Betty pulled back slowly, a satisfied grin spreading across her face as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. Jemmy leaned in, stealing a kiss from her, tasting him on her lips before she, too, pulled away with a grin.
"That was... something," Jada finally said, breaking the silence. Her tone was dry, her gaze flicking between the three girls still kneeling between Dick's legs and Dick himself. He noticed the gleam in her eyes, then the phone she held tightly. She'd done something but he wasn't worried. Not about Jada.
As Jemmy slipped back onto his lap, forcing Hannah to shift to his left, Betty slid onto his right, still wiping the corner of her mouth with a smug grin. They were too comfortable, too eager to bask in his attention now that they'd had a taste of him. None of them noticed the group of guys entering the bar—eyes locked onto Dick like he'd just stolen something from them. And in a way, he had.
Dick caught sight of them in the mirror behind the bar. Three of them, all built like typical jocks, stomping toward him with clenched fists and fury in their eyes. They were Hannah, Jemmy, and Betty's boyfriends—or exes now, judging by the way the girls were clinging to him now. Each of them radiated barely contained rage, clearly not pleased to see their girlfriends draped all over him.
Jemmy noticed first. Her body tensed slightly, eyes darting toward the approaching guys before she leaned in closer to Dick, her lips brushing against his ear. "Looks like someone's mad," she whispered, a wicked grin tugging at her lips. She wasn't worried—if anything, she seemed excited by the potential conflict.
Betty and Hannah followed Jemmy's gaze, their expressions faltering as they saw their boyfriends. Hannah let out a soft gasp, her body stiffening on his side. "Shit," she whispered under her breath.
The tallest of the three, a guy with a buzz cut and a letterman jacket, stepped forward first, his chest puffed out like he was ready to throw down. "What the fuck is this, Jemmy?" he spat, his voice low and dangerous as his eyes flicked between her and Dick. His hands were clenched into fists.
Jemmy didn't even flinch. She grinned up at him, her hand resting on Dick's chest possessively. "Looks like we're having a good time, Don," she replied, her tone dripping with amusement. "You got a problem with that?"
Don's eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he stepped closer, towering over the table. "Yeah, I fucking do."
Betty's boyfriend wasn't far behind. A stocky guy with a scruffy beard and a mean look in his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at her. "Betty, you serious right now?" he growled, his voice thick with frustration.
Betty shrugged, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied smirk. "What? You jealous?" she teased, her voice light.
Hannah's boyfriend, the last of the trio, wasn't as bold. He stood back, his eyes darting between her and Dick, clearly unsure of how to handle the situation. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, but the tension in his body was obvious. He wasn't happy either.
Dick remained calm, a slow grin spreading across his face as he leaned back in his chair. He didn't move, didn't flinch. Just watched the scene unfold with mild amusement.
"You're gonna regret this, man," Don snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can just come in here, fuck around with our girls, and walk away?"
Jemmy chuckled softly, her fingers tracing circles on Dick's chest. "Oh, Don, don't be so dramatic. It's just a bit of fun."
Hannah shifted nervously on his left, her eyes darting toward her boyfriend. She seemed torn, unsure whether to stay or get up, but Dick's hand slid higher up her thigh, holding her in place. She let out a soft whimper, her body betraying her as she pressed closer to him.
Don took another step forward, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Dick. "You think you're some kind of hot shit, huh? Just because you've got a fancy car and some cash to throw around?" His fists tightened at his sides, his knuckles cracking.
Dick ignored the posturing jocks. His gaze shifted lazily to Jada, who sat with an expression of feigned disinterest, her lips barely curving into a smirk as if the scene unfolding before her was beneath her notice.
He raised an eyebrow, his voice calm, almost bored. "Why bother calling them if you're not even going to enjoy the spectacle?"
Jada glanced up, her dark eyes meeting his, a flicker of amusement dancing in them. "Maybe I just like watching the fallout," she replied smoothly, her tone cool.
Jemmy squinted at Jada. "Bitch, did you call them?"
Betty and Hannah whipped their heads toward Jada, eyes narrowing. "We kept quiet when you fucked the gym teacher," Hannah hissed, venom dripping from every word. "This is how you repay us? What a fucking sorority leader you are."
Betty leaned forward, her hand resting on Dick's thigh like a silent claim. "Is that it, Jada? You pissed we're getting the attention now? Thought we had each other's backs."
Jada's face remained calm, but a flicker of irritation flashed in her eyes. She uncrossed her arms, leaning back in her chair as if the accusations didn't phase her. "Please," she drawled, her voice thick with disdain. "Don't act like you didn't know this was coming. You've all been throwing yourselves at him all day."
Don walked closer, fists clenched, ready to make a move toward Dick. Before he could, the bar owner, Jack, stepped forward. The waitress had anticipated the situation and fetched him earlier, her eyes gleaming with the hope that the man who tipped generously might do give her a bigger tip—perhaps in more than just cash.
"Don," Jack called, his voice calm but firm, "don't cause trouble."
