Chapter 24: Showtime.

February 5, 6:55 PM. Topanga Canyon Inn reception desk.
“Oh, here they come,” says one of the hotel workers behind the desk, a young white girl with brown eyes, short red hair, and a small silver septum ring. Her name tag reads Carol. “Get ready,” she adds.
The other girl, the one the remark targets, looks different: young white with long dyed-blue hair and green eyes. Her name tag says Jane. Both are slim and about the same height. They watch Brian and Kate approach the building.
“Hmm… Not the ponytail one. Looks like he found himself a new slut. And… yeah, looks like a blonde this time. Did the old cock sleeve for black cock finally tear or what?” the blue-haired girl snickers. Carol leans in and lowers her voice. “God, I just don’t get it. Judging by her appearance, that girl’s got money, talent, her own place. Why would she want to fuck around with some stupid, rude rapper who—“ She stops, suddenly remembering who she talks about. “Oh shit, he’s getting closer.”
Brian and Kate step closer now, their laughter carrying across the lobby. Kate notices the girls staring and gives them a curious look, her eyebrows lifting slightly.
“Huh. Did they hear us?” Jane whispers, shrinking back.
Carol schools her features into professional neutrality as Brian approaches. “Good evening, Mr. Jackson. Welcome back to Topanga Canyon Inn.” She shifts her gaze from Brian to Kate, sizing her up like merchandise, all while keeping that bright customer-service smile plastered on her face.
“To be honest, we miss you, Mr. Jackson. Lately you visit the west wing a lot more… It’s very quiet with not many people in the east wing. We start to think you get… bored with us.”
Brian remembers he really has not been here with Aria in ages, at least not in the east wing of Topanga Canyon Inn. But it is Aria who suggests this exact spot.
Brian snaps out of the memory and looks back at Carol. “Nah,” he says, voice smooth, rolling through his throat like molasses. “I ain’t bored. Just been… busy.” His eyes flick to Kate, who already watches him with that secret little smirk of hers, the one that says she knows exactly what he does. Carol and Jane, both dressed in the hotel uniform of white shirts and navy trousers, eye Kate up and down. She wears that minimalistic, classic bright-red dress: long-sleeved, fitted bodice, flared A-line skirt stopping above the knee, high neckline with the crisp white pointed collar that screams preppy schoolgirl vibe, thin black belt cinching the waist, straight sleeves ending clean at the wrists, no extra frills. Gray polka-dot heels, soft makeup, matte rosy lips, black mascara, loose hair with a gentle side part and subtle root volume. Sleek black shoulder bag dangles off her arm. Brian wears simple black suit trousers, black boots, and a crisp white shirt.
“Ummm… oh, I get it now.” Carol throws a playful, knowing glance between Brian and Kate. “Brian, huh? Nice.” Jane’s grin widens as she taps the keyboard with deliberate slowness. She glances up just long enough to catch the light flush of Kate’s embarrassment as Brian’s hand presses lightly against the small of her back, guiding her closer to the desk. “Checking in for tonight? Just tonight?” An unmistakable implication sits in her words, a barely restrained giggle behind them.
Kate leans an elbow on the counter, her expression poised between playful and coy. “Mmhmm. Just tonight. Unless… well, you never know.” She shifts her gaze to Brian, her smile turning softer, almost conspiratorial. Brian chuckles and rolls his shoulders like a boxer loosening up before a fight. His hand on Kate’s back moves slightly, fingertips grazing the fabric of her dress with just enough pressure to suggest something else. “Oh, I know,” he says, tone deep and amused. He turns his attention back to Jane, but his eyes flicker to Kate as he speaks. “But yeah, just tonight for now.” Jane lets out a soft, knowing laugh as she taps the keyboard. “Well, I’m sure you two will have a… memorable night.” Her smirk widens as she swipes a keycard across a reader, producing a crisp plastic noise. “Room 13. It’s the corner suite. Private balcony, full view of the canyon if you’re into that sort of thing.” She hands the card over to Brian, fingers brushing his deliberately.
