Chapter 30

Author’s Note: We’re nearing the end of what I’ll call “Book One” of Traffic Girl. Thank you so much for reading, voting, and commenting. There will be at least two more books to come. Let’s enjoy the ride!

The month after Vegas leading up to Kat’s wedding was a whirlwind. She was wrapped up in planning and events, and I threw myself into work rather than face any of the feelings that had grown in me during Vegas. It was easier to compartmentalize rather than ask myself -- or Kat -- why she was getting married. It was easier to compartmentalize than ask myself why I didn’t want to think about these things. It was easier to be an emotionally stunted hedonist. At least, it was a hell of a lot more fun, anyway. Or so I thought at the time.

I had wanted to set up a wedding day tryst with Kat. She hesitated. So I enlisted Rita Johnson, one of her bridesmaids and fellow local TV anchor, to help. Rita asked Kat for thirty minutes alone the afternoon of the wedding so she could give her a present to commemorate their friendship and her best friend’s nuptials. She made a convincing case that no one would object to the bride taking thirty minutes for herself to clear her head on her wedding day.

It was a typically hot June day in Houston, and I drove toward the Hotel Zaza in the Museum District. The risk we were about to take had my stomach in knots, an occurrence that was no easy task to achieve for someone as cynical as I was. It was 1:30 p.m. when I pulled up and parked across the street, not wanting to leave my car with the valet and risk being spotted.

The Zaza housed the wedding party and out-of-town guests. The ceremony would be at a church nearby, with the reception at a museum close to the hotel. Rita texted me that it was safe to come up. We had until two o’clock. We wouldn’t need it.

I found the “For Your Eyes Only” suite, and chuckled at the name. Rita had told Kat she wanted to do a couple lines together and allow her to have some breathing room before walking down the aisle. She would need it, Rita assured her, and would thank her later. When I knocked on the door, it took Kat by surprise. Rita opened it, wearing a short satin robe with “Bridesmaid” emblazoned on the back. Kat, with her back to me as I walked in, had a matching robe with “Bride” on it.

“I got you a present,” Rita announced.

Kat turned around and her face lit up with shock.

“John!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Girl,” Rita said, “we worked this out because we knew you needed it.”

Kat raced to me and melted into my arms.

“I do need you today,” she said.

“I know,” I said.

Rita turned her attention to a small coke setup she had brought with her. “You two do your thing,” she said. “But you better get going because the makeup artist gets here in 25 minutes.”

“Fuck me,” Kat said, hiking up her robe bending over the high-backed chair in the sitting area of the suite. Her pink asshole peaked through her slightly spread cheeks. Her pussy lips, freshly waxed, glistened invitingly. I had dreamed of this moment.

I entered Kat smoothly. We took a moment to savor the feeling.

“The last time I’ll ever fuck you when you’re not a married woman,” I said.

“You like married women better anyway,” she said.