Doggie Style
Page 14
“Promise,” I respond with determination and I lean down and place a chaste kiss on her lips.
“You may be the death of me.” She hits me playfully in the chest.
“That’ll make us even then. You break my dick and I’ll teach you how to enjoy the moment.”
She giggles, her free arm sliding across my stomach, giving me a squeeze. “You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood.”
“Just wait until the plane. I have an idea to help you get you nice and relaxed.”
She swats at my stomach and shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. Nope.”
I rest my finger under her chin and raise her head up until her eyes are on me again. “Yes, and you’ll love every second of it.”
“If we get caught…”
“We won’t.”
“Wait.” She sits up. “Have you done this before? I mean like… are you a frequent mile-high club member?” Her stern look makes me second-guess admitting that I have messed around on a plane before, though only one time and it was years ago.
“I told you, I’m a platinum member,” I say in jest, letting her draw her own conclusion.
Her eyes turn to slits and I laugh, pulling her into me once more. The smell of the hotel shampoo in her dark strands reminds me of her sucking me off in the shower. My dick starts to twitch and I shift in my seat.
“You’re way too high-strung. You need me around to get rid of all the tension,” I mumble against the top of her head.
“I can’t really complain.”
Just as we’re getting comfortable and the control freak side of Teegan is disappearing, the taxi pulls up to the airport. Her head pops up and she glances around like a hawk who just spotted a mouse in a field. She’s out of the cab before I can say anything.
“Round two,” I mumble, opening the door where my suitcase already sits and spot the back of Teegan walking through the doors to departures.
I pull my wallet from my back pocket, but the taxi driver waves me off. “The lady already paid.”
“Of course she did,” I say with a smile and grab my suitcase to follow behind my obsessive little control freak. Still, I wouldn’t change a thing.
20
Teegan
After takeoff, I open my eyes to find Leo’s gaze glued to the side of my face.
“You okay?” he asks, and I lift my head off the seat and take in a deep breath.
“Thank you.” He better be careful—a girl could get used to the princess treatment he gives me.
“It’s okay, I’m sure the circulation will come back.” I release his hand and he flexes it over and over again. “I’ll take it any day.”
The scary part is I believe him.
The flight attendant walks down the aisle, taking drink orders.
“Can we have a blanket?” Leo asks and her overly made-up eyes linger on us for a beat, but she nods.
“I get cold on planes,” I say.
The flight attendant purses her lips then nods again. “Sure thing, sweetie.” She reaches up in the overhead compartment and hands it to Leo.
“Thank you.”
I glance around the first-class area. The row next to us and in front of us is filled with businessmen, their laptops already out, hard alcohol drinks in their hands.
I guess you don’t get to afford first class because you watch movies and chomp down on the free snacks during the flight. Speaking of which, the man who can afford first class next to me seems much too concerned about the temperature of my body.
“You want anything else?” Leo asks.
I nod, a smile playing on my lips. “Are you setting me up?”
“No. I would never do anything you didn’t want me to.” He holds both hands up in the air. “Let’s watch a movie.” His iPad is propped up on the tray with ear buds plugged in. “We’ll have to get close to both listen.”
“Action flick?” I ask in a bored voice.
“I don’t have much of a collection of romantic comedies—”
My smile dips into a frown.
“—but lucky for you I think ahead.” He clicks play, moves up the armrest and I cuddle into the warmth of his body.
I wasn’t lying when I told the flight attendant I get cold.
I recognize the movie right away and I’m happy that it will keep my mind far from the thought that I’m racing through the air in a tin can miles above the earth.
The Wedding Singer begins playing and my head lands on Leo’s shoulder. One of his hands is on his soft drink and the other lies on the tray. I snuggle into him a little more, hoping that he’ll take the hint that I want him to touch me. But by the time we’re halfway through the movie—still nothing.
I arch my back and stretch, purposely letting the blanket fall from my chest, hoping the sight of my breasts will invite him to touch me.
Instead, he asks the flight attendant for a refill.
This is the modern world, right? Surely, I can make the first move. My hand slides along his jeans, and he shifts in his seat, his legs widening at first. An invitation, I presume. Traveling north, my hand skims along his thigh toward its final destination. He picks up his glass, placing it on my tray. Why didn’t I do this an hour ago?
He wiggles in his seat and I lick my lips in anticipation of touching him. I touch the bulge in his pants, but instead of leaning back and enjoying, he slides out of the seat.
“I’ll be right back.”
I watch him go to the bathroom and shut the door.
The businessman across the aisle glances over, a flirtatious smile on his face. Like he knows what I was doing. He doesn’t. But from his face you might think he does.
Maybe Leo’s expecting me to go to the bathroom with him, but surely I can’t just walk into the same lavatory with the man across from me watching. I might as well announce to the entire first class that I’m going to join the mile-high club.
My answer comes when Leo returns after only a few minutes. Guess that would be a no, he wasn’t waiting on me. He slides back into his seat, picking up his ear bud, and with a soft smile my way he presses the play button.