Don, chest still heaving, turned to face him. "Jack, he's messing with our girls. You just gonna let this happen?"
Jack, a grizzled man in his forties, glanced from Don to Dick, assessing the situation with the experienced eye of someone who'd seen more bar brawls than he cared to remember. He shifted his weight, scratching his chin as he gave a slow, almost dismissive shake of his head. "He is the same age as you, Don. Girls chose him." His voice remained measured as he locked eyes with Don. "I don't see a problem with that."
Don's face flushed with frustration, his fists twitching as if he couldn't decide whether to swing or back off. Behind him, the other two jocks were already faltering. Jack's presence alone was enough to deflate whatever bravado they'd built up.
"Jack," Don tried again, his voice lower now, more desperate than angry. "You're just gonna stand there while this—"
Jack cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't be an idiot, kid. You know how this works. They're not your property, no matter how much you puff out your chest. They want him. Deal with it."
The bluntness of Jack's words hit Don hard, and for a moment, he just stood there, mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say. Betty, sitting next to Dick, smirked up at him, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.
Dick didn't say a word, leaning back in his chair, watching the scene play out. His hand slid lazily over Jemmy's ass, making her squirm in his lap, a soft moan escaping her lips. He wasn't even pretending to care about Don's tantrum, and that only made the jock seethe more.
"You should listen to Jack," Jemmy murmured, her voice teasing as she ran her hand over Dick's chest. "You can't win this one."
Don glared at her, his fists tightening again, but Jack's steady presence kept him from making a move. One of the other guys stepped forward. "Come on, man, let's just go. This isn't worth it."
He just stared Don down, unflinching, until finally, with a frustrated growl, Don took a step back, his jaw tight. "This ain't over," he spat, though the threat sounded hollow.
"Sure," Jack said flatly. "Now, get out of here."
Don's friends tugged at his arm, and reluctantly, he let himself be pulled away, casting one last furious look over his shoulder at Dick. The girls, now safely nestled around him, watched with wide eyes as the three jocks stormed out of the bar.
"Well, that was fun," Dick said, his voice dripping with amusement. He ran a hand lazily through Jemmy's hair, smirking as he watched Don and his crew disappear into the night.
Betty laughed softly, licking her lips as she glanced up at him. "You handled that like a pro."
Dick shook his head. "Just high school drama." His voice carried a touch of disdain, brushing the whole situation off like an annoying fly. Jack looked at him for a beat, his eyes weighing the scene before him, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he gave a gruff nod, turned, and walked back toward the bar.
Jada, sitting across from Dick, was less than impressed. She'd been expecting something more—maybe a fistfight, maybe some grand explosion of emotion—but it had fizzled out into nothing. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her amusement from earlier gone.
"That's it?" she asked, her tone sharp, cutting through the remaining tension like a blade.
Dick smirked with one arm still wrapped around Jemmy's waist as she shifted on his lap, her body pressed against his. "You were expecting a show?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock curiosity.
Jada's eyes narrowed slightly, her irritation clear. "I thought you'd be more… entertaining." Her gaze flicked over to the door where Don and his friends had left, then back to him. "Guess I was wrong."
Betty snickered softly beside him, her fingers tracing idle circles on his thigh. "You wanted a scene, Jada? You'll have to do better than some jocks with bruised egos." Her voice was light, teasing, as if she found the whole situation amusing.
Jada's jaw tightened, but she didn't respond right away. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes burned with frustration. She was used to being the one in control, the one who could make or break a moment, and seeing things slip from her grasp clearly bothered her.
Dick kept ignoring Jada, turning his attention to the others in her group—each one eager for a slice of the action. He slid his hand back around Betty's waist, pulling her close. She laughed softly, leaning into his chest, her eyes glinting with the thrill of being the center of his attention. Jada's glare burned from across the table, but he didn't bite.
Instead, he shifted toward another girl—Liz, maybe?—who had been hanging back, watching everything unfold. "What's your drink, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice smooth as he reached for the whiskey. Liz flushed, clearly caught off guard by his sudden attention, but she didn't hesitate. She leaned in closer, eager to bask in the moment.
"Whiskey's fine," she said, her voice soft but laced with a touch of excitement.
Dick poured a glass for her, handing it over with a casual grin. "There you go." His fingers brushed hers for just a second, enough to make her blush harder. Betty, sensing the shift, tightened her grip on his thigh, but Dick didn't mind the possessiveness. It played perfectly into his plan.
As the night wore on, he kept playing the group like a master conductor—flirting with Liz, laughing with Betty, teasing the others. His hand would slide down Hannah's back when she got too quiet, pulling her back into the fold just as she started to feel left out.
Jada, though? He barely gave her a second look. Each time she tried to edge in, to recapture the spotlight, Dick would lean in close to one of the other girls, letting his lips graze their ear as he whispered something that made them giggle or blush. He could feel Jada's frustration growing with each passing minute, see the way her fingers drummed impatiently against the table, her jaw tightening.