Cream Pie by Madison Faye

Chapter 7

Amy

The grin stretches wideacross my face as I wave Kendall and my dad off. It’s after the cocktail reception, after dinner, including my hopefully not-too-awkward speech to both of them. It’s after a bit too many glasses of champagne, and the cake, and some dancing, and my heart just feels so full as the two people I love most in this world step into the limo to head off for their newlywed suite.

Okay, so, I’m most certainly blocking out what happens in said newlywed suite, considering this is my dad and my best friend we’re talking about. I mean, ick. But then again, in the months and months they’ve been together, it’s gotten way less weird anyways. Dad blows me a kiss as he steps in, and I snort a laugh as Kendall immediately pops out of the sunroof to wave at me as they drive off into the tropical night.

I’m still grinning as I turn, but that smile quickly burns into something hot inside of me as I lock eyes with him. Javier is standing by the bar, looking… fuck. Looking like pure sex, if we’re being honest. He looks like freaking movie star mixed with a damn Armani model with that freaking perfect bone structure, those sharp dark eyes, that tanned complexion. And of course, that look that almost melts the panties right off of me.

Almost.

There’s a part of me that feels a thrill at this point in the night, with Kendall and my dad gone and another few hours of dancing and drinks left at the venue. It’s like your parents leaving you with a fully stocked bar and a credit card and telling you to “have fun.” Only the temptation here is the forbidden one in a tuxedo leaning against the bar looking at me like he wants to devour me whole.

But, no. Hell no. What happened last night, and this morning, and earlier, is just fucking wrong. Javier’s my dad’s best friend, and like seventeen years older than me.

And gorgeous.

And sinfully hot.

And capable of making me come unlike anything I’ve ever done with myself, or even imagined in my wildest dreams.

I quickly shake those thoughts away and drown them with more champagne plucked from a passing waiter’s tray.

“Wait, snag one for me!”

I smile as I turn to see Hope dancing her way through the crowd towards me. I swivel and pluck another flute of champagne off the same tray, which my red-haired roommate immediately slugs back with a big grin.

“Whew, thanks. I needed that.”

I glance at her flushed face and big happy grin and laugh.

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Hey, it’s a wedding, mom,” she teases. “Maybe try and relax and have a good time?”

“Hey, I’m having fun!”

“Oh, sure. Hanging out by yourself in the shadows of the dance floor is super wild, Ames.”

“Har har har. I was waving goodbye to my dad and Kendall and having a little break.”

“Hey, by the way, your cake was freaking awesome.”

I grin. “Yeah?”

“Um, hell yes.”

“What’d you think of the filling? I was kind of going for a cream pie feel.”

Hope snorts and grins at me. “So, you just wanted a cream pie?”

She wags her brows suggestively, and my face goes red.

“Ugh, don’t be gross.”

She giggles loudly. “You said it!”

“I was talking about cake!”

“Hey, Ames, who isn’t looking for a nice, warm, creamy—”

“You are fucking gross, I don’t know how we’re friends,” I groan, rolling my eyes as my face burns hotly. And of course, her crude jokes just make me think of Javier, and this morning.

“I want you to feel me there. I want you to feel my cum dripping out of your little pussy and leaking into these panties.”

I swallow the heat that rushes into my face, which is impossible considering the wetness that immediately blooms between my legs at the memory.

Thankfully, Hope lets the joke go.

“Well, bottom line, your cake kicked butt. You know, if this whole ‘going to a great school and getting fantastic grades and then working for your dad’s billion-dollar hedge fund’ thing doesn’t pan out,” she giggles, winking at me. “You could totally open a bakery or something.”

I laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh, and that speech rocked, by the way. I don’t know what you were so worried about.”

I smile widely, the heat and embarrassment from a second ago fading. “Yeah? Awww, thanks lady.”

Hope does a somewhat drunk looking curtsey, and I laugh again.

“I see your jet lag has worn off?”

She grins. “It has. The champagne helped.”

“You think?”

She rolls her eyes and flips me off, and I giggle. In fairness, Hope is normally a freaking librarian. Honestly, at school, we both are as we’re both taking almost twice the normal course-load, and neither of us are in the normal “freshman at college” mindset of just going wild, hooking up with guys, and blowing off class. We both work when we’re at school. So, screw it, if she wants to have a wild night—here at a wedding, on the beach in freaking Thailand of all places, screw it.

I mean, who the hell am I to talk after last night?

“The guest list doesn’t hurt either, does it?”

I glance at Hope to see her grinning as she nods past me. I turn, and my face blushes as my eyes land on, of course, Javier. Though, he’s not looking at me this time, he’s turned to smile at and shake hands with a really good-looking blond guy.

“Spotted you dancing earlier with tall dark and handsome,” Hope grins widely as I whip my head back to her. “Making new friends?”

