Page 11 of Cream Pie

Chapter 4

Javier

Fuck me sideways.

This is not good.

I stare at her, the girl from last night from somewhere in my dreams—the girl who I laid eyes on and knew was perfection. I just fucking stare at her, and all I can think of is the how she moaned. All I see when I look at her is the gorgeous body I know is under that dress. All I can think of is how she moved for me, and how she fucking tastes.

…And she’s my best friend’s fucking daughter.

The ground feels like it’s going to give out under me. My entire body is on edge, like I’m hovering over knives. And yet even with all of that, I look at Amy, and my fucking cock twitches.

I’ve known Marshall for years, and of course I’ve heard all about Amy. But I’ve never met her. Probably because we first met when I worked for La Société Rouge— the secret society for men of means that Marshall was a member of. Back then, I worked as almost a concierge of sorts—the man that makes things happen for a member. I was partnered up with Marshall, and over time, we became more than that, to the point of being great friends.

In the last few months, after Marshall left the society once he found Kendall, I did too—to work for him, actually. I’m now at Bane Financial, basically as Marshall’s second in command. Finance was always my interest, but when an old connection got me the job at La Société Rouge, the pay was too good to try and grind my way through the hedge fund game.

Marshall gave me the fast track to the top when he convinced me to come work for him. The man has given me so fucking much. Hell, he’s not even just a best friend, he’s like a brother, or a father as I like to joke, given his age. But the bottom line is, almost everything I have is because of him.

...And I just fucked his daughter.

Like, literally three hours ago. I’m willing to bet my cum is still dripping out of her tight little pink cunt, filling those lacy black panties with my white cream.

I groan.

Marshall clears his throat, and I turn to glance at my friend.

“So where were you last night?”

“Nowhere,” I answer way too quickly. I frown. “I mean, I went out.”

Marshall raises a brow, grinning. “Went out, huh?”

“Nothing crazy,” I mumble, feeling Amy’s eyes on me.

The thing is, this isn’t me. I never go out and just pick up girls. Hell, I know I probably look and fit the part to the letter—relatively young, rich, in great shape. I never knew my dad, but I can thank my Argentinian mother for my looks. Mom was a model back in the day, and she’s still a damn knockout.

But even with all of that, I don’t “go out.” I don’t “pick up girls.” I’m too busy with work, and besides that, it doesn’t interest me in the slightest. I’m not a one-night guy. Hell, for the last few years, I’ve barely been an anything guy when it comes to women. I haven’t had time to date at all—first too busy working my way through the ranks of La Société Rouge and then, being an executive with Marshall’s hedge fund. I did very well working for the society. Working for Marshall is making me a fucking millionaire.

Marshall turns away to speak to the minister, and I realize I’m just staring at Amy. She looks back at me, her brow furrowed and a little scowl on her face. I arch a brow at her, and she blushes before she frowns even deeper and glances away. The wedding planner walks over and rubs her hands together.

“It’s time!”

The ceremony is a blur to me. Kendall, Marshall’s bride and Amy’s best friend, steps down the aisle looking freaking radiant. They hold hands, they say the words, but fuck me, I’m just staring past them at Amy—Amy who rocked my fucking world last night. Amy whose sweet little pussy wrung every drop of cum from my balls. Amy who danced like a temptress and fucked like a demon. Amy whose pussy I can still taste on my tongue. Amy who I want fucking more of.

The crowd cheers, breaking my thoughts. Marshall and Kendell hold hands and waltz down the aisle. I hesitate, but the planner is shoving me forward.

“Hold her hand!” she hisses, pushing me into Amy.

I lock eyes with gorgeous brunette with the piercing blue eyes that fucking slayed me last night, and she blushes, her lips tight. We hold hands, hers so small in mine, and so warm. And we walk down the aisle.

Marshall and Kendall head off for pictures, and the rest of us are supposed to go to the main banquet hall and wait until we’re needed for more extended wedding party shots. But fuck, we can’t just dance around this and pretend last night, and this morning never happened. And I’m sure as fuck not going to just hang out with my dick in my hands waiting to see if Amy tells her dad everything.

I grab her and yank, dragging her off and into a side room. The door slams shut, and she whirls on me.

“What the fuck!” she hisses.

“What the fuck?” I growl back. “What the fuck you!” I spit. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

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