No Reservations

by Natalia Banks

  “I’m sure of one thing,” Griffin said. “After the rally, I’m marrying your daughter.”

  Lorraine gasped.

  “What?” Larry said in disbelief.

  Griffin turned to Lorraine. “I want to marry you, Lorraine. I want you to be my wife; I want you to help me raise Ashe, and to give him a kid brother or sister, maybe a few…as many as we want.”

  “Griffin?” Lorraine managed to stumble out.

  “Lorraine, you’re the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met. In the last few days I’ve watched you grow, develop, almost evolve.”

  She couldn’t help but smile, and she didn’t want to help it. “That’s thanks to you, Griffin.”

  “No, Lorraine, it’s not. I’m glad to be able to help, more glad than you’ll ever know. But it’s you, Lorraine, it’s always been you…and it always will be.” The breath leaked out of Lorraine’s lungs in a single gasp. “Lorraine Devonshire, will you be my wife?”

  Lorraine felt lightheaded, almost ready to pass out. “I-I can’t believe this is happening…of course! Yes!”

  They didn’t linger at the Devonshire home. They went directly to the downtown shopping district, and Lorraine was flushed with anticipation. It’s a ring, she told herself, he’s taking me ring shopping! I might have preferred if he just presented it, but I guess he’s got to get my size and everything. But who cares? We’re getting married! He asked, he actually asked!

  Missus Griffin Phoenix, whispered silently to herself, Mrs. Lorraine Devonshire Phoenix. Oh my God, I love it.

  But instead, Griffin walked her into a fine lingerie shop with gorgeous silk transparent robes specially draped around mannequins. She tried on several silk robes and matching corsets; immaculate and intricate stitching made the garment of a quality she would never consider purchasing on her own.

  Lorraine took a few more spins in the mirror, peeking out to show Griffin.

  “Thank you, Griffin, I’ve never bought anything like this for myself before.”

  “You deserve it, baby, you look stunning, and keep that corset on, but hand me the tags.” He winked.

  Lorraine agreed, putting her clothes on on top of her new subtle hourglass shape created by the tight fit of the corset. She loved the way it made her feel. She decided on a few more items; the thought of being able to parade around in them in front of her man suddenly excited her.

  “Hop in,” was all Griffin said. He pulled his Mercedes up to the local branch of the Chase Bank.

  “Griffin? Are you sure we should be—?”

  “We’re going to pull you all the way out of that shell, Lorraine.”

  “But—?”

  Griffin looked her dead in the eyes, voice low and cold. “Listen to me, Lorraine. You’ve been hiding too long. If you want to keep hiding, you’re going to do it in plain sight.”

  She wanted to ask what he had in mind, but in truth she already knew. He turned the key, stopping the engine. Without a word, he turned and started kissing Lorraine hard, his tongue aggressive and probing. His hands slipped into her coat, finding her breasts, nipples already hard. Her legs parted to allow him to massage her pussy, circular motions creating a stir of juices, frothing, percolating.

  Griffin’s index finger slipped in, curling backward as if he was signalling for Lorraine to come to him. She was already going to. Her hands found his muscular forearm, pushing against it but now wanting to push him away. She wanted to feel his strength; she wanted to fail to resist him.

  “These people know me, Griffin! They’re already gossiping about me, about us.”

  “And we’re going to let them know how much their gossip means to us. We’re going to show them how little good their small-town bullshit can really come to. We’re not the kind of people who cow-tow to people like that. I’m not, and you’re not either…not anymore.”

  Griffin returned to kissing Lorraine, and she eagerly responded. Having this gorgeous man all over her in public was making her hot and bothered, turning her on big-time. People walked past the car, and her imagination flashed on what they were thinking, if they could even recognize what was going on at all. She was sure they couldn’t see her fully, with the tinted windows, but even the possibility of being caught was turning her on big-time. The quiet little virgin from the library, wriggling naked in her open coat, exposed breasts in a Mercedes-Benz, a billionaire stirring another explosive orgasm within her, the like of which none of them ever experienced or ever would experience.

  Lorraine’s frenzied mind flashed, Is that what they’re thinking? Is that what they’ll see the next time they come to their local library? Good! Let them, let them wish they were me, young and pretty and the subject of this fine man’s fantasies! They’d kill to have this hot guy fingering them like this, for all to see! God, I’m cumming, so hot, so fucking hot, my hot cunt under his masterful hand…the finger, God that fucking finger, it’s talking to me, it’s…oh mmmmmmm…

  Lorraine shook, the sheer danger and crazy exposure making her tremble, her hot crotch leaking all over the silk lining of her coat. But Griffin didn’t mind; he loved it, his wriggling finger driving her up and over the edge, naked legs jutting driving her crazy.

