by Nikki Chase
Jacob grabs my foot, making me gasp in surprise. Looking right into my eyes, he takes my panties and puts my foot back down on the floor.
“So what's the information?” I ask impatiently. Maybe if I focus on something else the ache between my legs will go away on its own.
“Okay. Steven Gordon is an accountant who has lived in Ashbourne his whole life. He has visited San Francisco a few times. One of those times was for some guy's bachelor party. They went to the Pussy Cat. The guy seems harmless,” Jacob says.
“And?” I prompt Jacob to continue. That can’t be it.
“And what?”
“And what about Caine Foster?”
“Oh, right. That guy is more interesting. I’ll tell you all about him if you do something else for me.”
“What? I already did what you wanted me to do.” I would've screamed if we weren't in a fancy restaurant, but I don't want to attract any attention to us.
With the air currents teasing my naked pussy, I already feel like everyone knows my secret. I feel like everyone can tell that I’m not wearing any underwear and that I’d do anything the big man in front of me wants me to do, not because I don’t have a choice, but because it turns me on.
“Yes, you did good,” he says, like he's praising a dog for having done a trick. “But I never said I was going to tell you everything after the first task.”
“There's more than one? You're kidding me.” I can't decide if I’m angry or excited. The line is often blurred when it comes to Jacob.
“Calm down. There's only one other task.” Jacob speaks calmly, making it seem like I’m the one making a big deal out of nothing. “Besides, I can tell you like this. I know how wet you are. I have the proof right in my pocket.” He pauses and looks at me, his eyes telling me he's not going to be take no for an answer. “For now, just eat. Your food is getting cold. I’ll tell you what to do after the meal.”
I want to kick Jacob under the table, or even slap him in the face, but I do want to know what he knows. Besides, he's right. I'm still dripping between my legs. Following Jacob's orders just does it for me like nothing else.
We both eat in silence. The steak I ordered is perfectly tender and juicy, but I can't stop thinking about what Jacob has in store for me. We both eat quietly, the silence only occasionally broken by the waiter refilling our glasses of water. I feel tense, but Jacob looks like he’s enjoying this.
“Go to the restroom and wait for me there,” Jacob says as he wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin.
We're both done with the food. By this time, I’ve decided to do as Jacob says. I want the information and, to be perfectly honest, I want Jacob, too. So why fight it?
Without a word, I grab my purse and get up. A thrill runs down my spine when Jacob devours me with his eyes, tracing the curves of my body as I walk past him toward the restroom.
While waiting for Jacob in the spacious restroom, I freshen myself up. My heart is doing somersaults in my chest.
It's obvious to me what Jacob wants to do next. I’ve seen enough couples doing it in the restrooms at night clubs.
This place is no dumpy club restroom, though. This is a big, clean, fully enclosed, completely separate room with ambient lighting. To do it here at such a classy place seems perverse, but I can't deny the excitement I’m feeling.
It doesn't take long before I hear knocking on the solid wooden door. As soon as I open it, Jacob slips inside and pushes the door closed.
“Bend over,” Jacob says. His eyebrows are taut, his stare intense.
He looks at me like he's a predator about to devour me and, even though I should be running away from him as fast as I can, I find myself wanting to obey him instead, dying to sacrifice my body for him to use.
I guess this is not about the information anymore.
I face the mirror, the corner of the vanity counter cutting slightly into the top of my thighs, and bend forward. The polished granite feels cold through my dress.
I look over my shoulder to see if Jacob is pleased with what I’ve done for him. From the raging boner pressing against the back of my thigh, I assume he is.
“Good girl.” Jacob grabs my hair and makes me face the mirror. “Look at yourself. Pull your dress up and look at yourself while you're showing me your pussy.”
I glance at Jacob's reflection in the mirror, but he yanks my head painfully to force me to look at my own reflection.
I look like a woman in heat, with my eyelids heavy and my lips pouty. Is this what Jacob sees? It's no wonder he's so cocky around me. Jesus.
