I nearly screamed into the fruit platter.
“I hate you so much,” I said, reaching for a slice of mango and shoving it into my mouth just to silence myself before my inner Omega decided to say some dumb shit again.
B?tt? giggled and leaned back, smug as hell. “You’re glowing. You’ve got that post-orgasm-no-orgasm-could-still-orgasm-any-second look.”
“I didn’t orgasm,” I mumbled through mango. “That’s the problem.”
“Oooh,” she sang. “So you’re just sitting there, full of need, all squirmy and desperate. I bet if he looked at you right now, you’d slide off the seat.”
My pussy clenched.
Again.
I stared at her. “You’re evil.”
She shrugged like that was her brand. “I know. But I’m also right.”
I was about to argue, to defend myself with some weak virgin speech, when I felt it.
That presence.
That shift in the air.
I didn’t even have to look up to know he was there.
Connor.
My best friend’s father.
The man who fingered me against a wall while I bit my own tongue to keep from screaming.
The man who sucked my nipple like he owned it and whispered good girl with a voice that should be illegal.
I felt him before I saw him.
And when I looked up, there he was..standing across the room in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, forearms flexed, jaw tight, eyes locked straight on me like he’d been watching from the second I walked in.
Our eyes met.
My thighs clenched.
My breath hitched.
And that fucking voice in my head returned.
“Told you, kitten. It won’t be long.”
I was so fucked.
Before I could even process the fact that Connor was staring at me like he was two seconds away from dragging me back into that cabin and making me beg for his cock, Be??a stood up on the couch like the chaotic yacht princess she was born to be.
She snatched someone’s glass of champagne mid-stride, raised it above her head, and screamed at the top of her lungs, “ATTENTION EVERYBODY!!!”
Half the room turned. The other half already knew better and just smiled because when Betta Vexx announced something, it was either about to be iconic… or illegal.
She kicked her heels off with dramatic flair, tossed her curls back like she was in a goddamn music video, and shouted again..louder, bolder, glowing like a girl who had just swallowed summer itself.
“WE’RE HERE TO FUCKING HAVE FUN, BITCHES!!!”
A few people clapped. Someone cheered. One of the waiters looked slightly terrified. I just buried my face in my hands, already bracing for what was about to come out of her mouth next.
“Drink as much as you can!” she yelled, pointing to the bar like it was the promised land. “Fuck like your life depends on it! Have a threesome! Have a fucking foursome! Suck some t**s! Lick some balls! GO WILD, MOTHERFUCKERS!”
The room erupted into chaos.
A guy in the corner who looked like he hadn’t spoken all day suddenly threw his drink in the air like she’d baptized him. Two girls started making out behind a champagne tower. Someone turned the music up so loud the floor vibrated.
And Bell??
She was just getting started.
“Fuck!” she screamed again, laughing as she took a messy sip of her champagne and stumbled half a step. “I feel wet just talking about it, but thank God I have a man! So all of you nasty little sluts better keep your horny hands off him!”
I choked on air. Literally. My lungs collapsed. My soul left my body and ascended.
She pointed at the crowd like a preacher on coke. “I don’t care if you’re straight, gay, pan, Omega,
Alpha, Beta, whatever the fuck. Just don’t be boring! If you’re not moaning by midnight, you’re doing summer wrong!”
Someone behind me actually stood up and shouted, “HELL YEAH!” while spinning a bottle of tequila in the air like a baton.
“We’re on a fucking yacht!” Betta roared, her curls bouncing like a crown of chaos. “Surrounded by hot people, open bars, and salty sea air! This is not the time for moral behavior! This is not the time for modesty! This is the time for ruin! For slutdom! For terrible decisions and toe-curling orgasms!”
I was crying. Laughing. Dying inside. Blushing so hard my skin felt radioactive. And Connor?
Connor was still staring at me from across the room like I was the main event and he was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.
B???? took one final bow, almost fell off the couch, then raised her glass again with a wicked grin and yelled, “And don’t fucking mind my dad, okay?! He’s hot, yeah, but he’s off limits! So if you value your life, keep your panties on around him!”
Everyone gasped. I died. My pussy clenched so hard I thought I was going to faint.
Then B?lt? burst into laughter.
“Haha! I’m fucking joking!” she cackled, waving her champagne glass like it was a magic wand.” Fuck!! What’s the point of summer if we’re not gonna get laid?!”
She turned in a circle on the couch, arms stretched out, curls bouncing like she was leading a religious sex ritual.
“Let’s get fucking naked! Let’s get DRUNK! Let’s ride some strangers like they’re mechanical bulls! Let’s wake up tomorrow with bite marks, broken heels, and no regrets! Let’s suck dick on the deck, moan into pillows, break beds, and blame it all on the heat!”
The room erupted into chaos. People started cheering. Someone popped another bottle. A couple already started making out by the balcony doors. And me? I was curled into the corner of the couch like a trembling virgin girl in the middle of an actual sex riot.
“Come here, baby,” B?lla purred suddenly, her voice dropping from riot leader to full-blown seductress as she turned toward her man, who was sitting just across from us, looking at her like she was both a goddess and a demon.
He smirked, opened his arms, and before I could blink, she was on him.
I mean literally..climbing onto his lap, straddling him in her tiny shorts like it was a fucking performance.
Her champagne glass was still in one hand. Her other hand was gripping his shoulder like she was about to ride him into the afterlife.
And she started grinding. Like not subtly. Not flirty. Full-on moaning-into-his-neck grinding, hips rolling like she was choreographing a porno.
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