I gasped as he trailed his nails along my inner thigh and squeezed. “Oh, yes.”
“Troy,” I whispered, scared that someone might see.
“You just focus on me, Sugar. Let me take care of you.”
“Troy, please,” I whispered as he leaned forward, his lips hovering over mine, still not giving me the kiss that I yearned for. Instead, his fingers trailed along the wet spot between my legs.
I clasped his hand, stopping his movements. “Someone will see.”
That sexy smile of his made me shudder, and he ignored my plea as he continued to drag his nail along the seam of my wet panties. I blushed as heat flooded my veins and my good girl side went out the window.
I ran my hand up his forearm, stroking it back and forth while watching as his hand moved beneath my skirt. To any random bystander, we were just having an intimate conversation, but what they didn’t know was that this Royal Bastard had his fingers sliding against the Mayor’s daughter’s wet pussy.
“What would people think if they knew the sweet unblemished daughter of the town’s Mayor, was being fingered by a recluse in the back of a restaurant?”
“I don’t think I’d want to know what they’d say.”
“Why?” He asked, dipping his head into my neck and biting down on my shoulder.
I held back a whimper and shifted in the seat, hitching a breath as the movement made me slide my clit against his finger.
“You like that?” The question was rhetoric as he continued to circle my wet clit with the tip of his finger.
It was a gentle torturous movement. One that made me feel desperate for a release and kept me just at that edge where I lost my sense of sanity.
“Please,” I gripped his neck as I shifted in my seat. My legs parted and my hips rotated as I seeked out more.
He looked up at me beneath a hooded gaze, his dark eyes telling me just how much he was enjoying torturing me. Round and round he went, so damn slow.
“Faster,” I whimpered.
He tsked, taunting me. “Turning you into my dirty girl takes time, Sugar.”
He hitched up my skirt and we both looked down at my lap, watching how his finger stroked my bare pussy.
“Fuck, me. Did you shave her for me?”
I bit down on my lip not knowing how to respond.
“Use your words,” he whispered into my ear.
“Yes, Sir.”
“There’s my good girl.”
His finger was slowly torturing me when I saw Cherry approaching the table.
“Fuck.” I sat up, shoving my skirt down. I tried to close my legs, but Troy kept my leg trapped on his lap and my clit trapped between his forefinger and middle finger as he spoke to her. My nails dug into his forearm as he ordered another whiskey and wine. She narrowed her eyes on me briefly, his fingers continued to stroke me, up and down, as I tried to keep my composure. She rolled her eyes and grimaced as she twirled around and stormed off.
As soon as she disappeared, he yanked my zipper open, leaving me naked and defenseless against his advances. Leaning forward, he licked my neck as he inserted his fingers deep inside of me. His other hand circled my sensitive clit and he whispered. “Cum for me, dirty girl.”
Gripping the edge of the cushion I spread my legs, humping at his fingers, and loving how they filled me. It had been so long since I had sex with anyone, this was beyond good, it was addictive.
“Let go,” he whispered sensually, and I allowed the orgasm to rack my body. I didn’t care if anyone saw me. Had no sense of will at that moment. All I wanted was to follow his orders.
When it was over, he slid his fingers out of me and I watched, speechless, as he dragged his finger across the chocolate icing on the cake and then lifted it up to his lips, sucking every little bit of me off of them.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “You taste like heaven.”
I slumped back into the booth, my eyes slowly wandering around the restaurant. People constantly glanced back at me and I could swear, they knew. I tried hiding my face away, but Saddle didn’t let me. Instead, he began to feed me. Bite by succulent bite, forcing me to ignore everybody in that damn restaurant.
“No one knows you here, Crystal. They have no clue who your father is or who I am. Relax.”
“But what if they saw?”
“All they saw was a woman being loved by her man, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”
“There is if word gets to my father.”
“Sugar, this ain’t nothin’ compared to what I’m going to do to you. So finish up your dessert and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I complied quickly. Allowing him to take the lead. I’d never had a man take care of me, and in its own way, it was freeing. He was what I wanted and somehow Santa was going to give him to me all wrapped up in a bright red bow and a black cowboy hat.
5
Saddle
I wanted to have her to myself last night and needed to get her to start trusting me. But when she stepped out of the house, and I saw what she was wearing, all thoughts of decency went out the window.
The woman was dressed in a black leather skirt and boots that ran up her thighs. Wrapping herself up in a red coat, she ducked her head from the cold and made her way toward me. All I could picture as I waited, were those long legs perched high up on my shoulders, rocking back and forth as I got to sink into her for the first time.
God help me, I knew I wasn't going to make it through dinner without touching her. But I didn't expect her to fuck herself on my fingers like she did. Or say my name in such a sexy way as her thighs trembled. I wanted to bend her over the table and make her scream my name.
I sat in my truck, with the engine cut off, as thoughts of her kept me company. It was fucking freezing as I waited for our contact to show up. Mike worked for a distributor in Seattle. He transported liquor to the restaurants in town and gave us our supply on the side. He got paid in cash, and we paid at cost. Under the table deals didn’t have to be reported at the end of the year.
So once a month one of us would come out here to pick up the product and give him the envelope full of cash. This year it was my turn, and of course, with my luck, he didn’t show.
It was getting late and I was getting more and more anxious. Mike was never late; the man was like a fucking clock.
I had a CB radio on the dashboard, and I turned it on to listen in on the noise. Everything was quiet but my anxiety kept getting worse. I pulled out my flip phone and dialed out to Bulldog.
"What's wrong?"
"He's a no show."
"That's not possible."
"Something's wrong, Prez. I could sense it. I'm stuck. I need eyes."
"Fuck. I'll contact Bruiser. Stay put."
This was the worst part. The waiting. I had to stay put. If I turned the truck on, I took the chance of being seen. And if I left, I risked missing the shipment. I slumped down into the seat and closed my eyes. I must have drifted off cause I awoke sometime later to the sound of someone pounding on the passenger window.
Grabbing a hold of my gun, I sat up, and pointed it at the glass as the pounding continued. I couldn’t see who it was because the glass had frost on it.
“Open up, Saddle!”