“No! Someone will see!” I hissed against his mouth.
“I didn’t mean right now,” he said, standing back. “You sure you don’t want to turn that no into a yes?”
Yes.
“Maybe?” I squeaked. Evan responded by kissing me harder.
“You don’t know how much I wanted to fuck that perfect, tight little pussy last night,” he whispered hoarsely in my ear. “This, though. This isn’t the place. But it doesn't mean we can’t have a little fun.”
What was he going to do? I was wearing black slacks this time, so he didn’t exactly have easy access to my goods. I was never going to doubt Evan’s abilities to detect openings, though.
Up against a wall, his kisses were more intense. I loved the way he made me feel, but I hated that he was so clearly reading my mind about all this. His hands were going down my body, his knee between my legs. Even through the fabric, I could feel his touch, his rubbing. Evan undid the button on the pants, and I hissed furiously at him.
“You can’t be stripping me right here. The boutique is still open. Someone might walk in! Weddings in the City could be banned from here if I’m caught… carrying on with you.”
“I don’t plan on fucking you here, Ivy,” Evan said in my ear. “I just want to give you another taste.”
He kissed me hard then pushed up my shirt, exposing my tits. He sucked on them while his sneaky hand moved into my pants, to the thin lacy panties, and again I was feeling his skillful touch. I bucked against him as he teased me, rubbing me through that fabric, knowing that that alone wasn’t enough to meet his goal but that it would make me ache for more.
My pussy was wet, and I moaned against his mouth as he kissed me while he stroked me. I let his tongue guide mine, enjoying the adrenaline rush that came from making out with an actual factual Hot GuyTM. Those were words I had never thought would describe someone who found me sexy and desirable and, dare I say, fuckable. The best I had ever had in my fantasies was a bartender with two part-time jobs. Evan was in a whole league of his own.
Finally, his finger slid past my panties.
“Do I even need to touch you like this, Ivy? Or are you just wet and ready to come at the simple sight of me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“For now, I’ll accept that maybe I have to actually try to turn you on. I don’t seem to have to try very hard, mind you, but I have to try.”
I gasped as his finger caressed my clit, flesh to flesh. All the teasing had been leading up to this. He was rubbing me steadily, powerfully. The intensity of his touch grew more and more hectic. I would have let out a loud moan for him, but his kiss was right there to stifle any noises I would make. The pressure of bliss was building inside me again, ready to erupt.
“Fuck,” I whimpered.
“I do want to fuck you,” he whispered against my mouth. “Think about it, Ivy—my thick cock in that tight, hot pussy, thrusting into you as you moan, my hands digging into your ass.”
I writhed against his hand, steady in its rhythm on my clit. I was so wet for him.
“I need your cock.”
“Mmh, I like it when you beg,” he said, dipping his head to suck on my tits. My imagination was making the situation worse, filled with thoughts of what he could do if we were both naked, free of restraints, all of our time and energy so completely dedicated to pleasing one another.
I shuddered as the climax hit me. I would have collapsed right there if Evan hadn’t been there to hold me tight in those huge, muscular arms of his. I rode out the orgasm, leaning into him. He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth.
He stood back and watched me rearrange my clothes with a smug smile.
“You have the best tits.”
“This is the last you’re seeing of them,” I said crossly. “This was such a terrible idea! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’re a horrible influence. If someone had seen us, my business would have been ruined!”
Evan smirked. “And yet part of you wishes I’d actually fucked you.”
Yup.
I swallowed. I needed to get ahold of myself.
You need Evan to get ahold of you.
“I don’t,” I croaked, turning to hurry back out into the showroom.
