It was hard to remember anything before… ten seconds ago… but Tabby tried. “I, uh, yeah. It was nice. Relaxing.”
“Good. Now, thank me.”
“Huh?”
“Say, ‘Thank you for my nice, relaxing day out.’” Toby’s voice was so rough it was like it had also grown stubble.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The hand on her thigh tightened. “‘Thank you, Toby.’”
She was dripping, the silk of her arousal sliding slowly to her ass. She was definitely going to ruin this dress. “Thank you,” she muttered. “Toby.”
“Good girl.”
His mouth was centimetres from hers, and Tabby’s lips tingled in anticipation of a kiss, yet part of her was worried. They werevisuallyhidden behind the curtain, but the music wasn’t loud enough to block out the people talking around them. And if she could hearthem,theycould hear her. If things got hotter, she didn’t trust herself to keep quiet.
But when Toby’s mouth touched hers, she stopped caring about anything. His tongue flicked across hers, and her brain fogged, more than willing to let anything happen, right here and right now and damn the noise.
Then he stopped kissing her, releasing her thigh and reaching for his scotch. He took a swig over her shoulder, his free hand moving across her stomach, holding her fast to his erection. Tabby closed her eyes, trying not to whimper. In the taxi, she’d wondered if she looked so hot she could take him down a peg or two, but if anything, Toby’s attraction seemed to be making him act even more like a pig, and she… loved it. Her headspace was pure submissive, ready and willing to do whatever he wanted.Prayingshe’d get to do whatever he wanted.
“Evening.” A new waiter pushed through the curtain, clean-shaven and curly-haired. He presented them with a bucket of champagne on ice, two glasses and her lime soda. “Would you like me to open the bottle for you?” he asked.
“Sure,” Toby said as his hand moved from her belly to just below her left breast.
Tabby’s heart stopped dead. Surely, he wasn’t going to?—
His thumb moved upward, subtly stroking the hard peak of her nipple, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from gasping. The waiter extracted the Moët from the ice bucket, tactfully looking away as Toby continued to toy with her nipple as though he had every right to do it. Tabby’s face glowed with shame, but she couldn’t help shifting against him, wishing the hard length of his cock was inside her, moving slowly while the waiter stood unaware, peeling the wrapper from the champagne. She bit her lip, praying she didn’t look as turned on as she felt.
“Busy night?” Toby asked the waiter as the cork popped.
“Pretty busy. But, good-looking crowd.”
“That must make it easier…”
“Definitely.” The waiter’s gaze found hers, and shock mixed with something Tabby barely had the awareness to process. Hunger. Then he hurriedly looked away, pouring champagne into their glasses.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Toby said casually.
The waiter’s nervous expression melted into a wolfish smile. “Yeah.”
Tabby froze. Was this Toby’s plan? To tag team her in Prism alongside this curly-haired staffer? The thumb working her nipple felt twice as obvious, and she allowed herself a tiny whimper as she imagined Toby and the waiter taking turns, commenting on her body as they fucked her mouth, her pussy, her ass. Congratulating themselves on finding someone to service both of them…
“Cheers, mate,” Toby said. “Have a good night. We won’t be needing anything else.”
“Sure.” The waiter’s gaze flashed over her face, and Tabby had to look away, mortified by her thoughts.
“You too,” the waiter said, and with a last look at her tits, he left.
Toby laughed softly as he continued to massage her nipple. “Did you like that?”
“I… I’m…?”
“Too turned on to talk?” he clasped his free hand to her chin, turning her to face him. “What’s going on inside that pretty head of yours? Are you nervous? Do you think I’m going to share you around?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you, Tabitha?”