Kate’s hand drifts down to Brian’s wrist as she accepts the card. “Thanks, Jane.” Her voice sounds light and playful, but an undercurrent of intent runs beneath it. As Kate and Brian disappear down the hallway toward the suite, Carol and Jane stare after them. The second the couple rounds the corner and vanishes, Carol turns to Jane. “Relax, bestie. Don’t be jealous of her. At least tomorrow you’ll still be able to walk on your own two legs, unlike that blonde.”
Meanwhile, back at the Cheryl Hill estate, Aria, Tara, and Cheryl sit settled in the living room on the big soft blue couch in front of the wall-sized TV. It streams live footage from one of the hidden cameras.
Cheryl wears her bright red dress with the plunging neckline that shows off her small tits. Aria rocks a tiny white miniskirt and a white crop top that leaves her midriff completely bare. Tara chills in loose black pants and an orange t-shirt.
The girls drag in a full spread of food and non-alcoholic drinks. The remote rests on the coffee table beside them, ready to flip between the hidden cams. The cameras hide perfectly all over suite 13, with crystal-clear picture and sound.
“Goddamn… I’m about to watch a live Blacked.com episode starring Aria’s man and her bestie,” Tara drawls. She tosses a handful of popcorn into her mouth and slowly slides her gaze from the screen to Aria. “And yeah, I wouldn’t even be shocked if Aria actually talks Kate into doing a real Blacked scene someday. All in the name of personal growth, pushing boundaries, and whatever other bullshit you fed her, Ari. Right, Ari? I’m talking about you, Ari. And did I already mention I feel bad for Alex?”
Aria gasps and clutches her chest in mock horror. “Oh my god, Tara! How dare you!” She flips her ponytail dramatically. “I’d never do anything that exploitative.” A wicked grin spreads across her face as she wiggles on the couch. “Okay, maybe I would. But not tonight. Tonight I’m just here for the historical documentation.” She points at the screen where Brian and Kate enter the suite.
Kate lets out a soft gasp as she surveys the lavish room with its floor-to-ceiling windows, breathtaking canyon view, huge red four-poster bed, and private balcony. Tara smirks while she stares at the wall-sized TV.
Kate wears a minimalistic classic dress: a bright red long-sleeved piece with a fitted bodice and a flared A-line skirt that ends above the knee. A high neckline with a crisp white pointed collar gives it a preppy, almost schoolgirl vibe. A slim black belt cinches the waist. The sleeves end cleanly at the wrists. On her feet sit elegant gray heels with a black polka-dot pattern. Her makeup stays soft with matte rosy lipstick and black mascara. Her hair falls down with a gentle side part, slight waves at the ends, and subtle root volume. A sleek black shoulder bag hangs off her arm. Brian wears simple black suit trousers, black boots, and a crisp white shirt.
Tara, Cheryl, and Aria watch closely through the hidden-camera feed as Kate and Brian stand in the suite. Aria keeps the remote ready to switch cameras when needed. Kate turns to Brian with an impressed smile. Her heels click softly against the wooden floor. “Wow, this is gorgeous,” she says and spins slowly to take in the high ceilings and warm glow of the lamps. The fading light outside paints the room in golds and pinks.
Brian watches her with his hands in his pockets. His expression stays unreadable except for a subtle tension at his jaw. He looks at the bed first, then back to her. “Glad you like it,” he murmurs. “Wanted it to be special.”
Kate nods and walks toward the floor-to-ceiling windows to admire the view. At that moment Tara mutters quietly, “Just imagining him fucking that princess in every hole. That’s a crime against humanity.” Then she notices Aria zooming in with the remote.
Tara takes a sip of her drink while she watches the screen. “Cheryl, don’t even tell me those cameras in their suite are recording too. You two are actually planning to rewatch this shit later? Fuck, that’s worse than your still lifes with coffins, Cherry.”
