by Roxy Sloane
“What about your family?” I try. “Are they still in LA?”
I know right away I’ve said the wrong thing. Vaughn visibly hardens, a flicker of something dark racing across his face.
“Can I tell you about our specials?” We’re interrupted by our waiter.
I let out a sigh of relief as Vaughn turns away. I’ve barely looked at the menu, but it doesn’t matter. Vaughn orders for the both of us without asking: a seafood starter, and the steak as a main course.
“What would you have done if I was a vegetarian?” I ask, when the waiter leaves.
Vaughn cocks his eyebrow with a suggestive smirk. “Baby, I know you eat meat.”
I laugh. “Maybe I’m just picky.”
“Then I consider myself a lucky man.” Vaughn is leaning back in his seat, at ease again, but I can’t stop myself dragging the conversation back to him, and all the things I don’t know.
“Where did you grow up?” I ask.
He sighs. “On the east coast. One brother. Dead father. Mom prays for my soul every Sunday in church. Is that enough information for you?”
He gulps his champagne, draining the glass, then pours another.
I feel a stab of guilt.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have pried. My parents are dead too,” I add. “It was a car crash, when I was eighteen.”
Vaughn looks up. For a moment, his scowl softens. “That’s tough. My dad blew his brains out when I was eight years old.”
I gasp.
“Don’t.” He stops me before I can say anything else. “It’s ancient history. And we’ve wasted long enough talking about it. No more.”
Regret takes over. I should have known there was a reason he didn’t want to talk about himself. I just wanted to get closer to him, to know who he is and what makes him tick. But I had to push him -- too far.
9
VAUGHN
Dammit, she had to go digging. She couldn’t just let it slide.
I clench my fist under the table, fighting to keep back the suddenly flash of memory.
A half-open door. An unfamiliar pool of red. A young boy who didn’t even realize what he was seeing, not at first.
And then nothing but the gates of hell.
“Vaughn?”
Keely’s whisper breaks me out of the past. She’s staring at me across the table, wide-eyed with clear concern. For a reckless moment, I think about telling her everything.
She sees through me. She would understand.
In a way, she’s just like me.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her abruptly, leaving the table and striding back towards the restrooms. I don’t go in, I just pace in the hallway, hating the way my heart is pounding.
The damn weakness that pulls me under, every time.
What the fuck are you thinking? Get a fucking grip.
I take a few sharp breaths. Better. It’s been a long time since I let myself revisit the past, but with the Ashcroft shit bringing everything to the surface, the demons have been knocking louder every day.
That bastard tore my family apart, and even now, twenty years later, I’m still dealing with the wreckage he left behind.
“Mr. Vaughn?”
A breathy voice comes from behind me.
I turn. It’s the hostess, the brunette with an epic rack poured into a skintight dress. Now, there’s a distraction. She’s got legs I can already picture wrapped around my neck, and a mouth made to suck my dick.
“Is everything alright?” she coos, licking her lips. She sidles closer, pressing her breasts against my arm. “I thought I told you, I can help you. Whatever you need.”
She couldn’t be more blatant if she ripped off all her clothes and spread her legs right here against the wall.
But I’m surprised to find my cock doesn’t stir at the invitation. She’s way too obvious. No mystery. No challenge. She’d be on her knees in a heartbeat, and not because she likes the surrender. Because she’s too fucking dumb to even think of resisting me.
Not like Keely.
“I need you to put that shit away and get us some water refills,” I tell her curtly. Shock crashes over her face, but I don’t stick around to see. I head back to my table, determination growing.
There’s one thing that will wipe away the past right now, and it’s the girl sitting right there waiting for me. Sipping her champagne, nervously fidgeting with her napkin.
Asking for trouble.
I’ve humored her attempts to get to know me for long enough. I’m not going to waste a damn fine evening on chit-chat and useless bullshit.
Not when I have dirtier things in mind.
“Miss me, baby?” I reach the table. Instead of sitting back down, I grab her face and tilt it up to me, claiming her mouth with a hard, deep kiss.
Releasing her, I take my seat, watching her reaction with pleasure. She’s breathing fast, her pupils dilated.
Damn right, you missed me.
“I didn’t tell you before, you look beautiful in that dress.” I take a drink of champagne. “Every guy in this place is wishing he was at this table right now.”
Keely raises an eyebrow. Damn. Any other woman would be swooning right now over that bullshit line, but not this one.
She’s too smart for that.
“Thank you,” she says.
I lean closer.
“What color are your panties?”
Instead of looking shocked, she laughs. “Black.” Keely gives me a flirty little smile. “To match my garters”
My cock leaps. Damn.
I reach under the long tablecloth, and slip a hand up her soft thigh until I hit the lacy band. ”Good girl,” I tell her, already picturing what I’m going to do with them. Bind her hands behind her back and fuck her brains out, for starters.
I reach higher. She pushes my hand away. “Oh no, you don’t.” Keely sips champagne, her eyes sparkling. “We have a deal. You’re not doing anything like that until dinner is over.”
Her voice is flirty. Teasing. She thinks she’s got the upper hand.
Big mistake.
