Page 93 of Bourbon Sins
The music was trailing off and I knew it was time to go.
“Time’s up, Titan,” I said, and started to get off of him.
“Sunday, Goldie. Please.” The pleading look in his eyes was all it took. I nodded my head as I started to turn away. When I looked back, I saw him head off to one of the booths to take care of his amazingly thick erection, leaving me more confused than ever.
When I got backstage, I focused on what was to come next. I was grateful I would be seeing Jett soon, like he said earlier, because a little dose of Jett was all I needed to wash away all thoughts of Rex.
We were backstage discussing plans for next week when we heard a couple of doors slam and all the girls cringed, knowing Jett was not in the best of moods. Deep down, I wondered if it was because he knew Rex was here, but then I remembered he was at a meeting; my only hope was that he didn’t get back early enough to see Rex.
Kace’s phone went off and he pulled it out to read. His face twisted in confusion as he read his text message and then looked up.
A little unsteady, he said, “Pepper, you’re up. Get your ass upstairs.”
Just like that, the air was knocked out of me as all the girls whipped their heads around to look at me, as if I was about to say something, to argue that Jett called up the wrong girl. I had absolutely nothing to say, because all that was running through my head was pain, rejection, and confusion. I was stunned.
What the fuck?
The thought of Jett being with someone else, touching someone else and putting his dick in someone else after our special day out me made me utterly sick to my stomach. I didn’t understand why he would call up Pepper after the day we had together, after the night we shared, after the fucking morning we had, after the promise he made of seeing me tonight. He said he didn’t like games, so why the hell was he playing them with me right now?
Pepper gave me a pity look as she took off upstairs, reluctantly, which made me feel a little better, but the feeling of hurt . . . betrayal still rocked me hard as I tried to comprehend Jett’s choice of companionship for tonight.
My stomach rolled, nausea churning, my throat burning. Why the hell would Jett turn on his word of seeing me tonight? There was no way he could have seen Rex, at least I didn’t think he did. He was supposed to be at a meeting. Did he have a playback of security footage? Was he that controlling? If he hadn’t seen Rex, then why didn’t he invite me upstairs?
I grabbed my robe and headed for the stairs so I could take off my makeup and go to bed. I was not in the mood for any after-presentation celebrations, aka, let’s drink until Goldie gets wasted so we can make her do stupid things.
I started to walk upstairs when a firm hand pressed against my back.
“Lo, you okay?”
Kace, of course he would come after me to see if I was okay. If the man didn’t pull a bipolar mood on me every day, then I was shocked.
“I’m fine,” I said, without turning around.
“You can’t get attached.”
“I know!” I said a little more harshly than I meant. “I was just surprised, that’s all. I expected to see him tonight since he said he would be calling me up, that’s all.”
“The man is an ass and doesn’t know what he wants. I told you, you can’t—”
“Don’t Kace, alright? Just don’t.”
Kace backed away as I walked up the stairs, contemplating what the hell I had gotten myself into.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Poison and Wine”
JETT
I paced my office trying to figure out how the hell my dad was able to put in a bid for Lot 17 before bids were even being accepted. I spent the afternoon wining and dining some boring-as-fuck city officials, trying to find out more about the property that was consuming my life and, lo and behold, my dad’s name came up. Apparently, he’s been pulling some major strings with some higher-ups to get what he wanted. Fuck.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket and dialing his number, I pulled on my hair as I tried to figure out what my next move was. The phone only rang once before his maniacal voice answered.
“I’ve been expecting this phone call,” he said with a laugh. Smug bastard.
“You’re not going to get away with this. I’ll be sure of it. Lot 17 belongs to the kids, not some idiotic high-rise that only benefitsyou.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. As I see it and the many other men I’ve been in touch with, they think of Lot 17 as a perfect place for an apartment building and gentlemen’s club where men go to conduct business.”