  His hand slid down her slick, naked thigh, his face buried in the nape of her neck before he pulled back; their eyes locked. “Okay,” he said, “let’s go.”

  Lorraine barely managed to ask, “Where?”

  He smiled. “Inside.”

  Lorraine could hardly stand, leaning against him, her hands clutching her long cashmere coat, one of the only splurges she’d ever made. It was perfectly tailored to her body, and in near perfect condition when Jeremy spotted it at a local thrift shop.

  Her naked body was slick with sweat beneath it. Griffin was perfectly calm and professional, dignified, and he knew his composure was driving Lorraine out of her mind.

  “Yes, a safety deposit box,” Griffin said calmly to the teller—a woman he’d never seen before. But Lorraine had seen her every month for the past ten years. And the look on her face was priceless: eyes shifting, lips curling, struggling to fashion a smile.

  The teller glanced at Griffin’s empty hands and asked, “And what did you need to secure?”

  But Griffin didn’t miss a beat. “My privacy,” was all he said, his voice low and stern, and old Mrs. Atterly got the message. She backed away and, five minutes later, she escorted Lorraine and Griffin into the secured vault, offering them all the time and privacy they needed.

  She knew to be absolutely quiet. The vault door wasn’t entirely closed, and though they were out of sight of prying eyes, prying ears were something else. Griffin sat Lorraine onto the large table in the center of the room, drawers of security boxes on both sides of them. He let his slacks fall to the floor, his huge cock already hard, reaching out to her. Lorraine parted her legs, eager to take him in. And Griffin knew this was no time for a long, slow introduction. Anyone in that bank could walk in on them, and the reverberations of that event would ripple through Denver and back again, enough to drown Lorraine in public shame, probably her parents as well.

  But that huge cock was almost too much to take in, and Lorraine’s gasp welled up in her throat, stopping against her clenched muscles. Griffin was merciful, raking it in and out but only the first few inches. Lorraine’s tight little body wrapped around it, clenching, barely able to take it in.

  But Griffin’s steady grind brought out Lorraine’s natural juices even more than before, their mutual heat rising up and filling the chamber created by that sumptuous fur coat. The collar rose up around her, smooth against her cheeks, surrounding her in luxury, enveloping her, swallowing her in elegance and decadence.

  He pushed in deeper, the pressure and pain enough to push a joyous gasp out of her mouth. But she suppressed it, pressing her lips together, the wheeze rushing out of her nose as her body shook with the effort to remain silent, if not still. Her bare hips pushed against Griffin’s probing prick, arhythmic and chaotic and yet perfectly timed
, a rousing meeting of meat and heat, sweat slick and sensual.

  “Nice and quiet,” Griffin whispered, “they’re just outside, Lorraine; they’re only a few feet away.”

  A desperate sob pushed up against the back of Lorraine’s throat, rising up into her brain for lack of any other release. Her ears were ringing with her own suppressed scream, leaking out through her gritted teeth.

  “Shshshshshsh, little angel, my quiet little muse, you sweet pretty thing, you tight little treasure; God I love fucking you! And you want it, you need it, you can’t live without my cock inside you. You can feel it right now, every little movement, every shift, every inch. Clamp down on it with that pretty pussy, gimme all your strength, all that new power. You’ve held it in for so long; you fought that animal inside you, screaming to get out, you secret sexy little slut! Now you know how hard it is to hold it in, to keep that raging tide of cum inside you. Don’t you do it, Lorraine, don’t you make a single sound.”

  Griffin started a faster rotation, in and out in countless strokes, Lorraine gyrating her hips to match him stroke for stroke.

  He whispered, “You think they’ll catch us? You know they know, you know they’re staying away, but they know I’m fucking you right now, baby, right now!”

  She wanted to cry out, Yes, they know and I fucking want them to know! But she didn’t dare utter a word. She knew that once she started she’d never be able to stop.

  Lorraine’s orgasm came upon her quickly—a continuation of the brew she’d begun in the car, but it was seizing her now, pulsing, gushing. It shook her body, inspiring another loud call. But biting back on her groan only pushed the pressure back down into her body, loins already compressed. The pressure went up and then down again, finding no escape. Every orifice was sealed, all that power pouring into her with nowhere to go, no way to release all that lust.

  I can’t take it, I can’t… Jesus God I can’t…I-I can’t…

  Griffin pulled Lorraine even closer, sinking in deeper and harder and Lorraine could no longer restrain herself. She pushed her head into his chest, pressing her face against his silk shirt, his thick muscles flexing behind it. She screamed—a raspy convulsion—more animal than human, pouring out of her and into the muffling confines of his athletic chest. Her muffled cry mixed with his pounding heartbeat, as his own orgasm launched down from his cock.

