I shake my head. Sweat starts forming at my hairline in tiny dots. There’s no way Brayden won’t know something is going on. Then I get another sensation, softly at first. A vibration so low I think I’m imagining it. A gentle buzz against my clit, something too quiet to be heard over the restaurant noise and yet I’m not sure I could really hear anything over the rush of blood in my ears.
“It comes with an app.” Asher taps his phone again. The buzzing comes faster, enough to tease but nowhere near what I need.
“Asher, I can’t— We can’t?—”
“Do you want me to stop, princess?”
Yes. Except the word won’t come.No, don’t stop. What I can’t quite say. “How am I supposed to survive dinner like this?” How am I going to survive the next few minutes like this? I can feel myself getting wet, and that only makes the vibrator work better, a cycle that feels like I’m spiraling toward either pleasureor destruction and I’m not sure which. I’m about to tell Asher to stop—that this is too much—when Brayden comes back.
He sits, glances between Asher and me. “Everything good?”
I nod, feeling like I’m coming more and more undone. Asher smirks into his drink.
Our food arrives, thankfully. I try to distract myself by shifting my dinner around on my plate, afraid that if I actually raise my arm to eat it, my hand will shake or my fork or possibly my entire body.
So I drink more water. I play with my lock necklace. I mentally recite various analysis methods. I try to follow the volley of conversation—argument, really, even if Asher and Brayden both seem like they’re enjoying it—while my body rebels against me.
My nipples harden to points. Heat gathers between my legs and at the base of my spine. Brayden and Asher ask me questions, occasionally. I’m sure I give answers, the way I’m sure I’m eating and tasting food, but everything in me is coiling and coiling, my whole body focused on the buzzing between my legs and the orgasm thrumming just under my skin.
Eventually, we finish eating. The waiter clears our dishes. I had the duck with a squash puree, apparently. Asher makes a show out of taking out his phone, ostensibly to look up something Brayden is saying, but then vibrator turns up even further instead.
I clench my thighs together a few times. Grip my seat like I’m going to come undone, which I just might. I have to do something—have to either get this vibrator off me or get myself off. I jump up, grab my purse. “Be right back.”
“Are you okay?” Brayden rises.
I flinch back. “Really, I’m fine.”
A worried line forms between his eyebrows. “Are you getting a headache? Do you need…?” He pats down his pants pocket and pulls out a small tube. Uncaps it.
It takes a second to spot the label on the pills. Excedrin Migraine, the same as what’s in my little keychain pill holder. He must have bought those for me, specifically.
A wave of guilt washes over me. My vision is clear, my head un-throbbing. But here Brayden is, concerned. “I just need a few minutes, and I’ll be fine,” I say. Which isn’t a lie, exactly, but isn’t the truth either.
Asher gets up. “I should head out too.”What’s he doing?I can’t ask that, obviously.
“Gonna eat and run?” Brayden says.
“Nah.” Asher looks right at me. “Not really my style if I can help it.” He takes out his phone again.If that vibrator gets turned up anymore, I might faint.“How much do I owe you for dinner?”
Standing repositioned the vibrator so it’s sitting flush with my clit. I turn, offer Asher a hug goodbye—something appropriate with our bodies far away from each other. Then he whispers in my ear. “Last bathroom. Two minutes.”
I should tell him no. Tell him whatever happened between us is over. Instead I just nod then walk away, as quickly as I can with the toy one man got me buzzing against my legs and the lock pendant from another bouncing against my chest.
A minute and half later,there’s a knock on the bathroom door. I crack it open. Asher’s in the hallway. I usher him in and turn the lock and try the handle a few times for good measure.
Asher doesn’t wait for more invitation. He backs me against the counter, runs his hand up my thigh under the hem of my dress, caresses my panties with two fingers. “You’re wet.”
He pushes the vibrator more firmly against me. It’s loud in the quiet bathroom, uninterrupted by anything but the sounds of my own ragged breathing. “You didn’t know you were going to see me,” he says. “So why’d you wear this?”
“I…” I swallow. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do. You got all dressed up to go out with your husband and…what, put this on?”
That’s what happened, more or less. I fixed my hair, retouched my makeup. Got into my dress and left my shapewear in my suitcase. While Brayden was in the bathroom getting ready, I palmed the vibrator from its case and slid it on, clipping the magnet on the other side of my underwear to hold it in place. I told myself I just wanted to see what it was like. And I was about to unclip it when Brayden came out and asked if I was ready to go. “Yes,” I admit.
“Was it forhim?” Asher turns me around until I’m braced against the counter, flips the hem of my dress above my ass. Sees my panties—clearly soaked—and the black anti-chafing bands I have on each thigh. “Was it for me?”
“It was for me,” I gasp.
