5
Lukas
Gaze trainedon the bathroom door, I drink my wine and contemplate my ability to make it through dinner. Somehow I don’t quite think getting fucked on the table in full view is what Abby meant when she’d put public sex on her list, but damned if I don’t have the desire to do just that.
I’m not sure when I last wanted someone this badly. I’m not going to lie; I’m surprised it’s Abby. Sure, I’ve always found her funny and smart, but she’s not someone I ever thought I’d have sex with. And never in a million years would I have guessed she hid such a wild streak. Maybe I should have, considering the theory that it’s always the quiet ones, but I don’t know, I just hadn’t because I’d placed her in the nice-girl box and kept her there. But her mixture of innocence, curiosity and sex appeal make my normal rules impossible to abide by, so here I am.
Waiting for her to come out of the bathroom without her panties on.
It no longer matters that she’s my neighbor. Or that, despite her claims to the contrary, she’s a forever type of girl. None of my reservations matter, because, selfishly, I want her. I can give her what she craves. I’m good at it. And if I don’t take her up on this outlandish offer, she’ll find some other guy. A safer guy—one who’d never understand what she really needs.
It has to be me. I’ll worry about the future, the impending end, later.
The bathroom door opens and she emerges and walks down the narrow hallway to the dining room. Not looking right or left, she zeros in on our table, and weaves a path through the restaurant. Her right hand is clenched in a fist, and I stifle a groan at what she holds in her grasp.
While she strolls toward me, male patrons shoot covert glances in her direction, their appreciation clear. I don’t blame them one bit, but it’s her reaction that surprises me.
Abby pays no attention, and not the feigned, eyes forward, secret smile on her face, pretending not to notice people watching her, type of deal either. I mean she literally doesn’t comprehend her appeal.
She slides into the booth, keeping a good foot and a half between us. I hide my smile. The contradiction between the advance and retreat of her sexuality makes me want to rip her clothes off and put an end to the argument about which side of her should win.
I appraise her, letting my stare linger on her face, letting her wonder what I’ll do next. I didn’t have Abby take off her underwear for sport, or for my own amusement, although that’s an added benefit. I did it because she has an overactive brain and her stress at being naked under her skimpy dress will distract her from the business of how I might give her an orgasm. I suspect her inability to climax is a mixture of too much thinking and a failure to understand how she’s wired.
Lucky for her, I understand enough for both of us.
She’s gonna come, she’s too greedy not to. I just have to shut off her thoughts first.
I crook a finger. “Come here.”
She shoots me a wary glance but moves a fraction of an inch in my direction.
I repress my amusement and keep the edge of my voice hard. “Closer.”
Again she moves, but not anywhere near where I want her.
I’ll admit I like a girl that has some spirit in her, but I can’t let her get away with it or it will ruin the whole point. I decide to shock her. I raise a brow. “You looking to get that spanking crossed off your list the first night?”
Eyes going wide as saucers, she sidles right up next to me.
“Good girl.”
I chuckle when she gives me a fierce scowl before lifting her wineglass to her lips with the slightest of tremors. She takes a huge gulp of the Chianti, her throat working as she tries to swallow her nerves along with her wine. When she puts the goblet back on the table, her little chin tilts up. I can’t help admire her determination, despite her obvious unease.
Soon enough she’ll learn her discomfort, along with anticipation, only heighten her arousal.
I pray I’ll survive.
The heat of her body warms my skin through my clothes. The scent of her swirls around me, the mixture of sweet spice and sex makes me dizzy. But I’m not the point here, she is, and I put my baser desires aside and focus on her.
I hold out my palm. “Hand them over.”
“Fine, here.” She raises her eyes to the ceiling and shakes her head. Despite the fact she clearly finds me unreasonable, she presses black silk panties into my waiting palm.
I rub the fabric between my thumb and forefinger, not surprised at the already damp cloth. I smirk at her. “For a girl who’s so annoyed, you certainly are wet, aren’t you?”
She gasps, her breasts overflowing the top of her dress as she sucks in a huge breath. “Iamannoyed!”
“I know you are,” I say agreeably, knowing it will only increase her agitation. “Funny how it only makes you more aroused.”