Bloodline [h.s.]

forty-nine.

this is a double update. make sure to read forty-eight first!

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content warning: violence and brief sexual assault

BRIDGET GALLAGHER

At every event I'd attended, much to the event planner and host's dismay, the after-parties were all the same. The private corners promised drugs. The dance floor promised opportunities of infidelity. The dresses were shorter, the drinks were stronger, inhibitions were lower. And laws didn't apply.

The lounge was similar to a prohibition era speakeasy. Smoke dimmed the room. The scent of cigars and the roar of music through the speakers were thick in my chest. Abigail and I had changed out of our evening gowns in one of the hotel suites before meeting Nick and Aiden.

"You changed your dress." Aiden came up behind me with his forearm across my torso.

"You're trying to give me a heart attack tonight," I exhaled, coming down from that startled jump.

"Among other things..." he teased. His lips pressed to my temple and glided down to my shoulder.

"Baby, there are people everywhere and Abigail is right th—"

"No one cares. She is with Nick." He said in a playful whine before taking the skin on my neck passed his teeth, sucking it harshly.

"Jacob," I gasped, relieved that I remembered to not call him Aiden, "what if my brother sees you?"

"Your brother is across the bar shitfaced with his friends. I only have a minute or two. Forget everything else, just for a moment." He turned me around, running his hands down my silhouette.

As he sucked in a sharp breath, he grasped my hips in a tight squeezed as if he was soaking in the change in wardrobe. The colour was the same. Except this ended high on my thigh, a little shorter than my typical length. And the stylists insist the second dress was not strapless for image purposes. "Fuck, Bee, I thought the last dress would kill me."

He moved us into the middle of the guests, surrounded by people but hidden in the midst of them. His fingers played with the bottom of my dress, inching their way up to expose more of my thigh. He was right. No one was paying attention, but that didn't stop the adrenaline from creeping up my legs to my spine.

"I think you like when I embarrass you." He observed, taking a fist full of my dress up the side of my thigh. He got closer to my underwear, watching for my reaction. His leg was positioned between mine. "Want to feel good?"

My cheeks were on fire. I was very aware of our surroundings but the need in my lower half didn't allow me to care. Eyes squeezed shut, I nodded eagerly. The melody in background of my mind numbing frustration melted into the beginning piano of another Elvis song. Only, I had nothing to do with it.

"Another one?" He chuckled. I snapped out of my trance, feeling uneasy. My heart stopped when I realised neither of us had done this.

"No, this wasn't me—"

"This one was dedicated to Blondie." The DJ said into the mic. My veins froze.