Charlotte clapped her hands. “Wait,wait, don’t open it! There’s something I’ve always wanted todo.”

She dropped to her knees infront of me, unhooking her top, and for a moment I thought I wasabout to get a much, much better toast. But she tossed the braaside, flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, and said, “Do thatthing where you open it, and it splashes everywhere. It’s sofilthy.”

“That’s what’s filthy abouttonight?” I reached for the bottle. The waiter had already begun toloosen the muselet. I finished, then gave the bottle a hearty shakebefore popping the cork loose with my thumb. The carbonationexploded a stream of white foam from the mouth of the bottle, allover Charlotte’s perfect tits.

Okay, yeah. I got the filthinherent in the visual metaphor. The fact that it wasn’t thesubstance it was meant to mimic somehow made it dirtier than if Ihad come across her chest myself, and whoops of laughter from thecrowd followed as she rose up on her knees, took the bottle, andran her tongue around the neck.

Wheels rumbled across thetheater floor, and I looked down to see Miranda and a few otherstaff members moving the enormous cake into position as the singingended. Everyone raised their glasses, the DJ played a drum roll,and the top of the fake dessert flew open.

“I knew it,” Charlottechided me slyly.

“Wait,” I said, because Iknew exactly what would pop out of that cake.

A gorgeous, large-breasted woman withdeep golden skin and a lean white man with dark hair jumped upenthusiastically, revealed from the waist up.

“Well played,” Charlotteacquiesced.

“That’s not the bestpart.”

The man’s eyes closed, hishead lolled on his shoulders, and the woman clung to him, her long,silky black hair falling into the frosting. They were both lost inecstasy, unable to hold back. The man gripped the messy rim of thecake top, gave it a push, and it fell open, revealing two morewomen inside, on their knees, sucking and fingeringfrantically.

The two recipients musthave been getting a full work up since the moment they’d all piledinto the ingenious contraption, and they reached their climaxesalmost at the same time; the woman’s knees buckled and her mouthdropped open in a moan we couldn’t hear over the delightedreactions of the guests.

Charlotte wound one armaround my thigh and looked up at me with adorably pleading eyes.“Let me give you my gift now.”

I reached down to caressher face. “In a little while. We don’t have to stay long, but Ishould at least thank people for coming.”

“No, Imean,here,” she emphasized. “Right here.”

She climbed to her feet and walked awayfrom me without another word, right down to the big cake. Staffmembers were helping the performers down and closing up thetop.

As I watched in disbelief, Charlotteleaned over, pressing her body into the frosting and bracing herarms on the rigid structure beneath. She looked back at me over hershoulder.

“Well?” Sheasked.

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