“You f**king bitch,” Moira snarls as she takes a step toward Cara but I pull her back toward me.

I hear another voice from behind me add on, “What in the hell has gotten in to you, Cara?”

Angling my head, I see Randall standing there with anger blazing in his eyes. He steps around me and takes Cara by the upper arm, leaning in closer to her. “It is unacceptable to speak to Zach that way. He’s family.”

Cara pulls her arm away from Randall, her own eyes fevered with indignation. “He’s not our family. You’re blind to him.”

“I see as well as I ever do,” Randall murmurs with disappointment. “I’m seeing very well right now. I think you need to leave, Cara.”

“What?” she asks in disbelief. “You’re kicking me out of your home?”

“I’m asking you to leave before you make a scene and before I’m forced to kick you out. Go home and sleep off your drunk, and then maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to offer Zach and Moira an apology.”

“Never,” she hisses but spins on her heel, almost toppling over and heading toward the doorway. I notice Clint angling in toward her. He takes ahold of her arm as if to steady her, but she throws it off. He follows right behind her, and I sincerely hope that I never have to see those two again.

“I’m so sorry, Zach,” Randall says to me in apology. “She’s had too much to drink, and I’m sure she didn’t mean those words.”

Moira rests a hand on my arm, but I can feel her shaking. Oily unease settles within my chest, almost suffocating me. “You don’t need to apologize for her, Randall. Besides… her words were pretty much true.”

“That’s preposterous,” Randall gasps. “Her words were nothing more than meaningless drivel coming from a drunken and self-absorbed woman.”

“Still,” I tell him kindly as I reach a hand up to clasp his shoulder. “It’s not your place to apologize for her behavior. Now, if you don’t mind… I think Moira and I are going to leave for the night.”

Moira slips her hand into mine and laces her fingers with a slight squeeze. “Thank you for hosting this party for Zach. It was very nice.”

I know that was the kindest thing Moira could think to say to Randall at this moment, and I watch as sadness overtakes his face. “It was a pretty stupid idea having this, huh? What was I thinking? These people aren’t your friends. Hell, ninety percent of them aren’t my friends either.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him. “It was the gesture that counted.”

“I’m sorry,” Randall says, his eyes soft and wistful. “I just wanted to show you off. I’m just… really proud of you, Zach. I have no one else in my family that gives me such pride. That’s all.”

Some of the darkness that had been threatening to overtake me over Cara’s words… which were no doubt about as truthful as any I’ve heard since I’ve been here, starts to recede. Warm fondness for this man, who has indeed given me an amazing opportunity, which led me to Moira, starts to fill up that black hole. Yes, I will miss him too, when I’m gone.

A lot.

Moira sits straddling me in the limousine on the way home. She had just pushed a button that rolled up a dark piece of glass that separated the driver from us. Then she pulled up her gown, threw a bare leg over my own, and settled down into my lap.

I don’t hesitate a moment, reaching up and pulling the top of her dress down to expose both of her creamy, pale br**sts. She wraps her arms around my head and pulls my face to her. My tongue flicks at a nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak before pulling it into my mouth and sucking on it.

My hands slide up her thighs, pushing the satiny material of her dress further up until I glance down and see a hint of white silk covering her pu**y. I dip a finger under the edge and skim my finger through the slick folds, causing Moira’s back to arch backward in pleasure.

“That feels good,” she moans softly.

A little too softly for my needs, so I plunge a finger in deep and she cries out.

“How does that feel?” I ask her as I lean back a bit and watch as my finger pumps in and out of her.

“Oh, f**k… so good,” she says, and I add another finger, then another.

Not good enough… I want to hear more, so I lean my body to the side and lay flat against the leather seat, keeping Moira in place with my free hand.

“Crawl up here,” I tell her as I remove my fingers. “I want to f**k you with my tongue.”

Moira scrambles up my chest, pulling clumsily at the material of her dress to keep it out of the way. She takes a brief look out the window and says, “We’re about five minutes from the house.”

“More than enough time,” I assure her and grab onto her hips, dragging her the rest of the way up my body. I bend my legs, scooting my body down further in the seat so I can give her enough room to spread legs wide on either side of me.

When she’s perfectly positioned over my face, I order her, “Now lower that pu**y onto my mouth, sweet girl. I’m starving.”

Bracing her hands on the door, she slowly lowers herself. I stick my tongue out to make first contact, eagerly probing at her entrance, and she continues to sink down until I’ve impaled her with it.

“Oooohhhh,” Moira gushes as she swivels her h*ps above me.

I push my arms up between her thighs and, with my hands, I peel back the swollen lips of her pu**y, giving me unfettered access to what I’m really searching for. I need that cl*t between my lips if I’m going to get her off fast.