“I said pull your dress up.” Jacob says impatiently. “We don't have much time. If you take your time, I’ll have to punish you.”
“What do you--”
“Did I tell you to speak? And did I tell you to look at me?” Jacob pulls on my hair painfully.
I should be protesting, or at least asking him what he meant by punishing me, but instead I find my arousal building up. I reach back and hike my dress up until it bunches up around my waist.
“Good. Now spread your ass cheeks for me.”
I feel vulnerable. Tendrils of shame creep around me. But at the same time, I can't resist that drive within me that wants to surrender, to submit to Jacob’s demands. I reach back and pull my cheeks aside, giving Jacob full view of my most private bits.
“Open your mouth.” Jacob reaches into his pocket with his free hand, pulls out my panties—now crumpled into a ball—and stuffs them into my mouth. “You don't want anybody to hear, do you? It would be bad for your reputation. So here's something to help you. You can thank me later.”
He strokes my wet lower lips and I can’t help but press against his firm, skillful hand. I tremble with need, and realize he must feel the tremors. He smiles with satisfaction as he watches me. I’m used to having a big audience, but this private show makes me feel more alive somehow, more wild and dirty.
I hear the sound of his zipper and I know what's coming. Sure enough, soon the head of Jacob's hard cock pushes against my slit, his hand in my hair keeping me in place.
He pushes in, and all I can think of is how big he is. Everything about Jacob is larger than life. He’s stretching me so wide I feel like I’m about to burst.
“Look at yourself,” Jacob says as he pulls my hair so I look straight at my own reflection. “All dressed up like a lady, letting me fuck you in the restroom. And you're loving this. Don’t say that I made you do this because I can feel how much your pussy is clenching around me. I can see how soaking wet you are.”
I nod at Jacob's reflection. Trapping my gaze, he pulls out of me slowly and slides back in inch by inch, watching my reaction in the mirror.
“I’d love to play with you,” he says. “But we don't have much time.”
With that, Jacob stops messing around. Now he means business.
I’ve been dripping wet since the time we were still sitting at our table, so I can accommodate Jacob's impressive size without pain, but I’m nowhere close to an orgasm because we haven't spent much time on warming me up.
It makes me feel like we're only doing this for him, like I’m here bent over at my waist and spreading myself open with my own two hands, just to provide him with pleasure. This is not about me. As offensive as the idea should feel, it only makes me more eager to please him.
“Stay still, baby. Or else,” Jacob says with a hint of threat in his voice.
He grabs my waist and pulls me back while he slams into me. I yelp into my panties in surprise, my voice muffled by the cotton. But my hands keep pulling my ass cheeks apart, letting Jacob penetrate me hard and deep.
It feels freeing, in a way, to surrender myself to Jacob, to let him take pleasure from my body without me asking for anything in return. Jacob fucks me harder and harder, his grip on my waist tightening as his movements become more frantic. Just when I think I can't take it anymore, he shoots his load deep inside me, his face in the mirror contorted by pleasure.
I'm still not close to
coming. But that face… Oh, that face. It drives me wild. if he’d as much as touch my clit right now, I’d explode.
But this is still not about me.
Jacob tells me to wait for a minute before walking out to meet him outside. He slips out of me and out of the restroom quietly, just as quickly as he came in.
But who is this girl I see in the mirror? It's been so long I barely recognize her. Messy hair, flushed cheeks, plump red lips. The freshly fucked look.
I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot more of her as long as Jacob’s in town, and I don't completely hate the idea anymore.
Jacob
“So?” Jessica breaks the silence. I was wondering how long it would take her.
“So what?” I feign ignorance as I fix my eyes on the dark, empty road from Dewhurst to Ashbourne, my hands on the steering wheel of Jessica’s car.