“You’re right.” I sit back, placing both my hands on the table. “I’m not going to touch you.
You’re going to touch yourself.”
10
KEELY
I choke on my champagne.
“What?” I gasp, not believing what he just said. “No. You’re insane.”
Vaughn just watches me with that sexy, blue-eyed stare. “The tablecloth will hide everything.” He smirks a teasing grin. “Nobody’s going to know.”
I can’t believe he’s even suggesting it. He’s tempted me into doing some filthy things before, but that’s always been just the two of us. Even when he went down on me in the library at the office, we were hidden from view. Out of sight and all alone.
But here...?
I look around. We’re on the edge of the packed courtyard, with the nearest tables surrounding us just a few feet away. There’s a steady buzz of activity: new diners being seated, wait staff bringing food and drink. This is a place to see and be seen, and half the people here aren’t even paying attention to their own dining companions, they’re all too busy scanning the room for some kind of gossip or stars.
I feel myself blushing hot. I don’t want to back down from the challenge, but this is wild, even for him.
Vaughn leans forwards. “Think about it,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low. “Your fingers sliding against your clit, stroking over and over until you can’t stop. Plunging deep into that juicy cunt.”
My pulse kicks, and I feel a rush of damp between my thighs. The white linen tablecloth drapes to the ground, covering my lap. My right side is fully exposed to the courtyard, but on my left is an ivy-covered wall, strung with tiny lights. If I was careful and discreet...
Vaughn gives me a smoldering grin. “You want to. You’re already wet for me, I can see it written all over your pretty face. So do it, baby, go right ahe
ad. Come your brains out in front of everyone.” He winks. “I promise I won’t tell.”
I flush, but I don’t back down. He keeps thinking he can shock me, that I’ll meekly follow whatever he says. Well maybe this time I’ll be the one to shock him.
“Are you sure you can keep your hands to yourself?” I ask, teasing.
“Only if you do the work for me,” he replies.
I bite my lip, feeling a rush of anticipation. Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening – and that I feel so sexy.
I slide my hand under the tablecloth, moving my napkin in my lap so it’s hidden from view under the table.
I raise my eyebrow at Vaughn. Your move.
“Pull your dress up,” he commands softly.
He’s taking control. I called his bluff, but he is calling mine.
I like it.
I tug my skirt higher, until my fingers touch my bare thigh.
Oh God, I’m really doing this.
“How does your skin feel?” Vaughn whispers, his voice a whiskey drawl. “Stroke it, soft the way you like.”
I dance my fingertips lightly over my skin. The sensation shivers through me, so wrong to be doing this in front of everyone. I’m certain my desire is written all over my face, that anyone looking over could know in an instant what I’m doing down there.
But still, I can’t stop.
“Now go higher,” Vaughn orders me softly. “Stroke yourself through your panties.”
Lust overwhelms my body. My breath quickens with anticipation. I slowly creep my hand higher, until it’s nestled between my thighs. Vaughn is watching, enrapt.
Reaching in, I stroke my index finger around my clit, swollen and aching behind the scratchy lace of my underwear.
Oh God.
It feels so good. I stroke again, and this time, I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning.
Vaughn licks his lips, a glazed look in his eyes. “Are you wet?” He asks softly.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I’m so freaking turned on right now. I’m soaked through my panties, my nipples straining at my dress.
And five feet away, a couple is eating their dinner, completely oblivious to the wicked things I’m doing, right under their noses.
“Yes, Keely.” Vaughn’s voice is rougher now, hoarse. “Keep stroking. Harder.”
I do as he says, applying more pressure to the tight knot of nerves. Pleasure races through my bloodstream, heat suffusing my whole body.
“Now slide your hand under your panties,” Vaughn orders me. “Feel how wet you are.”
I’m so conflicted to be doing this right now -- feeling so damn good, even though it’s bad. But I can’t stop. I push my underwear aside and slide my fingers underneath them, cool against my hot, slick flesh.
I’m wet. I’m aching.
“That’s right,” Vaughn murmurs. “You want me so bad, don’t you? You want my hands right there touching you. My fingers fucking your dripping cunt.”
I shudder against my hand. I do, I want him so much. My rubbing isn’t enough, I need more. Possessed by lust, I angle my hand down, pressing my palm against my clit as I slide a finger inside my pussy.
God, yes. Right there.
“How are we doing this evening?”
A voice shatters my daze. It’s the waiter, bringing our food.
Shit.
I freeze, guilty. I have my left hand trapped between my thighs, one finger curled up inside me.
Shit, shit, shit.
“We’re doing great.” Vaughn smiles broadly. “Thanks. This looks great. Don’t you think, Keely?”
I murmur a weak response, flushing hot. I’m certain he can see what I’m doing. It must be written all over my face, but the waiter seems oblivious. He deposits our plates and then hovers by the table.
“Can I bring you anything else?”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” Vaughn pretends to think. His eyes glitter with wicked mischief. “Keely, do you need a hand with that?”
He’s enjoying this. The bastard.
“No, thank you.” I manage to reply. “I’m good.”
