“Blaze, if a man shows you his true colours, don't ignore them. I want you to be happy, but Ineedyou to be safe.”
“I’m fine, we're fine! Please, go back to the table. I still need to pee, and then I'll be right out.” He eyes me skeptically, but relents.
When I'm done, I take a moment to regroup and mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of happy couple on the other side of the table, as well as the over-eager advances from my own date. But as I approach the table, I see that Jake and Brad seem to be squaring off to one another. I rush the last few steps back to the table, “What is going on? You're making a scene, everyone is staring!” I hiss.
Jake takes a deep breath and flexes his fists a few times before turning to me. “Did he follow you to the bathroom?”
I'm so caught off guard that I splutter my instant denial, “What? No! Jake, where is this coming from? You've been acting kind of off all night and now you're accusing me of...of...I don't even know what!” I wave my hands around wildly, fully aware that I'm attracting even more attention from the tables around us but unable to stop myself because I'm not done. “And what about poor Larissa? You're pointing fingers at me, at herboyfriend, how do you think that must make her feel?”
Larissa is still seated, staring at her plate. Her hair has fallen forward to curtain her face and I can't help but feel that it looks intentional. As if she's trying to protect herself from the awkward predicament we're now in.
“You're right, Amour,” Jake gathers my hands in his. “I’m sorry, I think it's just the nerves about us all getting along have taken over.” He blows out a breath and his shoulders drop, “I know that's not an excuse but...I am sorry.” He directs the last apology to the table.
The tension in Brad's jaw hasn't abated, but he forces himself to sit back in his chair. “I’m sorry, ladies. I didn't mean to make either of you uncomfortable.” He takes Larissa's hand and holds it in his lap.
Larissa looks so lost, her gaze ping-ponging between the two men. My appetite is gone and honestly, I just want the night to be over at this point. “Are you alright?” I ask her quietly, and she just nods with a wobbly smile.
The waitress comes back to clear our dishes and asks if we want to look at the dessert menus, but I just cannot stomach another hour of this tension, so I make my excuses. “Ah, thanks, but no dessert for me. Dinner was plenty filling and I'm actually feeling really tired. Would you all mind if we just paid the bill so we can head home?”
Everyone seems relieved at the suggestion, so as soon as the bill is paid we head out to the street. Brad grabs my hand to hold me back a few steps and murmurs, “Do you want us to drop you home?”
This guy.“You're sweet Bradminton, but I'm good. I'll call you in the morning and we can go get our girl from Jaime's together if you want?” His eyes immediately soften at the mention of Lizzie, and with a hummed assent, he hugs me goodnight.
Larissa gives me a soft hug, but there's a look in her eye. I can't put my finger on it, but she almost looks...sad.
“Is everything ok?”
She clears her throat, “Yeah, of course. I really like you, Shari. You deserve happiness.”
That was not what I was expecting her to say and now I feel like even more of an asshole for being jealous over her boyfriend. Stupid, stupid emotions. “I really like you, too. I couldn't have picked a better girlfriend for my baby daddy.” I nudge her shoulder with mine, but instead of making her smile, it seems to make her even more somber.
When I turn to Jake, his expression is unreadable. “Are you ready to go home?”
The smile that crawls over his face is positively lascivious, “Yes, my Shari Amour. I'm more than ready.”
We stumblethrough the door to Jake's flat, his hands and mouth all over me. He's been particularly handsy tonight, especially in the cab on the way back here as he apologised for his behaviour during dinner.
The door slams shut behind me, and I find myself shoved up against it in the next instance, the breath stolen from my lungs at the sudden impact. Not giving me any time to recover, Jake presses the full length of his body against mine, groaning into my neck as he grinds against me. Thankfully, the door is smooth or I'm pretty sure I'd be finding splinters in my back tomorrow.
“Jake, you're crushing me,” I croak out.
He pulls back, looking almost angry, and drags me over to the chair by the terrace doors. He takes several deep breaths as though to calm himself, and when he opens his eyes again, the storm within them has calmed. His lips descend on mine and he kisses me sweetly, teasingly, one hand threaded into my hair, holding me in place, and the other arm wrapped around my back, fingers rubbing my buttocks.
When he pulls away, a slow smirk hikes his lips up on one side and he sits down on the chair slowly, dragging his eyes down my body as he goes. His hands slide up the outside of my thighs, pulling my dress up and he hands me the hem, “Hold on to this and don't let go until I say.”
His hands slide back down, taking my panties with them, and when he gets to my ankles, I step out of them completely. I don't notice where they end up because Jake pulls me forward, massaging handfuls of my arse, and I have to widen my stance so I can straddle the chair, still standing. He slides down slightly so he can latch his mouth onto my clit, and he starts a suckling motion, making my hips jerk in surprise.Fuck, why hasn't he done this before?
I moan my approval and he slips two fingers inside me, but just before I'm about to tip over the edge, he removes himself from my body completely and pushes me away enough that he can frantically strip off his own clothes. I barely get time to appreciate the view before he tugs my hand forcefully and I stumble to catch myself on the edge of the chair.
Gripping his leaking cock in one hand, he commands, “Suck it, Amour. I'm dying to have your lips wrapped around me.” I suddenly realise that I haven't actually done this for him before.
I kneel slowly in front of him and lick from root to tip before I take him in my mouth and start an easy rhythm, my hand gripping the base. “Deeper,” is the growl I hear before he grips my head to ram his cock down my throat. I slap his thighs in protest and he pulls out as suddenly as he started and is breathing heavily as I choke on air. “I’m sorry, Amour, I'm just used to having...I'm sorry.”
Rubbing my throat, I croak, “I forgive you, but I really need you to check with me before you get carried away.” He takes my hand and pulls me up to straddle his lap, rubbing up and down my thighs.
“I’ll do better, I swear it.” He continues rubbing my thighs, higher and higher, until his thumbs meet where I need his touch the most. “Is this ok?”
I'm writhing on his lap, breathless, “Yes. More than ok. Don't stop.” But the fucker does stop for a moment to pull my dress over my head and unhook my bra so I'm bared completely to him. Thankfully, his thumbs return to their earlier ministrations, but again he stops before I come, and I make my protest known.
