Chapter 421

We didn’t end up cycling the conversation back around to Wanda as we polished off the last bites of dinner, though I had a feeling that was more by conscious decision of both Becca and I after seeing Wanda hesitate earlier. Instead, we were just together, flirting lightly but talking more in a friendly hangout way than diving into deep or emotional conversations. The three of us already had a rapport, we already got along in pairs and as a trio, but finding our rhythms, our little idiosyncrasies and the things that made us tick in a conversation, would take more time.

Time I was very happy to spend with both of them.

The interruption of one of the bartenders coming over with an oversized double shot piled with whipped cream, an Oreo, and a maraschino cherry to set in front of me was our last delay - apparently the girls had conspired to tell the bartenders that it was my birthday and I’d flown in to celebrate. Thankfully we were at a bar, not a restaurant, or I would have been getting the whole clapping-waitresses singing some birthday song routine. As it was, we still got stared at and there was laughter at the ridiculous drink, but I took it in stride as the girls snickered and grinned. I twisted the Oreo apart and got some whipped cream on either half before offering it to them, and while they munched the cookie for dessert, I downed the cherry and then the shot.

“How is it?” Becca laughed softly at my reaction.

“Citrusy and creamy,” I said, wincing at the amount of sugar I’d probably just ingested. “It tasted like the syrup they would make popsicles out of.”

“That’s because it was a Creamsicle shot,” Wanda snorted, giggling into her hand.

“Then what was with the Oreo?” I asked.

“I asked them to make it over the top,” Becca smirked playfully.

They absolutely refused to let me pay, even though I’d had the most expensive meal and two drinks to their one each. They wouldn’t even let me chip in, and conspired so far as to have Wanda sit on my lap while Becca went to pay the bill.

“You flew here for me,” Wanda said sternly, one hand warm on my neck as she looked into my eyes. “That’s a lot more than one meal, Tiger.” I tried to reply, but she held up a finger from her other hand to my lips, her serious expression breaking into a little half-smile at the silliness of the move. “No arguing. Or I’ll break out the big guns.”

“The big guns?” I asked, my lips still pressed to her finger.

She wiggled her hips, which in turn wiggled her perfect, firm ass in my lap. Then she flexed her glutes. Wanda knew exactly what she was doing to me with those moves, and her grin grew a little more as she felt my entirely natural reaction to that sort of inspirational teasing.

“OK, I take your point,” I chuckled, then turned my head sideways and kissed her finger.

Her grin turned wicked as she shifted a little more on my lap so she could wrap her arms around my neck in a hug, pressing her chest to mine and her lips to my ear. “I don’t think it’ll be tonight, but I’ll be taking your point sometime this weekend. God, I’ve been dreaming of you, Tiger.”

I groaned, hugging her back tightly and resisting the urge to say something dirty back or give her earlobe a little suck. First, because we were in public and I had no doubt that making that move would turn our already borderline inappropriate PDA into a full-on make-out. Second, because Becca was coming back with a satisfied smile. She strode right up beside me and ran her fingers through my hair, looking down at me warmly.

“Time to go,” she said.

“I was just getting comfortable,” Wanda faux complained, pulling back from me but keeping her hands on my shoulders.

We made our exit from the bar, and that was when I finally noticed someone eyeing us. Or two someones - a pair, either a couple or two people out on a date. The guy was looking at me in consternation as both Becca and Wanda grabbed my hands as we got up from the table. The girl, who was cute, was eyeing me up with a considering look and started blushing when she realised I caught her.

Was there really a need for that Normalise perk from the App?

I sat in the back seat again while Becca drove, which gave me time to cool off a little from the intimate moment with Wanda - maybe it had been the drain from the flight, or a more emotional reaction to seeing them both when we first said hello, but that little tease at the restaurant had stirred me up way more than it should have.

Becca’s condo was in a neat little U-shaped building that was a more recent build, which meant that it had the ‘open to use’ amenities that folks were trying to include to make their places more hip and modern. A public lounge, a few smaller gathering places for hosting dinner parties including a set of professional-grade ovens and a big dining table that could have fit sixteen people around it easily, a small gym, and a rooftop patio with brightly coloured sun umbrellas and chairs.

And all of it, she pointed out, both raised the rent and also had to be locked up because if it wasn’t, then the ‘unhoused population’ would quickly start using it. And if that happened, then the rent would go down again, along with the property value.

“NIMBY,” I sighed.

“Mhmm,” Becca nodded as we headed for her actual condo after the super quick peek-in tour of the building.

“NIM-what?” Wanda asked.

“Not In My Backyard,” Becca said. “It goes along with gentrification. People want to be all supportive of causes like homelessness, addiction or mental health, but then they fight against putting homeless shelters, rehabs or mental health group homes in their neighbourhoods because-”

“Just not in my backyard,” Wanda said, understanding.

“Property value is a big reason for it,” I said as we reached Becca’s door and she started unlocking it. “There’s an argument to be made for safety too, obviously, but that would require better investment in services. And usually it boils down to property value.”

“Way to bring down the mood,” Wanda smirked at me.

“Sorry,” I chuckled.

“Maybe once we’re all in Vegas, we should do a campaign to get Robbie elected to City Council or something,” Becca grinned, pushing open her front door. “Think about it - eight hot chicks running his campaign, going door to door talking about his platform? How could people not come out to vote?”

“OK, first off, I don’t have the time for that,” I chuckled. “And second-”

I never did get back to the second reason that didn’t sound like a good idea to me, because everything else went out the window of my mind. Becca’s condo was immaculate, for one thing, which made me a little worried about her needing to live with eight other people - if this level of tidiness was her preferred way to live, how did we get everyone to come up to that level instead of getting her to come down? More distracting, however, was the absolute beast of cuteness that was Ralph the Golden Retriever.

Wanda looked good in photos. She knew how to pose, make the most of her assets, dress to impress, and work with lighting and filters without going full AI-face filter and losing her individuality. I would argue that in-person she looked even better, because it was the real her, but I knew plenty of people wouldn’t have that same view when meeting a model they’d only ever seen curated pictures of, whereas I had a model for a fiancee who I saw all the time outside of that context. Real prettiness, the kind that made me think ‘wow,’ was way better than a curated, carefully considered and touched up photo that could make my dick twitch slightly.