Lucy's Lovers- Book Seven: (A Ménage Place Spin-Off) by Tatumn Dixon

Author:Tatumn Dixon [Dixon, Tatumn]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2022-08-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

​Miguel is called away by a group of friends and I’m left on the double lounger alone. I slurp what’s left of my tropical cocktail and then rattle the ice in an attempt to fill the quiet. An expensive bottle of champagne stuffed in an ice bucket harnesses my attention. I contemplate if I should pop it open or simply get off my ass and request a flute of bubbly from the bar set up inside.

​Before I make my decision, a voluptuous beauty relaxes into the space next to me, wearing nothing but the pretty smile on her face. Fawnlike eyes portray an air of innocence, but the sassy tilt of her head has me thinking otherwise. Spirals of dark hair cascade well past her shoulders, camouflaging her breasts until she playfully sweeps them away. Her black painted nails are cut incredibly short, making me wonder where she likes to put her fingers.

​“You’re Lucy, right?” she asks even though she seemingly knows the answer.

​“Mm-hmm,” I hum, grabbing the bottle of champagne from the chilled bucket and peeling off the foil covering the cork.

​“I thought so,” she replies, a sound of relief dripping from her words. “I’m Gemma. You and I have a friend in common.”

​“Oh?” I question, pointing at one of the empty flutes set up next to the ice bucket, inquiring if Gemma might like to join me for a drink. “Miguel?”

​Gemma nods and her spirals of dark curls bounce. “Yes, to the champagne,” she clarifies, reaching over me and grabbing two glasses off the end table. “No, to Miguel. I mean, clearly we both know Miguel,” she giggles as I unscrew the wire cage keeping the cork in place. “But he’s not who I meant.”

​Recovering from the delicious feel of Gemma’s breasts skimming over my skin as she grabs us flutes, I cover the cork with the palm of my hand and carefully twist until an explosive pop echoes across the terrace. Gemma loudly cheers, victoriously raising the flutes in the air as a bit of bubbly spills over the bottle’s neck. I pour us drinks and smash the expensive guilty pleasure back into the freezing ice.

​“Salute!” Gemma shouts, clinking her glass as I attempt to mimic her Italian accent.

​“Salute!”

​As I take my first sip, the fizz tickles my nose and I rub at it with my finger. “So, who is our mutual friend?”

​Gemma leans in close as if she’s about to share a secret. “Freya,” she divulges, offering me a knowing wink as if the sound of Miguel’s personal concierge’s name should ring a special bell.

​“Freya’s not here tonight,” I tell Gemma, in case she didn’t know. “She needed the night off…”

​Interjecting, my new friend concurs. “She told me she wouldn’t be at the party tonight, but she also mentioned you’d be someone I might love to meet.”

​The purr in Gemma’s tone piques my curiosity. As does the fact she’s staring longingly at my pussy. Testing the waters, I push the towel off my shoulders, reveal my breasts, and smirk as Gemma drags her stare up the front of my naked body.

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