Cheryl doesn’t look away from the screen as she sips her cocktail. Her face lights up with devilish amusement. “Oh, Tara,” she drawls, “of course we’re recording. What kind of art connoisseur would I be if I didn’t capture every second of this masterpiece in progress?” She taps the rim of her glass thoughtfully. “I might even paint it later. Kate on her knees, King B’s hands in her hair, that perfect moment when she accepts him completely.”
Aria snorts while she adjusts the camera angles. “God, you’re disgusting. And yet, I love you for it.”
Tara rolls her eyes and says in a long, drawn-out voice, “I’ll probably have to rewatch tons of lesbian porn to forget this fucking mess.”
At that exact moment the picture on the wall-sized TV switches. Brian steps closer to Kate, who stands by the window admiring the view. Aria zooms in as Brian’s hand brushes a strand of hair behind Kate’s ear. His fingers linger just a second too long, tracing the curve of her face. Kate doesn’t pull away. She looks up at him, her expression warm and open. Brian’s thumb strokes her cheekbone.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.
Kate’s breath catches audibly. She doesn’t look away. On the screen, her hands rise to Brian’s chest, fingers splaying against the soft cotton of his crisp white shirt. She presses closer, her body arching slightly.
“I think about you all the time…” Brian confesses, his words rough with something deeper than just desire. “…since that party on September 2nd at your mansion.”
His other hand slides to the small of Kate’s back, pulling her flush against him. The camera angle shifts slightly as Aria fiddles with the remote, catching the way Brian’s hips tilt forward instinctively. The obvious huge bulge in his pants presses against Kate’s stomach, against the fabric of her bright red dress and flared A-line skirt.
She tilts her head back to meet his gaze. “Brian…” His name sounds like a question and an answer all at once.
Meanwhile, in Cheryl Hill’s living room, Tara groans. She sits on the big soft blue couch in front of the wall-sized TV that’s currently streaming the scene between Kate and Brian, and buries her face in her hands.
“Goddammit, Cher, why do I let you talk me into this shit?” she says to Cheryl, who sits nearby with Aria. Cheryl simply hums in response, her cocktail glass nearly empty as she watches intently.
In the minds of Kate and Brian flash all their conversations at the parties in Château des Rêves, starting with that very party on September 2 of last year, 2023, when Aria introduced them to each other.
In Kate’s mind there also flashes the scene from January 26 of this year, 2024, when after the party Aria proposed to her this amusing “experiment,” while Kate and Aria, as tradition demanded, chatted one-on-one over a bottle of Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru in Château des Rêves’s little lounge.
Scenes with Alex from the last few days race through Kate’s mind too: from the conversation in Alex’s old office on the evening of February 3 to the words she said to Alex tonight right before Brian came to pick her up. “But let’s get one thing straight… Brian may have a big dick, but you’re still the one who gets my heart.” And “Don’t worry, I’ll be in safe hands… And they’ll be in me too. And not just hands…”
Before Kate’s eyes flashes Alex’s aroused face at that exact moment.
Kate looks at Brian. Her eyes meet his, her gaze steady and unflinching. Her mind swirls with memories and emotions—the parties at the mansion, the whispered conversations, the way Brian looked at her from across the room, and their passionate kiss in Brian’s car an hour ago in the Château des Rêves parking lot.
She moves closer, her body pressing against his. “You know,” she says, her words a sultry whisper, “I’ve thought about this since that first party. Since the moment Aria introduced us.”
Brian’s breath catches. His hand slides down to the curve of her hip. “I did too,” he admits, his voice husky.
At that exact moment Tara bursts out laughing, as if trying to yell straight through the wall-sized TV screen at Kate:
“Fuck, you weren’t even thinking about him like that back then! What the fuck are you lying about?! God, that’s so fucking stupid! Total bullshit just for the sake of a romantic moment!”
