Nellie and the Diamond Gala

Told you she'd go insane he replied a few minutes later.

Why did you tell her we were going together?

I could almost hear the smirking arrogance in his reply.

You wanted her to find out when she saw us together there for the first time? You don't think she would cause an absolute riot and start picking names for our hypothetical babies immediately?

I glared at my phone for a few minutes before responding.

Shut up.

See you in a couple hours, babe.

DO NOT CALL ME BABE.

You got it, babe.

I seethed for a moment before laughing. J.P. was such a prick, but I wouldn't have changed a thing about him. I was still dreading going to the gala, and still dreading going out in public with J.P. and dealing with the questions and the rumours and the suggestive remarks, but at least he wasn't Clinton Thibault.

And at least I was getting to try anal with him. It seemed appropriate, seeing as he was the person who had taken my virginity. Though, he hadn't known until I was sitting on his cock that I was a virgin, so I really had no concept of if he would be gentle or not.

Ten minutes before he said he was picking me up, I put the dress on, picked out a pair of shoes I thought I'd be okay to spend the night in, and went down to wait in the foyer. Kimberlee was on the board of whatever charity this event was for, so she and my dad had already left. My dad had been disappointed enough to call me "Eleanor" when I said J.P. and I would get ourselves to the gala, likely because he still didn't quite trust that I would actually show up. Thankfully, I managed to convince him, because I couldn't stomach spending the drive over with both my father and a man I was currently fucking.

He rang the bell a few minutes early. I opened the door and my mouth went dry as I took in the tall, perfectly dressed man standing in front of me.

J.P. had always been good looking. He was infuriatingly good looking, actually, the easy kind of handsome that just didn't seem fair. He had money, he was gorgeous, he was smart; it was an unreasonable amount of good fortune. I should have hated everything about him, everything he represented. I had spent the past three years trying to squirm out of the lifestyle my dad loved and surround myself with normal people, normal things, a life that didn't revolve around designer names and back room business deals.

That didn't stop me from being incredibly attracted to J.P, unfortunately, and seeing him standing in front of me with the sun behind him, his blond hair almost glowing, dressed impeccably in a well-fitted suit and tie that brought out the blue of his eyes only made that attraction worse.

"I know I look good, but you're going to have to tear your eyes away sometime so we can get going," J.P. said.

"Don't flatter yourself, I was trying to figure out how to politely ask if that was what you were really wearing," I shot back.

He burst out laughing.

"Your dad already gone?"

I nodded and he stepped through the door, brought a hand up to my cheek, and kissed me heatedly.

"Don't have time for this right now," I murmured against his mouth, though I couldn't stop myself from kissing him back.

J.P. snorted softly and pressed his body against mine.

"You look good," he said, his voice smooth and drippingly seductive. "Really good. I can't wait to fuck you in the ass tonight."

I slapped his arm as he started laughing again.

"C'mon," I grumbled. "Let's get this over with."

"The gala, right? Because I plan on taking my time with—"

"Yes, the gala, you fuckwit," I laughed.

"Fuckwit!" He feigned offense before holding his arm out to mine. "Careful now. Let me remind you which of us is getting fucked in the—"

"Oh my God, you're obnoxious. You need to stop," I giggled. "Anne-Marie is already suspicious. If you keep acting like this..."

"I'll be a perfect gentleman," he promised.

He wasn't a perfect gentleman, and to be honest, it was better that way.

I had been dreading the gala. I hated events like that: galas, charity dinners, luncheons, celebratory receptions, all of them. I hated schmoozing with people, I hated acting the socialite, I hated the fakeness and the pretentious snobbery and the politics. This life was the reason my mom had left my dad. She had never wanted me to be involved in it, and now that I was, I understood why.

She still didn't know, and I still had no plans to tell her. One more year, I kept telling myself. I could get him to pay for one more year of school and then I would be done with my dad.

The Diamond Gala was one of the biggest events of the summer and the one I'd been dreading the most. Stuffy, pompous elitists flocked to the ostentatious display to puff their chests and display their plumage and just be gigantic, stuck-up assholes. I was sure it was going to be unbearable, but having J.P. there made it kind of fun.

