The Worst Best Man

by Lucy Score

“I couldn’t tell if you two were fighting or flirting,” Pru yelled over the music. “Flirting? You’re joking, right? I’m way out of his league.”

“I’m a Kilbourn. We’re not capable of feelings. Only beneficial mergers.”

“It’s not that easy.” She deigned to look at him now, lowering her sunglasses. “Nothing worthwhile is.”

Their eyes met and held in the mirror. She was still mad. But marginally less mad. It must be his pheromones that he was giving off. Sexy, wealthy pheromones.

“You wanted answers, you wanted an apology. And none of that’s good enough. What more do you want from me, Franchesca?” he demanded, crossing his arms. “I want you to be real. Don’t play games. Don’t paint me a picture. Be honest. Don’t try to strategize your way between my legs.” She turned and started back toward the party and then paused. “Oh, and you owe Chip and Pru a pretty massive apology. Make it a good one.”

He looked pained. “I’ll give you anything you want.” “Newsflash. You don’t buy me, asshole. You earn me.”

Frankie tried not to look at him, but it was like telling an elementary school student not to look directly into the sun during an eclipse. It made her want to look more.

Chip reminded me that there is more to life than conquering the world. There’s living and loving to be done.

“That is exactly why it’s you and not Margeaux or Cressida or whatever the fuck the other one’s name is. I want that smart, wicked mouth of yours wrapped around my cock as you take me to the back of your throat. I want to hear my name from that mouth when I make you come with mine. I want the challenge, the chase. I live for it. You’ll make me work for it, earn it. And I’ll worship you for it.”

“I’m not going to stop until you give me what I want. You need to understand that. I’ll push your buttons, manipulate you. Whatever it takes. I won’t fall for you. But I’ll be good to you.”