Of course, Brian and Kate can’t hear her. Tara, Aria, and Cheryl sit in the living room at the Cheryl Hill estate, watching Kate and Brian through the hidden cameras in their suite at the Topanga Canyon Inn. Brian’s palm spreads wide over the small of Kate’s back, fingers digging just enough into the red fabric to bunch it a little. The dress looks closed and beautiful, almost too proper for what’s about to happen, and that contrast does fucked-up things to his head.
“Since September, huh?” He repeats, voice low and teasing, but there’s an edge under it—like he’s testing if she really means it.
Kate’s lips curve into a smile that turns wicked. “Okay, maybe not the first five seconds. But definitely by the time you did that stupid little spin move on the ‘dance floor’ by our party room trying to impress me.” She rises on her toes, lips brushing the corner of his mouth. “You failed, by the way. Looked like a drunk Elvis.”
Brian laughs, a short, rough bark, and yanks her the last inch so her whole body slams softly against his. The bulge in his trousers is obscene now, fifteen hard inches trapped sideways, grinding slowly against the belt cinching her waist. “Keep talking shit, blondie. See where it gets you.”
Kate’s breath hitches. She feels every thick inch of him like a promise. Her palms slide up his chest, nails scraping over the crisp white shirt until she grips his traps.
“I’m counting on it getting me somewhere very, very deep.”
Kate feels Brian’s fifteen-inch pipe press into her midsection like a goddamn subway pole and lights up with the biggest, sunniest grin. Her eyes sparkle.
“Holy crap, Brian, is that a dick or did you strap a Pringles can to your thigh for good luck?” She says it loud, with zero shame and pure delighted mischief.
Brian tries to look serious, but his mouth twitches. “You gonna keep narrating, or are you gonna do something about it?”
Kate taps her chin, pretending to think. “Hmm. Decisions, decisions. Do I treat it like a new golf club and take a few practice swings, or do I just go full Happy Gilmore and drive it straight into the hole?”
She drops her bag on the floor, kicks off the polka-dot heels, and hops backward onto the four-poster bed in one bouncy move. Her red skirt flares like a cheerleader flip. She lands on her ass, legs swinging, collar still perfectly crisp.
“Come on, King B. Let’s see if that thing has better distance than my driver. Spoiler: my driver’s a Taylormade Stealth, and it’s jealous already.”
Meanwhile, in Cheryl Hill’s living room, Aria screams into a blue couch pillow.
“She’s doing golf foreplay! I’m dead. I’m literally deceased!”
Tara has popcorn everywhere from laughing. “She just compared his dick to a fucking Stealth 2. I can’t breathe.”
Cheryl giggles, her voice posh and proud. “That’s my Wheat Valkyrie. Turning a BBC into a country-club joke. Iconic.”
Back in suite 13 of Topanga Canyon Inn, Brian rips his crisp white shirt open—buttons fly like confetti—and stalks to the huge red four-poster bed. Kate scoots back, propping herself on her elbows. The flared A-line skirt of her bright red dress rides up to show the tiniest white thong known to man.
“Rules,” she chirps, holding up one finger. “If you rip the collar, you owe me brunch at the Riviera Country Club, and you have to wear pastel shorts. Non-negotiable.”
Brian grabs her ankles and yanks her to the edge of the bed in one pull. “Deal. Now shut up and spread, Norwin. Fore!”
Kate bursts out laughing, legs falling open like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “God, I love bad golf puns during sex. Don’t stop.”
He drops to his knees, big hands pushing the bright red flared A-line skirt up to her waist. He leans in close.
Kate’s head falls back, but she still giggles through the first moan. “Oh my god, that’s—that’s definitely in the hole—“
The hidden cameras catch every second. The white pointed collar that screams preppy schoolgirl vibe stays perfect. The flared A-line skirt bunches like a flag. Kate’s sunshine laugh turns into breathless, happy curses while Brian eats her out like he’s trying to win the Masters.
Kate’s laugh fractures into a bright, breathless sound as Brian finds exactly the right spot on the first try. Her hips jerk, but she keeps the playful tone even while her thighs start trembling.
