Spellbound

53

BRICE

I was putting on an all-black fit but changed my mind once I heard Soleil comment on my lack of style. I ask for her opinion, what she'd like to see me in, and she pulled out a series of items from my closet: shorts, a t-shirt, a patterned short-sleeved shirt, sneakers, and socks.

I would have disregarded the outfit until I saw she was also dressed in a similar palette from the short/skirt thing she wore as bottoms to the the silk, short-sleeved shirt. The colour looks better on her than me. The contrast is amazing against her skin especially with the gold jewellery she added. I go along with it because I like the fact that we look like a couple in our matching attire.

She spent more hours in front of the mirror doing hair and makeup than she did in the shower and getting dressed. She finally puts on a pair of nude sandals that matches her small clutch.

I used to think matching couples were corny but damn do we look good together. I wrap an arm around her and take a photo of us. I post it on IG and tag her with the caption "One and Only".

Damn you're weak! You folded faster than a sheet and in under a day.

Her inner monologues are funny at times when they aren't out to eviscerate my character. I interlace our fingers and ensure to keep her in front of me when we enter the club. I can't get enough of her and I also want to ensure that no one tries anything. Soleil is stunning and I don't miss the guys that eye her as we make our way to our table.

In the VIP section, I pull her onto my lap when she attempts to sit down beside me. Now that she's letting me touch her I feel like I'm making up for lost time.

"Brice..." she whines trying to move off.

My grip tightens.

"I want everyone to know you're taken," I whisper in her ear.

Stand up, bitch, stand up!

I kiss her neck and ask her, "What do you want to drink? Everything's on me."

He's so thoughtful. 

Bitch ,what? Of course, it's on him. After all the bullshit he's put us through this past week? Time to make his pockets hurt if that's even possible.

She taps a finger on her chin in thought. "I want champagne. Veuve Clicquot."

"Done."

The table orders and I add our drinks to the list. They soon arrive with scantily clad girls holding up sparklers. I take the opportunity to tilt Soleil's head back and taste her lips. I only break away after they pour her a glass and leave. Then I help myself to the bottle of Henny.

She's takes a few sips then leans in to tell me, "I want to go down and dance with everyone else."

Well, she'd not going alone. I swallow down what's left of my glass and she does the same. We head to the main dance floor downstairs where she's shaking her hips and grinding on my dick. After a couple of songs, we go back upstairs for a break where she has another glass of champagne and rests her feet before wanting to go back down again.

I've never been much of a dancer, but I'm more than willing to entertain Soleil and her whims.

"My feet hurt. I think I need another glass," she shouts into my ear on the dance floor after a few more songs.

And up we go. This time I make sure she has some water before we head back down for round three. I don't want her to wake up with a hangover tomorrow if it can be avoided. Despite keeping my eyes on Soleil for the most part I feel a set of eyes on us. Call it a sixth sense if you will.