“You didn’t say I couldn’t take the pressure away.”
What.
No.
Oh, god.
Yes.
He lifts my skirt up, and my knees shake as he uses his finger to hook my panties and pull them to the side, and then his mouth is on me. I whimper, and I wish I had it in me to stop him, but I really don’t. The moment his tongue swipes through my folds and rubs against my clit, I’m gone. I can’t control the moans of pleasure, or the way my fingers tangle into his hair.
He’s skilled.
His tongue is incredible.
He licks me like he’s licked a thousand pussies. Hell, he probably has. The man has talent and, as he devours me, it takes everything for me not to shove his head away and lower myself onto his cock. The ache inside me is so intense and building so rapidly, I can barely think straight. When he slips his fingers inside me, pressing against that swollen, hard spot, I know I’m going to lose it.
I don’t know how much more I can take.
God help me. I’m going to scream this place down.
When my orgasm finds me and his teeth start doing dangerous things to my clit, I release that scream. I clutch his hair, my knees shake, and my cries echo through the night as the world’s best orgasm rips through my body. A pressure builds and builds and something happens that has never happened to me in my entire life ... I squirt.
I didn’t even know it was possible. I didn’t know this kind of pleasure was possible. I can’t stop it, and the feeling that comes in with it makes my screams even more intense. I don’t have it in me to be embarrassed ... Not yet anyway. The second it’s all over and my knees have stopped shaking and my vagina has stopped doing whatever the hell it just did, well ... then the shame hits.
I look down at him.
He looks up at me.
I shove my hands over my face and cry out loudly, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”
He stands, releasing my hips. I didn’t even feel his hands there. He shrugs off his jacket, takes off his shirt, and uses it to clean up.
I stand there, utterly mortified.
How awful. How disgusting.
He steps forward, his hands go to my face, and then he leans in and he kisses me. He kisses me with a ferocity that has my legs going to jelly. His tongue is wild and dangerous, and it tastes just like me, and I can smell myself on him, yet I’m not turned off. I’m turned on, god am I turned on. Especially when his tongue tangles with mine and his lips wipe out any shame left in my body.
When he pulls back, I’m panting.
“That was the hottest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever had happen to me,” he murmurs.
Then, with that, he turns and walks off, jacket swinging in his hand by his side, bare back on display, an ass that I can’t tear my eyes from.
What the hell just happened?
Am I dreaming?
I’m not sure, but whatever the case ... I just toyed with the enemy.
And I loved it.
“WAIT, YOU SQUIRTED?” Ramona squeals, throwing herself onto my bed when we get home after I rushed out of there without showing my face inside again.
“Yes,” I cringe, pressing my hands over my face.
I just told her the entire story.
“That is incredible! Has that ever happened before? What was it like? God, men go crazy for that shit.”
“It was weird,” I say, peeking through my fingers. “I didn’t know what was happening until it was too late. One minute, I feel this pressure building and then I’m orgasming and I can feel it happening but I can’t stop it.”
“And you didn’t fuck him after that? Honey, if he can do that with his mouth, imagine what he could do with his cock?”
“It was mortifying!” I say, flopping down backward. “He’s probably over there telling everyone right now.”
“And they’re probably slapping him on the back. I told you, men love that.”
“What if he didn’t, god, what if he’s just sitting there right now thinking about how disgusting I am?”
Ramona laughs and lies down beside me. “He told you it was the hottest thing to ever happen to him; I highly doubt a man like that would say something he didn’t mean.”
“I’ve seen the women he gets around with, they’re gorgeous and no doubt crazy in bed. I think he was just saying it to make me feel better.”
“You two can’t stand each other, I highly doubt it. And the women he fucks are fake, they probably lay there and give him exactly what they think he wants but it isn’t real. You were real, and I can guarantee he loved it.”
“What am I going to do now? I can’t show my face there again.”
Ramona laughs. “Lucky for you, we don’t have to. One night only, remember. Though, I wouldn’t mind going back there. I quite liked Papi.”
I roll to her. “Adan, you mean?”
“He told me to call him Papi.”
“Ugh, he’s a player.”
“He’s an incredibly hot player who I wouldn’t mind spending a few nights with.”
I curl my upper lip, because I can hardly argue with her. I mean, I did just squirt all over Riggs.
Ugh.
I’m not ready to think about it right now.
“You go do whatever you want with Adan, I can’t ever go there again.”
Ramona giggles. “But, we both know you’re thinking about how good he would be in bed.”
I exhale. “God, I am. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”
“Maybe you should end the war and see what else you can get from him ...”
“The thing is, I think the war was what made it so hot, because we have so much anger and frustration toward each other.”
“Well, in that case, keep the war and fuck him anyway.”
“Stop saying that,” I scoff. “I’m a lady.”
She bursts out laughing. “Okay, squirter.”
I roll over and punch her, then we both burst into a fit of laughter.
“We should get to sleep so I can go and annoy the hell out of the food inspector tomorrow until he gives up and leaves so I can open my café.”
“Great plan,” Ramona yawns. “Now shove over, I’m too lazy to get a cab. I’m sleeping here.”
I move over and she climbs into bed with me, and we fall asleep quickly.
Morning comes equally as fast, and I get up while Ramona still sleeps, shower, and grab a coffee before heading over to my café. The inspectors are already in there, and when I arrive, I’m informed that the calls made were a prank and the caller rang up and confessed and that they’ve finished their inspection and everything is fine. I can reopen today.
Riggs took it back.
I don’t know if I’m shocked, pissed, or confused.
I’m pretty damned happy, though.
Especially when I flip the sign to open, call my staff, and then walk into my kitchen to start baking.
I bake until my fingers hurt and the entire café smells like cake.
Then, I hand Gabe, my young apprentice, a cake and tell him to take it to the garage next door. On top, it has ‘thank you’ spelled out.
We might be at war, and I still want him gone, but I’m not rude enough to not give thanks where thanks are due.
I then get onto their website, all their social media pages, and I leave a glowing review for the garage.