“Ten out of ten for club selection,” she gasps, fingers threading into his short hair. “But the follow-through—oh fuck—could use more wrist.”
Brian continues with focused attention. The sensation makes her toes curl. Kate’s back arches.
“Note to self,” she pants, voice still sunny, “King B has a better touch than my putting coach.”
Brian continues with the same deliberate calm. Kate’s sunny voice cracks into a delighted squeak.
“Okay, new note: he’s upgrading me from graphite shaft to steel. Very… premium upgrade.”
She’s still grinning, but her hips roll on pure instinct now, chasing the pressure. Brian curls his fingers again, thumb circling her clit in tight, perfect loops. Kate’s head drops back, blonde hair spilling over the bed like liquid gold.
“Brian… seriously… If you keep that rhythm, I’m going to—“
She doesn’t finish the sentence. The orgasm rolls through her like a perfect drive down the middle of the fairway: clean, powerful, and accompanied by the happiest, most unselfconscious laugh she has ever let out in bed.
Her thighs clamp around his head, trembling, and she rides his face through every aftershock, still giggling breathlessly.
When she finally unclenches, her legs buckle and she falls sideways onto the bed, chest heaving, eyes shining. She props her head on one hand, blonde hair a wild halo, white pointed collar still arrow-straight.
“Eagle,” she announces to the ceiling, flashing a peace sign. “No, wait, albatross. Definitely albatross.”
Brian rises slowly, lips glossy, looking way too smug. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins down at her.
“Albatross? Damn, girl. I was aiming for a hole-in-one.”
Kate bursts out laughing again, the sound bright and unguarded. She rolls onto her back, her red flared A-line skirt still bunched at her waist, white thong dangling off one ankle like a surrender flag.
“Well, you’re definitely on the green in regulation,” she says, reaching up to tug his belt. “But if you want the trophy, you’re gonna have to sink the putt.”
Brian’s belt buckle clinks open. He shoves his black suit trousers and white boxer-briefs down in one motion. His length springs free, slapping heavy against his abs.
Kate’s eyes go comically wide, then narrow in pure delight.
“Oh my god. It’s like someone glued a pool noodle to a Red Bull can.” She sits up, crawls forward on all fours, and pokes the head with one finger. “Does it come with a warning label? ‘Caution: may cause loss of structural integrity’?”
Brian exhales a laugh, hands threading into her hair. “You gonna keep inspecting the merchandise or—“
Kate cuts him off by wrapping both hands around him and giving one long, appraising lick from base to tip.
“Quality control,” she declares cheerfully, then opens wide and takes the head into her mouth like it’s the most fun challenge she’s had all week.
No theatrics, no fake gagging, just warm, eager suction and her big blue eyes locked on his.
Meanwhile, in Cheryl Hill’s living room:
“Fuck… Holy shit,” Tara mutters. “If I wasn’t seeing this with my own eyes right now, I’d never have believed it.”
Aria nearly chokes on her strawberry mojito. “I know! Did you see the way she grabbed it right away?” She adjusts the volume on the wall-sized TV. The audio crackles with Kate’s wet sounds and Brian’s low groans. “Like a damn archaeologist discovering a lost artifact.”
Cheryl moves to a better angle, paintbrush dangling from her fingers. “Mmm, and look at that—she’s already figured out exactly how to angle her head for deep throat. Like she was born for it.” She winks at Aria. “You have a new competitor, Ari.”
Tara snorts, shifting on the big soft blue couch.
“Bullshit. I’ll always be number one in that.” Aria grins, but something tight sits in her shoulders as she watches. On screen, Brian’s hands tighten in Kate’s blonde hair. She reacts, and his hips jerk forward.
“You good?” Cheryl asks quietly, watching Aria rather than the screen.
Aria waves a hand dismissively. “Tch. Of course. It’s fucking hot.” She gulps more of her drink, eyes fixed on Kate’s throat working around his cock. “She’s so… eager.”