He was comfortable in settings like that, having grown up in the same social circles I had, but his comfort with the situation meant he also knew how to poke fun at it. One moment he was shaking hands and discussing business; the next, he was pinching my ass with a completely straight face as I tried to catch up with my high school volleyball coach.

"It's great to see you again, Nellie," Coach said. "And you, Jean-Paul. Thank your mother for inviting me."

"Absolutely," J.P. said. "She appreciates the work your group does, as we all do."

He shrugged. "It's my pleasure, and it's always nice to catch up with former students."

"Nellie thinks so, too," J.P. said. His fingers dug into my ass again and I covered my gasp with a cough. "You know, Coach, I remember hearing Nellie talk with my sister about having the biggest crush on you when she was on the—"

He was cut off when I slapped his arm hard. I mean, it was certainly true, and in general something like that wouldn't embarrass me, but Coach had known me when I was a lot less of a ho. J.P. dissolved into laughter, patting my ass lightly.

"I'm teasing, of course," he said good-naturedly. Coach nodded, seemingly unconvinced, before politely excusing himself.

"You're an asshole," I muttered to J.P. as we watched him walk away.

J.P. blinked at me innocently before smiling wickedly.

"Don't you dare," I said. "Don't make an anal joke."

"I'll let it slide this time, but—" his hand trailed back to my ass and squeezed, thankfully hidden by the cocktail table behind us "—and it's a big butt..."

I snorted back a laugh and J.P. smiled winningly.

"Cherie! You seem to be having so much fun."

Anne-Marie floated up to us, her arm looped through that of her on-again, off-again boyfriend Remy. She gave me that maniacal smile again and I rolled my eyes.

"Hi, Anne-Marie," J.P. said. "Have you run into Mom and Dad yet?"

"I saw them briefly speaking with the Thibaults." She gave me a pointed look. "It seems Clinton did not manage to find a date, so he's pouting with his parents at one of the back tables."

"Good," I said without thinking.

"Serves him right," J.P. said at the same time.

"Already speaking in unison!" Anne-Marie squealed. "You are so sweet together."

I shifted uncomfortably but J.P. just laughed.

"Sister, I wouldn't do such a thing to you," he said righteously. "Your friends are firmly off-limits."

"You're so full of shit," I whispered after Anne-Marie and Remy excused themselves a few minutes later. "How many of her friends have you fucked?"

"Like six, but you're my favourite," he murmured back.

I covered my mouth, trying not to turn red as I held a laugh in. "I bet you say that to all her friends."

J.P. shook his head, surprisingly. "You're the only one I've fucked more than once, too."

"I'm honoured."

"You should be." His hand gently squeezed my ass again, lingering longer than was strictly necessary. "How long do we have to stay?"

"At least until after my dad's speech."

"Hmm." He sounded vaguely disappointed.

"Jean-Paul," said a voice from behind us.

Almost instinctively, J.P.'s hand moved from my ass to the small of my back as we both turned.

"Mr. Belanger," J.P. said pleasantly. "Good to see you."

He shook hands with my dad and Kimberlee, smiling that charming, easy grin the entire time. I tried to copy it, but even I could tell it looked like more of a grimace.

"I'm a bit surprised you agreed to attend with Nellie," Dad said to him. "Pleasantly surprised, of course. I didn't expect the two of you were—"

"Here as just friends," I interrupted.

My dad shot me a cold look. "Of course. I meant that you were that close of friends. Although, Nellie, you could certainly do far worse than Mr. Marchand here."

His approval almost made me want to tell J.P. that the deal was off, though none of it was his fault. I bit back the urge to immediately contradict anything my dad approved of and smiled.

"Like Clinton Thibault?" I said innocently.

Kimberlee winced as my dad's arm tightened on hers.

"Well, I appreciate you saying that, Mr. Belanger," J.P. said smoothly. "You're right, it's surprising how close Nellie and I have gotten, but I can assure you we're just friends. No need to worry about me sneaking in the back door."

The bastard. I pursed my lips, trying with everything in me not to laugh at his innuendos.

My dad didn't seem to notice as he chuckled politely.

"Well, in any case, thank you for being here tonight," Dad said. "I know Kimberlee appreciates the support, as do I. Your father's firm has always been so supportive of the Diamond Gala. You are working with him now, correct?"

J.P. nodded. "Yes, for now."

"For now?" Dad repeated. "You have other plans?"