We sit in silence, hands in our laps for the rest of the movie. By the time it ends, the flight attendant is serving our lunch. And before I realize, the pilot is overhead announcing our descent into LAX. So much for joining the mile-high club.
We store our trays and the flight attendant takes our drinks away.
“Just relax,” Leo says and instead of taking my hand, his warm palm lands on my thigh under the blanket. But it stays there and doesn’t move.
His head is resting on the seat, his eyes closed. Everyone around us is in similar positions except for the one to our left—he’s looking out the window.
The plane dips and I startle, my hand locking Leo’s to my thigh.
He squeezes my flesh. “It’s okay. We’ll be on the ground soon.”
I mimic Leo’s position, closing my eyes and trying to relax.
The plane dips and I inhale a deep breath in a feeble attempt to calm the tension coursing through my body.
Leo’s hand starts moving up my thigh and he slides the closest he can get to me with the armrest between us. I slouch down and his fingers walk up my yoga pants, push past the elastic waistband and then move slowly down the outside of my panties. He teasingly runs his fingertips along the hem of my silk panties, then his hand rubs my entire pussy, but he’s careful not to graze my clit.
My stomach drops with the plane, and Leo uses more pressure, teasing me around the spot I need his touch the most. He slides his fingers inside my underwear and in a painfully slow pace he coats his fingers with my wetness, running up and down my pussy, sliding them easily from top to bottom.
My chest heaves for a solid breath and I slide down further in the seat, giving him ample room to get me off. In the gentle but firm circles around my clit, his thumb brings me to the edge faster than I would have expected. I bite down on my lower lip to prevent myself from crying out.
“Did you
think I wouldn’t do it?” he whispers, timing his words with the landing gear coming down.
I glance over to him, his eyes hooded with lust.
“I will pay you back for this,” I whisper.
“We’ll do a red-eye next time.” He winks and grins.
He inserts a finger, arching to hit my G-spot. The exact spot he found and mastered last night. My body arches, my breasts out for his taking. If only he could suck my nipples, I’d combust.
“Le—”
“Shh,” he whispers in my ear then nips on my earlobe. “You can scream my name later.”
He doesn’t stay long on my G spot, instead teasing me again with his finger running down my opening. Then he shifts in his seat, making like he’s looking out the window, and pushes two fingers inside of me, his thumb rubbing my clit like two people slow-dancing to romantic music. My thighs contract, locking his hand in place.
I’m close and he knows it, so his fingers work faster but not harder.
Just as the tires of the plane land on the runway, my body shudders, releasing all the pent-up tension from the past six hours. He slows his movements while I ride out my orgasm, his fingers moving out of me, his entire large hand rubbing my pussy up and down, eventually placing my panties back in place.
“Welcome home,” he says softly in my ear.
The plane skids to a stop and our bodies shift forward. He takes out his hand from under the blanket and then runs his fingers under his nose.
And just like that I’m ready for another round, my addiction to this man in full effect.
21
Leo
John is in the back doing the grooming today, so Oscar and I can go over the designs for the Hamilton show. Teegan is busy working on her computer, her feet propped up on the counter, tapping to the music playing over the speakers.
“You need to leave.” Oscar put his hands on his hip, staring right at Teegan.
“Me?” she asks, pointing to herself, forehead wrinkled.
“Yes, you.” He glances to me and then back to her. “He’ll get nothing done if you continue flirting with him.”
“I’m working.” She shuts her laptop, leaning forward. Her blouse dips open, granting me a glimpse at her pink bra pushing up the swell of her tits. Fuck me.
“You’re flashing him”—Oscar points and then turns away—“your lady parts.”
Teegan glances down and then shifts her blouse back in place.
“Don’t do that on my account,” I joke and she rolls her eyes in a playful way that has my hands begging me to throw her down and kiss her until she’s struggling for a breath.
“I’ll go for a walk a few stores down. Maybe pick up an ice cream cone and lick it real nice and slow.” She packs up her computer in her bag.
“Are you trying to get him to fuck you on the counter?” Oscar asks.
Teegan giggles and waves him off. “I’ll be back.”
Cooper picks up his head and then springs to his feet when Teegan puts on her light sweater.
“I think he wants to go with you.” I pet my four-legged friend. In the past two days, I’ve kept Cooper as far from Teegan as possible. I don’t allow him up on furniture, I’ve called him back when he’s gone to follow her to the bathroom. It’s clear she’s not comfortable with dogs, but Cooper is a big part of my life—hell, dogs in general are—so at some point she’s going to need to get more comfortable.
“I can’t take a dog to an ice cream shop.” She shoots over a winning smile.
“So you’re serious about the ice cream cone?” I lean back, crossing my arms across my chest, gazing at the piece of eye candy that’s now mine.
The lust in her eyes matches my own. “Dead serious.”
“Maybe you should practice, you know? I’d hate the ice cream cone to drip all over you.”
“You wouldn’t want to lick it off me?” She pretends to pout.
Oscar raises his hands. “I’m out. You two go home and fuck or something. Get it out of your systems. You’re both basically useless at this point.” He shakes his head, grabbing his stuff and walking out of the store without a backward glance.
