He dips his fingers inside, and I nearly jump out of my chair.
“Rhett.”
This was a bad idea. I really should have stopped him. There’s no way I’m going to be able to keep quiet. I’m alreadyteetering on the edge of an orgasm and the man has barely touched me.
Our waiter returns just as Rhett’s fingers curl, hitting the perfect spot.
I expect him to remove his hand, or stop moving, but he doesn’t.
Dessert is offered.
Rhett declines with a glint in his eyes.
If the waiter realizes what’s going on, he doesn’t let on. He simply nods. “I’ll be right back with your check.”
When he leaves, Rhett locks eyes with me. “You heard him. He’ll be right back. You’re gonna come for me before that. No one gets your orgasms but me now, Bristol. Got it?”
I start to tell him I can’t, but the words die on my lips. Pleasure roars deep in my core. I squeeze his hand between my legs and bite down on my lip so hard that I taste blood. Trying desperately to breathe through my nose andnotmake a sound, I find myself grinding against his palm as he finger fucks me.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Your pussy is so tight right now. You’re coming all over my hand, Bristol.”
I can hear my heart beating wildly in my ears and I’m forced to grip the sides of my seat just for something to hold on to as I ride the wave.
“Perfect,” he hums and withdrawals his hand just as the waiter returns with our check.
“Ma’am, are you okay? Can I get you another water?” he asks, while handing the check directly to Rhett, who dares to laugh.
“Fine.” I cough. “I’m fine. Just got a little warm in here.”
Total understatement.
The waiter nods. “Let me know if you need anything else. I’m just going to go check on my other tables. I’ll be back around.”
When he leaves, Rhett puts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. “I can’t wait for the rest of my dessert.” He winks.
With his other hand he pulls out his wallet and credit card. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Rhett kisses my cheek and excuses himself.
Rhett disappears down the narrow hallway toward the restroom, leaving me alone at the table with a half-empty glass of wine and my body still buzzing with arousal.
I press my thighs together and squirm.
Holy hell.
Staring at the candle in the middle of the table, I try to wrap my head around what just happened.
We were eating. Talking. Enjoying each other’s company.
Then Rhett’s hand had found its way between my legs.
And no one noticed.
Not the couple celebrating an anniversary two tables over. Not the server gliding past with effortless grace. No one but me.
The thrill of him making me come undone in the middle of the restaurant makes my pulse kick again.
I’ve been on dates before. Good ones. Fine ones. A few that ended with polite hugs and promises that never materialized.
This?
