by Lane Hart
“Right,” she agrees.
“As soon as I came back from Iraq, she had the divorce papers ready for me to sign.”
“Wow,” Cynthia mutters. “She didn’t even want to try and make things work once you came home?”
“No,” I answer. “I came home, ready to surprise my wife, and another man answered the door. She had been living with him for more than two of my four years of service in our house, and I had no fucking idea.”
“Jeez, Reece. I’m so sorry.”
“I felt like a complete idiot,” I admit. “Standing there on the porch of my house, that was no longer mine, with a wife who had been fucking another man behind my back for years. Everything I had been looking forward to coming home to was gone with a snap of my fingers. It never occurred to me that she would move on…”
“That was wrong of her to do that to you,” Cynthia says. “Even if she fell in love with someone else, she should’ve told you.”
“I should’ve realized that her letters were generic, nothing about what was going on in her life and no real concern for mine,” I tell her. “I’m pretty sure she was hoping I would get killed. She would get my benefits, and then I would never have to know she was sharing a life with someone else. There I was, cracking the secrets of other fucking nations, and I didn’t know my own wife was cheating on me and wanted a divorce.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that would be,” she says.
“We had only been married a few months before I left, so I don’t know why I expected her to wait four years for me.”
“She shouldn’t have married you if a few years while you were serving our county were too long to wait,” she says.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I admit the mistake I made. “I didn’t tell her I was enlisting,” I confess. “I went and did it, then told her. She was pissed because she didn’t get a say in it. That’s when I should’ve known I had fucked everything up.”
“I could see why she would be angry at you for making such a big decision that would affect her life too, but she should’ve supported you,” Cynthia says. “And been honest with you that she was seeing someone and they were living together in your house.”
“Well she didn’t,” I grumble. “Those first few weeks back in the states, I had nothing. I was living in a hotel, drinking constantly. Then, I stumbled into the Savage Asylum one day and met Deacon Fury. Eventually, he talked me into prospecting for the club on the ‘expedited track.’”
“You know, it’s hard for me to picture you as a prospect,” she replies.
“I wasn’t one for long,” I tell her with a chuckle. “Deacon said my honorable discharge from the military was worth eight months of proving myself to the club. He made me do scut work for four months while I set up the club’s security and surveillance system since they didn’t have one yet; and during that time, he gave me a place to live. His friendship, the brotherhood, it was everything I needed, and even when I could, I didn’t leave.”
“You found where you belonged,” Cynthia says.
“Exactly,” I agree. “Now, I’ve given so much of my life to the club that it seems nearly impossible to take back a little of myself for you.”
“You’ll figure out a way, if that’s what you want,” she replies softly.
“I will,” I agree, pulling her closer. “Because I want you.”
Chapter Twenty
Cynthia
I’m falling for Reece.
No, that’s not true.
I think I already fell completely in love with him.
We haven’t been dating long, but how I feel about him is undeniable. And for the first time in my life, I think I’ve found a good man who loves me too and would never do anything to hurt me.
But Reece also loves the Savage Kings and has a huge responsibility with the club that he can’t shirk. I would never ask him to give up monitoring the club’s security, and he’s determined to find a way to juggle both being with me and not leaving the entire MC open to an attack.
Even though we both want to take things slow, there’s something that I need to do now. It’s been a long time coming, over three years, ten really, but finally I’m ready to sever the ties with the man who hurt me more times than I could count.
I’m meeting with a divorce attorney to start the paperwork to finally end our marriage.
With Kirk in prison, I’m no longer scared of him finding me. I need to put that asshole and the suffering he caused me in the past for good so that one day I may have a future with Reece, if that’s what he decides he wants.
Still, I’m not planning to tell Reece about the divorce proceedings on the chance that it will send him running, thinking that I expect him to want to marry me right away when that’s not what this is about at all. I don’t want to rush him or give him the wrong idea, so I’ll wait and tell him that I’m free whenever things get to that point for us, if it ever does. And I think it will.
I have a good feeling about our relationship. I’ve been through the worst pain imaginable because of a horrible man. Now it’s time to see if I can find a little happiness with a good one.
…
Reece
“You didn’t have to take me out tonight, especially somewhere so nice,” Cynthia says from the passenger seat when I open the Jeep door for her. “We could’ve just hung out in your apartment…or in your bed.”
“What kind of man do you take me for?” I huff. “I’m not gonna stop giving you date nights just because we’re sleeping together. First, a nice dinner, and then I’m going to take you to bed and ravish you all night long.”
“Oh, well, thank you for that clarification,” she teases with a smile before she takes my hand and lets me help her out so I can lead us to the front of The Captain’s Table, a new upscale steakhouse.
Tonight, Cynthia’s even more beautiful than usual in a long-sleeve green dress that brings out her eyes and stops at her knees with a pair of sexy, strappy shoes that show off her amazing legs. Legs I plan to throw over my shoulders later…
The woman wasn’t joking about loving sex. We’ve been together at least ten times since the night at the aquarium only three days ago. Cynthia’s insatiable. I’m starting to understand that, while she may have been looking for more over the years hanging around the Savage Kings’ clubhouse, in the meantime I think she was also enjoying the frequent physical relationships with several members.