I shrug it off as casually as I can.

“Um, no. He works with my dad, Hope.”

“Are all the guys who work for your dad total fucking hotties?”

I laugh causally, hoping it covers the heat that blooms on my face. There’s also that part of me that spikes with…well, I don’t want to think it, but it’s there anyways. Jealousy. It’s jealousy that I feel, with Hope looking at Javier like that.

“Well, he’s all yours anyways,” she winks. “Dibs on the Chris Hemsworth twin in the tux. Who is that?”

I frown as I try and place the blond guy with the square jaw that Javier is talking to, but I have no idea who he is.

“No clue. But you should probably go say hi and then causally drop that you’d like to take him back to your room and let him relieve you of your v-card.”

Hope blushes deeply and glares at me. Yeah, okay, there’s another reason we got along so well. We were both nerds in high school, and even if we “dated”, we never went so far that sex and everything that comes with that would tangle us up. So, yeah, there were boys, but at the end of the day, we picked getting good grades and working our asses off, and college is looking to be the same. I feel a little twinge of guilt about not telling her about my night last night, or that we’re no longer both in the same v-card club. But, maybe another time.

“Or maybe he can give you a cream pie,” I tease.

She makes a face, and I laugh. “Oh c’mon, Hope! Who isn’t looking for a nice, warm, creamy—”

“Okay! Okay!” she groans, turning as red as I was a minute ago, which is somehow even funnier considering her red hair. “Wow, we’re gross tonight.

I laugh, but when I turn, my eyes slip back over to Javier, and I don’t even realize I’m biting my lip until it hurts. Fuck, what the hell does he do to me? What sort of freaking voodoo magic does he seem to have over me? I mean just looking at him from across the dance floor has my pulse quickening and the heat pooling between my legs.

Just looking at him has me wanting more. A lot more.

He and the blond guy shake hands firmly again, and then the stranger fades into the crown.

“Here’s your chance, lady,” I wink at Hope, who just blushes again. She can be a lot of big talk, but inside, she’s really just still an awkward nerd, even if she’s also clearly one of those girls who really bloomed from high school ugly duckling into their own gorgeous swan in college.

“C’mon, seriously,” I nudge her, grinning. “Go make your move.”

“He’s like thirty.”

I roll my eyes, and Hope sighs. “Okay, fine, maybe I will.”

“Atta girl.”

“We’re dancing later though, I mean it.”

“Deal,” I laugh. “Good luck!”

She rolls her eyes and disappears into the crowd, and I sigh as I take a big sip of champagne and turn back to glance over the dance floor.

Instantly, my eyes narrow, and my grip on the flute in my hand tightens dangerously. Javier is still there by the bar, but this time, he’s talking to someone new. Someone gorgeous—like model-gorgeous, with long, shimmering chestnut hair, a bright white smile, and a green cocktail dress that’s about a centimeter away from being entirely inappropriate for a black-tie wedding, beach-side or not.

The girl has legs for freaking days, and her tits are practically spilling out of her top as she leans in to giggle loudly at whatever the fuck Javier has just said. My eyes narrow, and my lips purse as the… well, something wells up inside of me.

Goddamnit, it’s jealousy. That’s what I’m feeling as I glare at the two of them, and I hate that it is. But there’s no denying it either—watching Javier laugh and smile with this girl has me turning a shade of green not too off from the color of her damn dress. I know it’s stupid, and silly. I mean, what happened with us before was a total mistake, and it’s not like I’ve got a claim on him. It’s not like I should want a claim on him either.

But here I am, seeing red and green and seething as the girl traces a manicured nail over his chest. She reaches into her clutch, and my mouth opens wide with shock as she pulls out what is clearly a hotel room keycard and slips it into Javier’s hand. My teeth grind as her brows wag at him, and my entire body ripples with some sort of primal anger as she winks at him, blows him a kiss, and saunters away.

I’m moving before I can even stop myself, shoving my way through the dancers until I tumble out of the crowd right in front of him at the bar. Javier arches a brow, and his perfect lips pull back in a flash of perfect white teeth, which only sends a shiver of heat through me.

“We meet again,” he purrs. “Looking for a new dance partner? Or has trust-fund found his balls yet to ask you to—”

“What the fuck was that?” I hiss.

He frowns. “What was what?”

“That… that girl,” I mutter.

Slowly, he grins. “Oh, that?”

“Yeah, that,” I hiss, not giving a shit how fucking crazy and clingy I’m sure I sound.

“That was two adults having an adult conversation, little girl,” he growls.

“Fuck you.”

“Again?”

Heat blasts through my face, and my eyes narrow as he grins at me in amusement.

“Don’t make me slap you,” I spit. “So are you going?”

He frowns. “Going where?”