Tara snorts again. “Well, there you go, Ari. You got exactly what you wanted. Happy now? And what the hell are you planning to do next?” She shoots a sideways glance at Aria.
Aria takes another long sip, ice cubes clinking. She doesn’t answer right away, just watches as Brian lifts Kate by her hips and positions her over his lap on the huge red four-poster bed. The camera angle gives a perfect view of her bare pussy as she sinks down onto him.
“Hm?” she finally hums, feigning nonchalance. “Of course I’m happy.” Her fingers tighten around the glass. “I told you this would happen. Brian’s gonna make her feel like a fucking queen.” She watches Kate bounce on his lap, red A-line skirt shifting with each movement. “And I can already tell she’s loving it.”
Aria sets her drink down with deliberate care, then turns to face Tara and Cheryl fully. “Kate deserves this. Alex treats her like she’s made of porcelain. Like she’s some fragile thing that’ll break if he—“ She stops, eyes on the screen where Kate’s golden hair sways as she moves with him. “But look at her now. She’s wild. She’s powerful. She’s taking what she wants.” She crosses her legs. “That’s what she needed.”
Cheryl raises an eyebrow. “Mmm, and you needed this too, didn’t you? Proving Alex isn’t enough for her. Proving you were right.”
Tara raises her hand in a sharp stop gesture. “Hold up… When I asked if you two wanted Kate to dump Alex, you, Ari, said, ‘No, no, of course not. Kate’s still crazy about Alex. She’s just exploring. And honestly? I think Alex knows it too.’ So which one of you is lying, and what the fuck does Aria actually want?”
Tara looks straight at Cheryl. “Will somebody finally explain what the hell is going on? And why did you even set up this whole fucking mess?”
Cheryl’s expression softens. She turns her gaze to Aria. The silence stretches for about three minutes.
Aria inhales slowly and rolls her shoulders back. She reaches for her drink again, fingers tapping against the glass as she watches the TV screen. Brian has already cum in Kate’s pussy while she lies on her back. Now Kate is on all fours, Brian behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he thrusts deep. She moans loudly, her back arching beautifully.
“Tara, baby, I never lied,” Aria murmurs, though her fingers tighten around the glass. “I just… didn’t tell the whole truth.” She finally meets Tara’s gaze, her big brown eyes steady despite the way her chest rises and falls faster. “I knew Kate wanted this. She’s been curious for a while.”
Tara stays silent for a minute, fixing her hair and staring into empty space, then speaks while looking straight at Aria and Cheryl.
“Alright, girls, let’s talk straight. No bullshit, no lies. I’m far from a fucking saint myself. But I have my goddamn limits, and right now they’ve been crossed hard. Instead of a nice dinner with my Cherry, I got a hidden-camera sex show starring the lady of Château des Rêves.”
Tara lets out a heavy sigh and continues.
“Ari, you’re in an open relationship with Brian. I’m in an open relationship with my Cherry. But Alex and Kate… they’re different. They’re like a fucking 1950s magazine ad for perfect couple goals. You might not like it, but that’s their life. Right now you could destroy their happiness with your little tricks. And not just theirs, but everyone who lives in that French-named mansion-commune of theirs!”
Tara raises her hand, cutting off any interruption.
“Can someone tell me why the absolute fuck I just had to witness this? Ari, I don’t know what’s really going on. Either you’re in love with Kate and not as straight as you think, or it’s about their real estate, or plain stupid jealousy.” Tara lifts her hand higher. “Yes, jealousy, Ari. Let’s be real: your career as a photographer and artist is stalled. So…” She shrugs. “I’m literally speechless.”
Aria exhales sharply, her fingers tightening around the glass. She turns away slightly and looks at the screen where Brian keeps fucking Kate, his muscular arms wrapped around her waist as he thrusts into her from behind. Kate’s moans echo through the speakers, her body arching under his control.