Which makes me wonder if I alone can be enough to sate her now. After we’re together for a while, if things start to get boring, will she look for a little excitement on the side? Will I lose her to another man like I lost my wife?
That’s why, before we get to the door, I pull her aside so we’re not blocking the entrance and ask, “Do you miss it?”
Brow furrowed, she says, “Miss what?”
“A different man each weekend? Sometimes several at the, ah, same time?”
She blinks up at me a moment before she reaches up to unbutton the top of my black dress shirt I put on under my cut, making breathing a little easier. The steakhouse is fancier than a plain tee, but they’ll have to drag me out before I remove the cut.
Cynthia is still fidgeting with my collar when she says, “Are you asking me if I want or need more than you?”
“Yes.”
Gripping my shoulders, she leans in and places her lips gently on the swell of my Adam’s apple, making me swallow. And even that small kiss is enough to make the front of my black slacks tighten.
“Reece, being with you is better than all the other men and all the other times combined,” she says with another brush of her lips lower on my throat. “I don’t need or want anyone but you. In fact, you’re so amazing that you’ve given me a bad case of lover amnesia.”
“You’re sure?” I ask.
“Yes,” she responds pressing her tits against my chest to speak closer to my ear. “And if I ever feel the need for double penetration again, well, I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind sharing me with m
y vibrator or maybe wearing a strap-on to take me in two places at once, would you?”
Groaning at the thought, I say, “They make those? That are able to do…that?”
“Uh-huh,” she says with her lips on the sensitive side of my neck. “If I’m on my hands and knees, you would put the strap-on in my back door. But if I’m on my back…”
“I’d be in your…” I say as my dirty mind fills with that image.
“Yes, sir,” she responds.
“Great,” I grumble, reaching down to readjust my thickening cock. “How am I supposed to enjoy dinner if I’m hard through the entire meal?”
“I may be able to help with that. You’ve given me more than ten orgasms and lover amnesia after all,” Cynthia says with a sly grin that I don’t quite comprehend before she grabs my hand and leads me inside the restaurant. I would’ve preferred it if we make a pitstop in my Jeep first, but so be it. We can have some fun after I provide her with a damn good meal.
Right inside the door, the maître de is standing at a podium wearing a penguin suit and tie, making me feel underdressed. Well, fuck him. This is as dressed up as I get unless it’s a funeral. Then, I would wear a tie with my dress shirt and cut.
“Can I help you?” the prissy man asks with his elongated nose raised in the air.
“Yeah, we have reservations for two under Hunt,” I tell him. It’s stupid that they require reservations, especially on a Monday night when there’s hardly anyone here, but I did what was required.
“Right this way,” he says, giving my cut a twice over with a crinkle of his big nose while pulling out two menus. Oh, and they’re real fancy, gluing paper menus to wooden boards.
Cynthia gives me an amused look before she follows behind the maître d. He sits us at an enormous round table covered with a long white table cloth, but only two chairs. There’s enough room on the sides to pull up at least four more chairs. Cynthia and I will have to shout at each other across it to have a conversation.
“Do you have any tables that are…closer?” I ask him while glancing around the room where all the tables look alike.
“No,” he responds before placing our menus on the table and strolling off. “He’s friendly,” I say as I pull out the closest chair for Cynthia.
“Almost as friendly as you,” she chides as she sits.
“I hope you enjoy your meal,” I tell her and then point to the other side of the table. “Once I sit down over there, we won’t be able to talk again until it’s over.”
“We’ll be fine,” she assures me with a smile. As I start to walk away, she grabs my arm and says, “Actually, could you order for me? And water is fine to drink.”
“Yeah, sure,” I agree. “Are you going to the restroom?”
“No,” she says with her grin widening. “I just think it’s time I finally return the favor you gave me in the movie theater.”
“Okay?” I ask.
“Go on. Have a seat. Sit back and enjoy yourself,” she instructs with a wave of her hand. I can occasionally be an obedient boyfriend, so that’s what I do.
I’ve just gotten comfortable and reached for my menu when Cynthia opens up her utensils from the cloth napkin. I then watch her pick up the fork and then toss it to the floor.
“Oops, I’m so clumsy,” she says before she leans over the side of the chair...and disappears.
I tilt my head to the right to look for her and ask, “Everything okay down there?”
Instead of a verbal response, there’s a hand on my crotch, surprising me and causing one of my knees to slam up into the table so hard the place setting clatters loudly, drawing attention to our table.
Of course my first concern is that they’ll see Cynthia under the table unzipping my slacks, but the few patrons in the restaurant only give me a quick, annoyed glance before returning to their dinner and conversation. Glancing down at the side of the table, I realize that the cloth is so long it touches the carpet and is thick enough to hide her completely from view. Still, she can’t possibly be doing what I think she is.