Before we left Ashbourne, she had straight up refused to hop onto my Harley because she didn't want to mess up her dress and her hair. Me being the nice person that I am, I didn’t want to ruin all the hard work that she had put into dressing up tonight.
Besides, I was enjoying the view, too. Jessica is a beautiful woman even on a bad day. But on a night like this, she’s stunning. Literally head turning. No kidding, I saw quite a few men do a double take when she walked into the restaurant.
So I told her we could take the car, but only if I were the one driving. She said yes, of course, because she really wanted to know what I know.
She asks, “So what did you learn about Caine Foster?”
“He’s a big shot whose family used to own most of the illegal businesses in San Francisco. They're clean now, though.”
“That's it? I could've Googled that.” She plops her head back on the headrest of the passenger seat, disappointed.
“I’m not done,” I say. “He's been asking around about Nancy Jones. He even paid a visit to the Pussy Cat. That’s strange, because he's the kind of straight-laced guy who wouldn't normally make an appearance at a strip club. I still don't know how he's related to Nancy Jones, but there's definitely something there.”
“Is he dangerous?” Jessica stiffens in her seat. She’s been tense since she heard the name Nancy Jones.
I know the dead girl used to work at the strip club too, but who is she to Jessica, and what has Jessica done to make people come after her? I’ll find out sooner or later, but this is not the time.
“Not as far as I can tell. No record of him ever posing any real danger to anyone else,” I say. “But you have to remember something. You’ve probably already figured out that he's got a lot of money. A lot. Like, more than people like us can even comprehend. If he wants to, he can hide any information he wants hidden.”
“Yeah. You're right.” Jessica stares into the darkness outside the car, lost in her own dark thoughts.
Jessica had ignored me for three whole days after we’d fucked in the kitchen, except for greeting me ‘hello’ and opening the door for me. But when I told her I had some news, she jumped at the chance to learn more. I thought it would be fun for us to finally have a proper date.
I’ll admit it’s partly due to pettiness. Every night, when Jessica opens the door for me, I’m annoyed that fucking Tony has her keys, while I have to knock on the door. What else has he done with my girl that I haven't? I bet they haven't fucked in the restroom of Le Grande, that's for sure.
Jessica asks, “Do you think I should see him?”
“Absolutely not. It's not safe. You don't know what he wants. But I’d bet my left nut that he already knows everything about you. You’ve been ignoring his attempts at communication so far, which is the right move. Just keep doing that. Er, I mean, not doing that.” I grin at Jessica, but she doesn't find it funny. She looks worried, slumped in her seat while staring into the woods all around us.
“Oh, and another thing. Tony’s harmless too,” I say
It takes a while for Jessica to wake up from her daze and understand what I said. She turns her head around to face me in slow motion and frown. “You looked into Tony?”
“Yeah. Did you know he has kids?”
“What the… Of course I do! And I don't need you to tell me Tony’s harmless. He's my friend! Is this why it took you so long to come up with any news? Because you’ve been investigating Tony? For fuck’s sake,” she says.
‘Friend,’ huh? Interesting choice of words.
“Tony sounds nice.” I pause while I carefully phrase my next questions. “Are his kids as cute as they seem in the pictures? Are they well-behaved?”
“Yeah. They're good kids.”
Damn it. She has met Tony’s kids. I was hoping she wouldn’t even know they existed. She called him a friend and I assumed it's a casual relationship, but maybe they're closer than I thought.
“They must make it hard for you guys to see each other much,” I say.
“It's not a big deal. Most people I know are married with children.”
“Oh, Tony's married?” My eyes flick between the road and Jessica. This is unexpected.
“Well, technically not. But they’ve been together for so long they’re practically married. Why does it even matter to you?”
“I just didn't think a married man would have the freedom to have such a close friendship with you.”
“What are you ta…” Jessica's voice trails off as she puts her hands over her mouth like she's in shock. “Oh my God. Are you… Did you think… Are you jealous of Tony?” Jessica throws her head back and laughs. “Listen, Mr. Detective, Sir. Tony is a great guy, but he's super gay. I’m surprised you didn't find out about this in your investigation.”