It was clearly a slip-up. J.P. hadn't meant to say the last part, but grinned and chuckled smoothly.

"Well, we never know what the future holds," he said.

"Hopefully it will hold a decision to stick with your father," Dad told him. "Jean-Luc's firm is renowned."

J.P. nodded. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they shook hands again. Dad and Kimberlee sauntered through the crowd to find their next social victim. We watched them disappear between designer gowns and impeccable suits. I couldn't ignore the tension; J.P. still had that casual, carefree grin on his face, but a muscle in his neck was taut and for once, he was quiet.

"What did you mean, for now?" I asked quietly.

He didn't answer right away. When he finally did, the voice that came from his mouth wasn't like anything I'd heard. It wasn't flirty or teasing or falsely polite. It was almost... serious.

"I don't know a lot of people who went to law school so they could sit around and read corporate contracts all day," he said. "I wanted to make a difference."

"So make a difference," I said.

He laughed, a dry chuckle instead of his usual warm laugh. "Thanks, babe. Couldn't have got to that conclusion myself."

I glared at him. "You don't have to be such a dick."

If I didn't know any better, I would have said a look of apologetic embarrassment flashed across J.P.'s face. I did know better, though, and decided I was seeing things.

"Right," he said. "I don't. And I didn't have to agree to come here and be your date and put up with all these questions, but for some damn reason, I did anyway."

I tried not to let his words hurt, but they did sting. J.P. seemed to sense that and again, that look spread across his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but I spoke before he could.

"Sorry to inconvenience you, Mr. Marchand," I muttered sarcastically.

J.P. opened his mouth to say something. No words came out, and instead, he studied me intently for a moment.

"You have no idea, do you?" he finally said.

Clearly, I had no idea. I had no idea what he was talking about, what he was referring to, or what he was trying to say. What I did know was that his words dripped from his mouth, that they were loaded with something incredibly enticing, and that the tension between us was threatening to bubble over. Before I could cut through that tension and ask what he meant, J.P. shook off the strange mood and grinned that melting, mischievous grin.

"Fancy a walk, Miss Belanger?"

He extended a crooked elbow to me. I raised my eyebrows and he responded by letting his eyes trail up and down my body. His gaze was strong enough that I felt it running across my skin like fingers, and an involuntary shiver crept up my spine.

I knew exactly what kind of walk he fancied.

"Ugh, don't talk like that," I scoffed, fooling neither of us as I took his arm.

We left the ballroom, J.P. leading us casually through the foyer before turning down a deserted hallway. My entire body tingled in anticipation, my panties already dampening as I glanced around, making sure no one had seen us.

There was a doorway near the end of the hall tucked into a small alcove, and that was where J.P. led us. The moment we were mostly hidden from view, he kissed me, pushed me against the door, and hiked the skirt of my dress up.

"It's really unfair," he murmured against my mouth. "You sitting there teasing me all night, making all these lewd comments, making me grab your ass until all I can think about is how I'm going to bury my cock in it in a few hours..."

"Oh, of course," I laughed. "I'm the one making lewd comments and forcing you to think about how you're going to slide your cock inside my tight little virgin ass and feel the way my—"

"See, exactly like I said." He nudged my thighs apart with his knee and grabbed my breasts, squeezing lightly as he pinned me against the wall. "How am I supposed to behave like a gentleman when you've got me hard as a fucking rock, Nellie?"

The hardness he was referring to was pressing against my panties through the fabric of his suit pants. I nipped at J.P.'s lip and he groaned, rubbing his cock against me again.

"Maybe you should let me take care of that," I murmured.

My hands moved to unbutton his pants. His hands joined mine and moments later, I was pulling his cock from his pants, he was shoving my panties to the side, and he had lifted one of my legs up to get better access to my pussy. Seconds after that, he was pushing himself inside me, I was biting my lip in an attempt to hold back a moan, and then he was fucking me against the door in that little alcove.

There was a sense of urgency, a need to rush to the finish line because every second we were away from the gala was a second that risked us being discovered. I held onto him tightly, his arm supporting my leg as he drove himself into me, both of us struggling to keep our breaths steady and our noises quiet.