“I never said I wanted to destroy them,” Aria says quietly. “I just… I wanted her to know what she was missing.”
She sips her drink.
“And maybe a part of me wanted to prove something to Alex. That he wasn’t enough for her. That she needed more than just him.” Aria turns back to Tara, her expression unreadable.
Tara twirls a strand of her pink hair around her finger. “Fuck. This is absolute insanity. Alright, Ari: that’s it. We’re done. You hear me? Don’t drag me or Cheryl into this shit any further!”
Tara stares at the wall-sized TV where Brian has just finished in Kate’s ass and is already pounding her pussy again, having put her on her back.
“Jesus fuck, does he have a cum factory in his balls or what?” Tara mutters, scowling at the scene. “Does Kate at least take good birth control? They’re fucking raw. The last thing Alex needs is Kate popping out mixed kids while they’re not even married.”
Aria sips her drink slowly, her eyes flickering back to the screen. Her fingers trace the rim of the glass as Brian pushes Kate’s legs back, opening her completely. His cock slides in easily, the sound of skin on skin clear through the speakers.
“I’m sure she’s on something,” Aria mutters. “She’s not stupid.” She looks back at Tara. “And no, I’m not dragging you into this. I just needed someone to talk to. You and Cheryl are the only ones who won’t look at me like I’m the worst person in the world.”
Tara exhales sharply and shakes her head. “Yeah, I already know about your little one-on-one chat with Cheryl today at 5:00 PM. I just don’t know the details.”
“Holy fuck, just look at this shit,” she adds, eyes glued to the screen.
On the screen, Brian rips off the rest of his clothes and helps Kate do the same. The moment they’re both naked, the sex turns intense. He continues with hard, deep movements, completely losing himself in the moment. The huge red four-poster bed shakes under the force. Brian shoves Kate’s crumpled white thong into her mouth. She bites down on it as he continues.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Thank fuck I’m into pussies,” Tara mutters. She pours herself a full glass of soda and knocks it back in one go.
“Fuck, if anyone ever tells me my parents went at it like that, I’m decking them,” Cheryl throws in.
“Shit, I need something a hell of a lot stronger than this,” Tara adds.
“Coming right up, Tara,” Cheryl says tenderly. She jumps up and heads to the minibar. Her bright red dress with the plunging neckline looks vivid under the lights.
Brian flips Kate onto her stomach and continues with no warning, his hands gripping her hips hard. The cameras capture every movement as he loses himself completely.
“Fuck, he’s really into it,” Tara mutters, shaking her head. “I never thought Kate could be like that. This is beyond.”
Cheryl hands Tara a shot of dark amber liquid and squeezes her shoulder before sitting beside Aria.
“She won’t regret it,” Aria says quietly, accepting the drink Cheryl pours for her. “I know Alex worships her. Brian does too, but in his own way. And Brian can fuck her into the mattress every single day if she wants.” She stares at the screen where Brian now has Kate bent over the side of the bed, fucking her ass with punishing thrusts while he reaches around to rub her clit. Kate’s face contorts in a silent scream, sweat slicking her skin. Her fingers clutch the sheets.
Aria sips her drink and keeps her gaze fixed on the screen. “This is what she wanted,” she murmurs. “I know her. I’ve known her for years. Alex… he’s perfect. Romantic. Sweet. But sometimes a girl just needs to get railed until she forgets her own name.”
Tara makes a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “Christ. You sound like you’re selling used cars or some shit.”
Cheryl watches with wide eyes as Brian flips Kate onto her back again and lifts her legs over his shoulders. Tara rolls her eyes.
“Anyway, it’s crystal clear now. They’re gonna fuck, then shower, then fuck again, then shower again, maybe grab some food, then fuck some more…”
Tara lets out a dry chuckle.
“Fine, as I get this shit, so Brian’s moving into Château des Rêves and… then what? Kate’s gonna make a weekly fuck schedule: how many days she rides each of her two boyfriends? And will Kate start sharing your own boyfriend with you, Aria? And anyway… questions, questions, questions…”
Aria’s eyes flick up from the screen to meet Tara’s. Her face stays unreadable for a long moment. Then she exhales through her nose and tilts her head slightly.