“You don’t have to…” I whisper, or at least start to, until her hand wraps around my flesh and frees it from my pants. “Stop. Don’t stop,” I mutter and slouch a little further toward her in my seat, seeking her mouth out when her hot, wet tongue starts swirling around my swollen crown.
“Good evening,” a man says when he suddenly appears by my side. “Would you like to hear our specials?” he asks at the same time Cynthia coats the underside of my shaft with her tongue.
“God, yes,” I groan, surprised that I can be this turned on even while a man hovers over me. I couldn’t tell you what he looks like but he’s still there, talking, saying something about lobster and filet mignon while I’m reaching down to run my fingers through Cynthia’s hair as her head bobs, sucking the hell out of my cock.
“Does any of that sound good, sir?” the waiter asks.
“So good,” I groan with a nod of my head.
“Great. What can I bring you?” he asks just as Cynthia takes me down her throat…and swallows.
“Jesus, all of it?” I gasp in surprise because, good god, that should be impossible but she’s doing it. Her nose is pressed to my pelvis, and my entire cock is lodged in her throat. I’m about to explode from the way she’s applying so much of that wonderful, warm suction.
“All of it?” the waiter asks, sounding just as shocked as I am.
“Yes, fuck yes,” I groan as my head falls back and I hold Cynthia’s face to my body to keep her from pulling away as the pulses of pleasure take hold of me. I’m powerless to stop, and I wouldn’t even if I fucking could. Where we are no longer matters. It’s just me and my girl and the ecstasy nearly dragging me under the table with her.
Sex with Cynthia is fucking amazing, but this? It’s heaven on earth.
“Oh, yeah,” I moan, my eyelids fluttering closed as the last of the intense shudders pass through every inch of my body.
“I’ll, ah, get that right out for you,” the waiter says. I open my eyes and watch as he scurries away while Cynthia tucks my sated cock away and zips my pants back up.
A moment later, she pops back up in her seat, holding her fork in one hand and wiping her lips with the other. “Found it!” she says proudly.
“Yes, you did,” I agree from my still slouched position. It’s impossible for me to sit up straight at the moment with all my bones liquified. “And from now on, I’m calling you Cyn. You are a naughty girl, sunshine.”
She smiles at me and asks, “So, what’s for dinner?”
“No clue,” I respond with my own grin.
“There are those dimples again!” she says. “I’ve finally figured out how to make them appear.”
“Yeah, you have,” I agree.
…
Cynthia
“I hate to say this,” I start as I crawl up on Reece’s bed. “But I’m so full that I don’t think you’ll fit inside of me tonight.”
“No complaints here,” he says when he flops down on the bed beside me and rests one of his palms on his belly. “That was a lot of food and damn good too. Not as good as yours, but good.”
“Yes, it was,” I agree with a smile before a giggle slips out thinking about the huge table of food the waitstaff brought out because Reece ordered while I was giving him a blowjob.
“We’ll be eating leftovers for days,” he replies before he starts chuckling.
The two of us lie there, miserable from overeating and laughing for several minutes.
“You don’t have to take me out,” I tell Reece. “I could cook for you at my place or even here.”
“You really don’t mind cooking for me?” he turns his head toward me to ask.
“No, I love it,” I assure him. “Cooking is relaxing to me, although I hate cleanup.”
“I may be able to help with that. Washing dishes would be worth more of your home cooking.”
“Oh, and you haven’t had any of my desserts yet.”
&nbs
p; “You make desserts too?” he asks.
“Uh-huh. Not that I can think about it much now, as full as I am,” I say with a small groan. “But I’ve been told my pastries are better than my blowjobs.”
Reece is silent for several long moments, making me worry that I shouldn’t have said that. But eventually he speaks. “You ever considered combining the two in your store?”
“Huh?” I ask, certain I’ve misheard him.
“What if you made pastries naughty? You know, like an éclair that looks like a cock or donuts that are paired up like tits with icing for nipples?”
I blink at him in shock before I finally burst into a hysterical fit of body-shaking laughter.
“You think it’s stupid,” Reece grumbles once my amusement dies down to only a few soft giggles.
“No, I don’t,” I reply, swiping my fingers under each eye to wipe away the tears. “It’s an awesome idea. I just never would’ve expected it to be your idea.”
When a grunt from him is his only response, I know he’s still offended by me laughing at him.
“Would you eat…would you eat my penis éclairs and donut boobs?” I ask, trying to prevent more laughter from bubbling free.
Grumbling under his breath, Reece reaches over and pulls me to him. While I keep laughing into his chest, he says, “For you, I would eat penis éclairs.”
“Would you really?” I tease him with another giggle.
“I think I would do about damn near anything for you,” he says. “And I can’t get enough of this, lying here, laughing with you. Everyone’s always telling me to lighten up; and when we’re together, I feel…lighter. It’s nice.”
“Yeah, it is,” I respond with a smile. “And I really like the light side of you. I like the tough guy side too, though.”
“I want you here more often.”
“Okay,” I agree with a nod.
“I don’t just mean for visits,” Reece adds. “I want you to stay here with me so I can see you every morning and go to bed with you at night.”