I couldn't pinpoint what was so hot about it. It might have been the frustration of dealing with my dad and the night in general, or the strange look on J.P.'s face, or even just the knowledge that he couldn't wait a few more hours and had to fuck me right that second. It might have been that at any moment, someone could come around the corner and see us. Normally, that wouldn't bother me—it wouldn't even be the first time that year that I'd had sex in front of other people—but considering one of those people might be my father or J.P.'s sister or any number of others who could tell them what they saw, it was risky. Even for me.

Whatever made it so hot didn't matter. Even though it was fast and hard and completely carnal, I was going to come, and I murmured this in J.P.'s ear as he buried himself inside me.

He could have made a snide remark about how we were sure to be discovered, since I probably couldn't keep quiet to save my life. Instead, he brought his hand up to my mouth and covered it, kissing the side of my neck as he drove himself in me again and again.

I squirmed against him, feeling the delicious buildup of pressure, the climbing ascent of bliss, and then I was coming. My nails dug against the fabric of his suit, a high-pitched whine left my throat as the combined effort of me keeping my mouth shut and J.P.'s hand muffled any further noise, and I shuddered as pleasure rolled through me.

J.P. finished seconds later, grunting softly as he stilled inside me. I could feel him come, and as usual, I had a fleeting moment of shame knowing that I didn't make him wear a condom, that we were relying solely on my birth control, that it was completely moronic considering we weren't exclusive to each other, that we were both actively fucking other people. A moment after that, I could feel his cum dripping from me as he pulled out, and I shivered again. I couldn't deny how much I loved that feeling.

I hated that I loved the feeling. J.P. was a complete bastard, but for better or for worse, I trusted him.

The bastard grinned as he zipped his pants back up and tucked his shirt in.

"You okay?"

"Yep," I said. "That was much needed, thank you."

He laughed, smoothing a wrinkle from the skirt of my dress.

"I'm still fucking you in the ass later," he said.

"You better be."

He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

I pressed my lips together and tried not to laugh, but it was futile. "Come on. Someone's going to notice we're gone, and you know chances are good that it'll be Anne-Marie."

Someone may have seen us leave the main ballroom, or maybe just noticed that my cheeks were flushed and my lips were swollen. By the time we could leave the gala without causing suspicion, there was definitely a rumour going around that J.P. and I were together. Anne-Marie seemed to stoke it, nurture it, until I was certain she was trying to make it truth through sheer force of will. At least two people told me that J.P. and I were perfect for each other, as if that wasn't a complete insult. It took everything in me not to slap them.

We said goodbye to my dad and Kimberlee but purposely avoided Anne-Marie and Remy, as well as J.P.'s parents. We didn't bother with a valet; waiting in the foyer would just leave more opportunities for people to see us together. On the way back to his car, J.P. grabbed my ass no less than four times, only stopping when we almost got caught by Angelique Thibault. He didn't touch me again until we got to his car.

"Let me get that," he said chivalrously, passing by so he could open the door for me.

My heart fluttered momentarily, a light feeling that almost made me feel sick because it was too romantic, too couple-like, too not-a-casual-thing for him to do. The fluttering went away when he paused before getting the door handle, pushed my body against his car, and captured my lips as he pressed himself against me.

When he pulled back, I was breathless, and J.P. was grinning.

"Excuse me," he said. "I can't get the door for you when you lean against it like that."

"Fuck you." I blushed and smoothed my dress down before stepping away from the car.

J.P.'s lips brushed against my cheek as he opened the passenger door for me. "Soon. In the ass. Remember?"

"No, I'd most definitely forgotten." I climbed in the car, only continuing after J.P. walked around the vehicle and slid into the driver's seat. "Are you sure that's what you want? I mean, you haven't brought it up at all since we talked. I can't think of a single time you mentioned anything even remotely related to fucking me in the ass."

"Babe, I want nothing more."

"Don't call me babe," I grumbled, but J.P. only grinned.

The drive back to my dad's was full of tension. Not the uncomfortable, crawling, awkward tension that had been present during the gala, but a raw, excited, alluring tension that preceded what we were going to do. J.P. was mostly quiet as he drove, though I caught him smirking more than once and I knew what he was thinking when I glanced at his lap.

The bulge in his pants was one clue; the other was that I was thinking the exact same thing. There was a light, aching feeling in the pit of my stomach that wanted to tell J.P. to drive a little faster.