“You know I’m not stupid,” she says finally, setting her glass down with deliberate calm. “I don’t expect Kate to just forget Alex overnight. And I’m not trying to force her into anything.” Her fingers tap once against the polished wood of the coffee table. “But if she’s already fucking Brian, then I think she already knows what she wants. And I think she’s gonna want more of it.”
Cheryl leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Aria pauses, searching for the right words. “Alex is special. She loves him. I love him too, in my own way. But…” She gestures at the screen where Brian pins Kate beneath him, her legs spread wide, his hips driving into her relentlessly. “That’s what she needs sometimes. Not just sweet romance. Something… different.”
Tara scoffs and crosses her arms. “Different. Right. Like you don’t get off on watching your boyfriend fuck your best friend.” She doesn’t sound angry so much as resigned.
Aria doesn’t deny it. She glances back at the screen, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth as Kate’s fingers tighten around Brian’s biceps, her nails digging into his skin.
“Of course I get off on it,” she admits, her voice soft but unapologetic. “And I think Kate does too.” Her gaze flicks to Tara before settling back on the screen. “She likes the attention. The control. The way Brian just… takes what he wants.”
Cheryl hums thoughtfully and shifts in her seat. “So she’s gonna keep both of them, huh? Alex and Brian.”
Aria nods, eyes still locked on the screen. “Yeah.”
Tara pauses, lost in thought, then says, “The thing is… will it really go down like that? Cheryl already told me about this whole Erodreamarts thing. Your Cocoavilla, Ari, our Cheryl Hill, Château des Rêves, and all the other estates and mansions in the district… they’re all part of this marathon to attract… whatever the hell it’s supposed to attract.”
Tara sighs. “I mean… we know Dana’s definitely gonna stash Alex somewhere, probably ship him way the fuck out of the mansion for the entire event. Though we don’t know exactly where…”
Cheryl and Aria nod silently.
Tara keeps going. “Doesn’t that basically mean… Alex is gone, and Kate gets Brian 24/7 the whole time…”
Cheryl and Aria realize what Tara implies: once Alex is out of the picture, Brian will completely take over Kate. Aria sips her drink slowly, eyes fixed on the screen where Brian lifts Kate’s hips higher and pounds into her with relentless force. Her fingers trace idle patterns on the arm of the couch.
“You’re right,” she says finally, setting her glass down with deliberate care. “It’s… convenient, isn’t it?”
Cheryl exhales a quiet laugh. “Convenient? Or perfect?” Her tone stays light, but something darker lingers beneath it.
Tara scoffs again. “You just confirmed with your ‘yeah’ that ‘she’s going to keep both of them,’ right?” she says. “And the whole time we were talking, every time I asked, you almost kept swearing you didn’t want anything bad for Alex. And now you’re totally fine with Brian stealing Kate from him?”
Tara slaps her palm against her thigh, the sound muffled by her loose black pants. “You’re flipping your story mid-sentence, Ari. Do you have bipolar disorder, or are you just a pathological liar?”
Aria doesn’t flinch. She sips slowly from her glass, swirls the liquid, and sets it down with deliberate care. “I don’t see why I need to pick one over the other,” she says, tilting her head slightly. “Alex deserves to be happy. And Kate deserves to be happy. And right now? Brian makes her happy.” She gestures vaguely toward the screen where Kate moans, her back arching as Brian thrusts into her. “Look at her. Really look at her. Is that the face of someone who’s being stolen from someone else?”
Cheryl exhales a quiet laugh and shakes her head. “Damn, girl. You really don’t hold back, do you?”
Tara rolls her eyes, sighs heavily, and laughs. “Fuck, go get fucked in the ass, Ari! Anyway, I need way more alcohol for this kind of ‘dinner with my Cherry.’”