Page 6 of Release Me
He snorts, signalling the server to fetch him a drink. I don’t miss the way he takes in her tits before looking at her face. The second she turns her back, he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, nodding towards her ass appreciatively.
I bite my tongue.
‘You own a lap dancing bar,’ he reminds me. ‘You can drink whiskey and mingle with beautifulnakedwomen every night of the week.’
‘It’s a gentlemen’s club, one of thirty-six bars and nightclubs I own, as you know.’ I correct him. ‘And I don’t dabble on my own doorstep.’ I learnt the hard way when one of the girls confused sex for love. Since then, I prefer to sleep with strangers.
‘Huh,’ Anthony scoffs. ‘We must get a night at your “gentlemen’s club”.’ He makes quotation marks with his fingers. ‘Soon.’
Anthony has no qualms about paying for a “private dance” —what the women decide to do in the private rooms is entirely up to them. But every time I see my friend disappearing with another dancer, it twists my stomach. If Rebekka knows he’s cheated, she turns a blind eye. Would he offer her the same privilege?
I doubt it.
‘Sure.’ I shrug, even though I want to scream at him.Scream that he’s a fucking idiot, and that he has it so much better at home.
My brother Caelon chooses this exact moment to walk in with his wife, Ivy. Ivy’s an avid reader–mostly romance—Caelon swears it makes her hornier than a teenager at prom. Over the past couple of years, Rebekka has formed a close friendship with Ivy and my other sisters-in-law, Scarlett and Avery, so I’m not surprised to see them here tonight, but I am fucking grateful. They make a beeline straight for us.
‘Little brother,’ Caelon slaps my back in greeting. I’m the youngest brother of five, and they take great pleasure reminding me of that. We have a sister too, Zara, she runs the newest subsidiary of Beckett Enterprises, Beckett Deluxe Design Agency—a hugely successful interior design company. Zara’s the youngest, but I regularly get called Baby Beckett. Or little Beckett. Both piss me off more than I’ll ever admit. Maybe because the woman I’m obsessed with is five years older than me. ‘Great to see you. I thought the place would be packed with women,’ Caelon says.
‘So did I.’ I smirk, immediately falling into my usual default mode–—family joker, class clown, the brother who no one takes seriously. ‘And I’ve told you before, there’s nothing babyish about me.’ I kiss Ivy’s cheek, leaving my lips a beat too long just to piss Caelon off. When I do pull back, he’s scowling, but I’m not done yet. I shoot her a wink, making a show of reaching for the buckle of my belt. ‘Want me to show you?’
Caelon thumps my bicep and shakes his head. ‘Don’t even fucking think about it.’ He’s still pissed about the time I picked her up from his house and took her to lunch. He should be thanking me. Someone had to give him the kick in the ass he needed.
‘Ah, what?’ Ivy plays along. ‘I want to see if it’s true what they say.’
‘What do they say?’ Anthony leans in with a grin.
‘Becketts are blessed.’ Ivy and I chant in unison. She sniggers and I grab my glass of whiskey and raise it in the air with a grin.
Caelon orders a round of drinks, but my eyes keep gravitating towards Rebekka. She works the crowd with natural grace. Her blonde hair is twisted into one of those elaborate updos she favours, exposing the long, graceful line of her neck. Silk clings to her curves as she drifts across the room, every sway of her body a torment I can’t look away from. I never knew it was possible to be jealous of material until I met her.
‘Earth to Rian.’ Ivy waves a hand in front of my face.
‘Sorry, I was—’ I tear my eyes away.
‘I saw what you were doing.’ She cocks a perfectly plucked eyebrow, then glances at Rebekka. ‘You’ll get yourself in trouble, Baby Beckett.’ She elbows my ribs playfully.
‘Only if I get caught.’ I wink again, and she chuckles, assuming I’m joking.
I am joking, aren’t I?
I laugh it off, but the truth is, I want Rebekka so badly it carves me open.
Guilt sluices through my stomach.
Anthony doesn’t appreciate what he has, but Rebekka is still his wife.
The bell rings, signalling for us to go into the main ballroom for dinner. Ivy links one arm through mine, and the other through Caelon’s. Anthony downs his drink and places the glass on the bar. ‘Rebekka’s speech is up first.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘I’m going to need a few more of those to survive it.’ He looks pointedly at his glass.
We’ve known each other since we were three years old, but sometimes I wonder if I know him at all.
‘There’ll be wine on the table.’ Ivy assures him with afrown. ‘Let’s go support your wife.’ Her blue eyes dart towards me as if to say, ‘Is he always an asshole?’
I shrug. If he was, I only noticed in the last three years.
The trouble is, now I have noticed, I can’tun-notice it.
‘Head in without me.’ I slip my arm from Ivy’s, and I swear Caelon’s locked jaw swings free. ‘I’m going to relieve myself.’ I scan the room for the bathroom sign.