I don’t stop him because I don’t really want to be working. Well, unless it’s working on getting Teegan off.
“What are you going to do now?” she asks.
I creep toward her, my eyes holding her gaze as I break the small distance between us. With my body pressing hers to the wall, my hand skates down her side, coming back up between her breasts.
“I like this button undone.” I flick open the button she just clasped to not flash Oscar.
“You’re trouble.” She doesn’t fight my advances.
“And you’re coming home with me.”
“You have a shop to run. Designs to design.”
“And a girlfriend to satisfy.”
“Well.” She tilts her head. “I don’t want to be needy or anything.”
I bend down to kiss her and the door chimes, announcing someone’s arrival. Teegan pushes me off of her and my back hits the edge of the counter on the other side.
“Son of a bitch.” I grab my back, but Teegan’s right there, her hand massaging.
“Sorry.”
“You do realize that as long as we’re not naked sprawled out on the counter, we can show affection when we’re here?”
She giggles and then she turns her head to see Jagger strolling in.
“And here Teegan thought it was someone important,” I say.
“We need to practice.” Jagger hops on the counter. “We have to start off strong.”
I roll my eyes.
“Practice?” Teegan asks and then I realize with all the time I’ve spent with her over the past few days, not much of it has been talking.
“We play on a softball team. Our first game is tonight.” I pull her body into me, her back to my front.
Jagger watches intently, but he remains uncharacteristically quiet. Must have learned his lesson from Vance.
“You should come. Vance is bringing Layla and the kids,” I say.
Teegan shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I’ve barely been home lately.”
Jagger’s eyes float to mine and then he hops off the counter. “I’ve got the equipment in the car. Let’s go.” He nods to the door, but this is the first I’ve heard of practicing and I was just about to hit a home run with Teegan before he barged in.
“I’m working,” I say.
He inspects the area and spots John in the back. “John can handle it.”
I don’t even mention that Helen, the new hire for afternoons, is due in ten minutes. That’d only give Jagger ammo. “I don’t need to practice,” I say. “I’ve been making my way around the bases for the past few days.”
Teegan’s elbow lands in my ribs.
Jagger coughs out a laugh. “Fine, but I’ll drop you from the lineup if you aren’t taking this serious. We have to beat Knobs and Knockers.”
“We’re not talking the World Series here.”
Teegan turns in my arms. “You should go. I have work to do anyway.”
I grab a hold of her hand on my chest, wanting to guide it south. It turns out my girl gives amazing hand jobs, too. “I should watch the store and watch you.”
“Is this why I saw Oscar dry-heaving before I came in?” Jagger pretends to cover his eyes. The pervy bastard would probably watch us if he could.
“Go. Really.” Teegan raises to her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.
“You really can’t come to the game?” I ask.
“I have a lot of work to do, but text me when and where and I’ll try.”
“If you don’t come, I’m heading to your house right after the game.”
Her lips upturn a bit and she plants another kiss to my cheek. “Have fun with your friends.”
“Yeah, Jimmy, go and play with your friends. When Mommy flicks the porch light on you have to come home.” Jagger gives his best female impression and I shoot him a look that hopefully says tha
t if he makes fun of my woman again, I’ll throat-punch him.
Teegan laughs at him, unaffected by his jabs. What a girl.
I catch her by surprise when I dip her, kissing her so thoroughly that she won’t forget me in the short time we’ll be apart.
“Man, I’m going to join Oscar out by the bush.” Jagger walks away. “You should come, Teeg, you can see who the real man is between us.”
The door chimes and Jagger’s gone, thank God.
“You could come to the field.” I give one last attempt.
“We’ll see.”
“I’m going to text you the address. Try really hard.”
“Promise me kisses like that and I will.”
I dip her again, but this time her back ends up on the counter and my hand is on her tit. Like I said, she’s edible and I can’t help but be a starving man around her.
Payne, our designated bat boy, grabs the bat Jagger dropped as he ran to first base. He stands there now, his fists pumping and arms moving like Rocky.
You’d think the guy never made a success of himself. He always has something to prove no matter what activity we’re doing.
“Let’s go, Leo.” Payne claps and cheers from next to Vance on the buckets.
Poor Vance got stuck being our captain, even though Jagger tried to mess with the votes. The man has a hard time letting his control go.
I look past the chain-link fence to the bleachers, but the brunette I’ve been waiting to see isn’t there. Instead, Layla sits there with her baseball hat low, her hair in a ponytail and Via on her lap. She’s lifting her arms up in the air in a cheering motion. The other wives and girlfriends line the aluminum seats, too.
I’m at the plate, and I take the first pitch, which turns out to be a strike.
“Swing the bat!” Jagger screams. If only I could hit a line drive right at first base, my night would be complete.
“Come on, Leo,” Payne cheers for me and I hear his small hands clapping.
The second pitch comes and I swing, this time missing the pitch.
“Strike two,” the umpire says and I step out of the batter’s box, shaking my head.