“She gave you a room key,” I say tightly. “Are you going?”

His gorgeous eyes hold mine, and he slowly pulls the key card from his pocket, twirling it in his fingers.

“What do you think?”

My jaw clenches tight. “Pig.”

Javier rolls his eyes. “Amy—”

“No, you know what?” I snap. “No. I’m over this. Last night happened, whatever. Let’s just go ahead and never fucking speak again, okay?” I hiss out quietly, glaring at him.

A waiter walks past us with more champagne flutes, and with his eyes still locked on mine, Javier calmly places the card on the passing drink tray.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Heat blushes through my face, and I rake my teeth over my bottom lip.

“Was that supposed to mean something?”

“Yes.”

I chew on my lip, eyeing him. “And what’s that?”

I gasp quietly as he suddenly moves towards me, not stopping until he’s looming over me, a mere inch or two from touching me. My pulse races, and my breath catches as I look up into his smoky dark eyes.

“It means this.”

Javier’s hand comes up with a different key card that looks exactly like the one for my bungalow, but with a different bungalow number on it.

My heart skips, and my stomach tightens for a moment at what this means. But that jealousy is still there. That petulant little temper at him is still there.

“I’m not that girl,” I mutter.

“I’m not ‘that’ guy,” he growls lowly.

“I’m not coming to your fucking hotel room.”

He grins infuriatingly. “Guess we’ll see.”

“Oh, please,” I sneer. “Says the guy trawling for young girls at dance clubs?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, my money is on you coming to my room,” I purr sweetly, heat rushing through me.

Javier’s brows arch in amusement, but his eyes burn with a dangerous heat as they lock on mine.

“That so?”

“Oh, that’s very so.”

He grins. “Well like I said, guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

“Looks that way,” I croon sarcastically. And then, somehow, I whirl on my heel, and somehow manage to not look back at the gorgeous man who’s invaded every single want and desire and secret fantasy I’ve ever had—the man who’s taken my virginity—as I march away.

And I want him more with every fucking step away from him.

The rest of the night blurs by. I dance with Hope, I have some more champagne, and my eyes seem to find Javier every single time I look up. Except finally, I look up from dancing with Hope, and he’s gone. I last another ten or fifteen minutes, have one more drink with my friend, and then, I call it a night.

I carry my heels back, walking barefoot through the sand and then the smooth-rock walkways of the private bungalow village to my own. Briefly, I wish I’d actually taken Javier’s key card before I chastise myself for being weak. I still wish I’d at least remembered the number…

Back at my own bungalow, I realize I’m freaking starving. I was so caught up with everything, and my speech, that I barely picked at dinner. The room service at a place like this is twenty-four hours a day though, so I call down for seared scallops and some sort of traditional Thai spicy mango salad. The concierge tells me it’s going to be at least thirty minutes, so when I hang up, I pad into the bathroom and start the shower.

I strip down, and my face burns hot as I remember the, uh, mess in my panties. And knowing what it’s from has my shivering in heat as I kick them aside and step under the spray. The hot water tingles over my skin, and instantly, I remember the last shower I took here—with Javier. More importantly, I remember what happened afterwards, and instantly, heat is blazing through me.

I squeeze my thighs together, and I can’t even stop myself as my hands slide over my body to cup my breasts. I tease my nipples, and gasp in pleasure as one hand slides further down, over my tummy. I spread my legs, and I moan as my fingers find my aching clit between my slick, eager lips.

Slowly, remembering the way he touched me, and tasted me, and fucked me, I start to roll my little bud. I whimper, panting in the shower spray as pleasure teases through me. I rub faster, moaning louder, before suddenly, I stop myself.

No.

No, what happened happened, but that’s it. Besides being totally off limits, Javier is clearly just another finance “bro” player. I can already picture him following that waiter back to the kitchen after our chat and his little stunt and grabbing that keycard back. He took his shot with trying to get me again, I said no, and now he’s probably fucking that brunette against her own vanity in her own bungalow, or whoever.

The thought has me seething, and instantly, and the urge for pleasure fades.

Prick, I think to myself as I finish rinsing off and shut off the water. I towel off and then wrap it around myself as I step back into the spacious bungalow. Instantly though, there’s a knock at the door, catching me by surprise.

“Well that was fast,” I say to no one as I walk over to the door, stomach growling. I tighten my towel and smile as I open the door.

“Thanks, if you can just bring it insi—fuck.”

There’s someone there with a tray of the food I ordered, but it’s not the concierge or a waitstaff.

It’s Javier.

We stare at each other, my chest rising and falling with my breath and my pulse racing.

“I—I thought you weren’t ‘that guy’ who comes to room—”

“Yeah, I lied.”

He storms into the room, and I whimper as the tray gets slid across the side table, the door gets slammed behind him, and his lips crush to mine.