“Well, I stopped investigating when I learned that he's harmless.” Or, to be precise, Matt did. If it were up to me, I would've learned all there is to know about The Guy With The Keys. The gay guy with the keys, as it turns out. But Jessica doesn't need to know that. I say, “Because all that matters is your safety. I’m just trying to make small talk, that's all.”
“Bullshit. You're jealous, admit it,” she says, teasing me. She thinks this is funny?
“Okay, Jessica. I'm jealous. I don't share my things. That includes you now. You're mine.”
“Really now?” She tilts her head. “I don't remember ever agreeing to anything like that.”
“You say that, but you know you're already mine. You crave my touch.” I slide one hand from Jessica's knee up her inner thigh and smile to myself when I hear her gasp. When she exhales, her breath is loud and heavy. With both hands back on the steering wheel, I add, “it's not a sign of weakness. You can't help it. Even if you say no, you know deep inside that you belong to me now.”
Jessica remains quiet. That's okay if she needs some time to process it. Soon, she'll see that I’m right.
Besides, now I know I’m the only one fucking her. Her luscious body is mine. All that honey between her legs belongs to me. Good.
It's just a matter of time until Jessica understands that. I have time. I’m not letting her out of my sight now.
She wants to give me the silent treatment? That's fine. We have the rest of our lives for conversation.
Jessica
“Hey, Jessica,” says someone behind me. The voice sounds familiar. I can't quite place it, but it makes me want to start running away and pretend I didn't hear anything.
“Oh, hi, Steve.” The worst Tinder date ever. I immediately regret my decision to obey social conventions and respond when someone calls my name.
“What a coincidence. I’ve been trying to reach you,” he says as he stands a little too close to me on the sidewalk, in front of the biggest grocery store in town.
I don't think it counts as a coincidence when everybody runs into everybody else all the time here, but okay. I muster up a smile and say, “Yeah, I’ve been really busy.”
“I need to talk to you about something. It's really important.” Steve drops his voice to a low, conspiratorial tone. What could he mean?
“I, uh, I should
run. I have a yoga class to catch.”
“Oh, at the Namaste Studio?”
“Yeah.” I frown. Jacob told me Steve's not dangerous, but I wonder how reliable Jacob's information is. Maybe Steve has been stalking me. “How did you know that?”
“Oh, I just dropped my mom off for the five o’clock class. The instructor’s late, by the way. Fifteen minutes. So you have no excuse.” Steve laughs nervously. “I was just sitting there in the cafe behind you when I saw you walk by. Come join me for a few minutes.”
“Oh, I don't know. I like to come early to class and reserve my spot on the floor,” I say.
“Not a problem. I’ll text my mom and ask her to save you a spot.” He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his undersized dress pants and starts typing. Without looking up, he says, “Like I said, you’ll regret not talking to me when you have the chance.”
Okay, I'm not imagining that, am I? That sounds more like he's threatening me, not asking me out on a second date. Maybe Jacob's wrong and Steve’s not harmless after all?
“Come on, we're losing precious time just standing here.” Steve pulls me inside the coffee shop with his clammy hand.
He's being pushy, like there's a lot at stake. This is not normal behavior for a guy who's asking a girl out after a mediocre first date. He could be just a creep, or he could be trying to blackmail me, thinking I’d do anything for him to not tell Stan about me. Either way, there's only one way to find out.
This coffee shop seems like as good a location as any to have a conversation. It's definitely public enough that someone would come to my rescue if I seemed to be in distress. I hope Jacob's right, I hope Steve is harmless.
“So, what's up, Steve?” I take a seat across the small table from him.
“How are you, Jessica?” Steve shifts in his chair. He looks nervous, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
“Good, Steve. How about yourself?” I smile, sitting on the edge of my seat, eager to find out what he has to say.