“We’ll let you know.” Vaughn dismisses the waiter. When he’s gone, I start to withdraw my hand, but Vaughn stops me with a commanding look.
“Don’t even think about it.”
I pause.
“You’re not stopping until you come,” he continues, and it’s clear, this time it’s an order. “Not until that pussy is clenching around your fingers, hot and dripping, and you have you bite your tongue to keep from screaming.”
I’m stifling a scream already. This is so mind-blowingly hot.
He picks up his knife and fork, and slices into his steak. “Well?” He raises an eyebrow, teasing me. “What are you waiting for? You better make it fast, your food is getting cold.”
11
VAUGHN
I lounge back in my seat and take a bite of my steak. It’s rare and tender, fucking delicious.
Just like Keely’s pussy right now, I’ll bet.
“Fuck the food,” Keely says, breathing fast. Her face is flushed. “Let’s go, right now. Your place.”
I pause, torn between watching her come her brains out for me right here, or claiming that tight cunt once and for all.
My balls tighten, imagining her dripping pussy my cock plunging all the way to the fucking hilt. I already know how tight she is, how perfect and sweet, and now she’ll be aching for me, desperate for every thick inch.
But that can wait. I’m not going to rush our pleasure. Not when it’s too much fun driving her wild right now, this sexy game we’re playing. I never thought she’d go this far, and I won’t be the one to back down.
“No deal,” I tell her. I slice off another piece of meat and chew, savoring the rich flavor -- and the epic climax she’s about to unleash. “I want to see if you can keep it together when you come.”
Keely inhales sharply and gives me a look, like my challenge is accepted.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she purrs. “You’re the one who’s going to be finding it hard to keep your hands off me. Very hard.” Her arm begins to move again. Such a slight motion, but I know exactly what it means. She’s getting herself off, rubbing furiously at that slick nub, imagining my thick fingers driving deep inside.
Fuck, that’s hot.
“I’m so wet,” she whispers, a gleam in her eyes. “I want you inside me.”
My hard-on grows to epic proportions under the table. Damn.
But two can play at that game.
“Put your fingers up that sweet, wet pussy,” I order her in a low voice. “Now rub your clit. Can you feel that, baby? Harder now, I know you like it rough.”
I watch her, our eyes locked in a private battle. She lets out a low moan and it makes me want to shove the plates to the floor and bury my cock in that gasping mouth.
“I’m aching for you,” she whimpers. “I need your fingers here, filling me up. Your cock in my mouth…”
Oh hell. I grip the table hard to keep from reaching for her. She looks so ready to be fucked: her cheeks are bright red, her tight nipples straining against her dress. She’s in a secret frenzy, desperate for release, but not able to push herself over the edge.
“You’re close, baby. I can see it.” I fight to keep control. “It’s written all over your face. But you made the rules, remember? You’re the one who said no touching during dinner.”
She whimpers.
I catch sight of the hostess across the courtyard. I beckon her over to us. Time to make things interesting.
“Yes, Mr. Vaughn?” The hostess arrives. Keely’s eyes flare with shock, her mouth falls open.
“I have a question,” I begin, keeping one eye on Keely and her jerking hand.
“What do you need?” the hostess asks me eagerly, leaning in to show off her rack. I ignore it.
“My friend here was wondering, where did you get that dress? You wanted to know, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
>
I look at Keely, and the hostess turns too.
Keely’s reeks of sex, anyone with half a brain could take one look and know what she’s doing there under the tablecloth.
She’s lucky our hostess is so fucking dumb.
“Don’t be shy, baby,” I add, pushing it. “You know you want it.”
Keely pupils are dilated, the skin on her chest mottled red. She looks like she’s about to come her brains out. Which is exactly what I want.
“It’s Versace,” the hostess tells her, oblivious. “From a store on Robertson.”
I feel a kick under the table. Keely glares at me, trying to keep her cool. But she can’t act for shit, her lust is written clear on her face.
Fine.
I relent, turning on my charm. “It fits you perfectly,” I say, and the hostess snaps her head around, focused on me again. I give her a flirty grin, glancing past her in time to see Keely gripping the lip of the table with one hand, her knuckles turning white as her eyes roll back in her head. She climaxes with a delicious shudder, jerking hard enough against the table to send her water glass crashing to the ground.
The hostess leaps back.
“I’m so sorry,” I say smoothly. “Why don’t you send someone to wipe that up?”
The hostess leaves us. Keely recovers, breathing hard.
“You alright there?” I ask, smirking. Victory is sweet.
She giggles. “You think you won, don’t you?”
I pause. “In case you didn’t notice, you just came.”
“I know.” She slides her hand out from under the table. It’s glistening, slick with her juices. She slides one finger between her lips and sucks.
Fuck. My hard-on rages, fucking agony.
“I came, not you,” she murmurs with a wicked smile. “You’re still stiff as a fucking board, aching to be inside me. I’d say that’s a point to me.”
Damn, this girl has balls. I narrow my eyes, wanting her even more. “One point, maybe. But I’m going to take the game, set, and fucking match. Just you wait.”
12
KEELY
I barely say a word for the drive home, my body still reeling with pleasure from the crazy intense orgasm I just had.