  Lorraine relished the heat inside her, the power of his package as it was pouring into her. More pressure overwhelmed her, from beneath and above and in front. She bit down into Griffin’s pecs, and she knew she was hurting him. But she didn’t care and neither did he, both eagerly stumbling past the point of no return. His big hand found the back of Lorraine’s head, pushing her into him, embracing the pain of her bite as her strength subsided, her body releasing its tension and melting into a numbness she couldn’t resist, exhaustion and exhilaration overtaking her.

  They cuddled, nuzzling, wordless in the heated chamber of their passion. After ten minutes, Lorraine felt that she had the strength to stand on her own, and five minutes after that she let Griffin calmly lead her out of the bank, all eyes falling on them.

  Chapter 14

  “I dunno, Ashe,” Lorraine said, her eyes on the laptop monitor, Ashe’s words spread across the white digital sheet of paper. “The rally’s tomorrow; I’m not sure I can remember all this.” Ashe glanced at the screen and shrugged, to which Lorraine said, “That’s true, but I don’t wanna read from a sheet of paper, it just feels…forced, y’know?” He nodded, turning his attention back to the computer.

  “You won’t be mad if I just kind of wing it?” Ashe smiled and shook his head, and Lorraine gave him a little kiss on the forehead.

  Griffin was reading through his own speech, printed on a single sheet of paper in his right hand. “This is great work though, Ashe, really.” Griffin stepped over Ashe to put a loving hand on his cheek. Ashe looked up at his father, Griffin looked down, and the silent love that passed between them was palpable.

  Lorraine only hoped they couldn’t see her staring so adoringly at them.

  Missus B. stepped into the living room from her little bedroom down the hall. “Excuse me, Mr. Phoenix,” she said, very timid and sweet. “May we three have a moment…in private?”

  Griffin and Lorraine glanced at one another before Griffin said, “Why not take your laptop into your room, Ashe? I’ll have a look in a few minutes.” Ashe looked at him, then at both Mrs. B. and Lorraine. He sensed what Lorraine did, that something was wrong, that something very bad was going to happen.

  Ashe scooped up his laptop, pausing to give Lorraine an additional little glance, hope and sadness competing for control of his expression. But she offered him a reassuring smile, brushing his hair back and whispering, “Go on, we’ll see you soon.”

  Ashe slumped off with the laptop under his arm, the three adults watching him go.

  Griffin turned to Mrs. B. “What can we do for you?”

  “Well, Mr. Phoenix, it’s…it’s my broach, it’s gone missing. You know the one, the ruby. It was a gift from you, Mr. Phoenix.”

  “I remember it,” Griffin said, “your birthstone.”

  “That’s right, Mr. Phoenix. You’re so kind and considerate to remember me that way.”

  “All right, well, have you looked through your bedroom?”

  “I have, sir, yes, all my luggage too. And it had a safety latch, sir, you remember? It wouldn’t have just fallen off.”

  Lorraine’s eyes shifted from Mrs. B. to Griffin. It was quickly becoming clear what was unfolding in that room, but Lorraine was taken completely off-guard and she had no idea what to do other than stand there and let it happen.

  Griffin seemed to be coming to the same ugly conclusions. “What are you saying, Mrs. B.?”

  “Well, sir, I-I recall how our lovely Miss Devonshire here admired it. And unlike us, she… Well, we’re not all so fortunate as I am, or as successful as you are, sir.”

  Taken aback, Lorraine said in shock, “You’re saying what, that I took your broach?”

  Griffin said, “Missus B., Lorraine and I are going to be married. She’d hardly have need to steal your broach.”

  “With all due respect, sir, things have happened quickly this week. Maybe earlier on she felt it wise to ensure that she’d…come out ahead, sir.”

  Lorraine repeated, “Come out ahead? How dare you? I’m not here to profit in any way; I never was! This whole thing was Griffin’s idea!”

  “Just as everyone is saying, dear.”

  Griffin took a step forward, creating a wall between Lorraine and Mrs. B. “Okay, look, this is pointless. I’ll get you a new broach, Mrs. B.”

  “It’s not just about that,” Mrs. B. said. “Shouldn’t we know for certain what kind of person is coming back to New York with us…if she is?”

  “You don’t like me,” Lorraine stated, “you never have, you probably never will. What on Earth could I say or do—?”

  “It could still be in your purse.” Lorraine stood stunned, Griffin watching quietly as Mrs. B. reasoned aloud, “You’ve been with us several days straight, it seems to me.”

  “I’ve been in and out, Mrs. B. I could have dropped your stolen booty at my apartment, somewhere in the library—”

  “Just let me take a look in your purse,” Mrs. B. said. “If it’s not there, I’ll drop the entire matter.”

  But Lorraine could already guess what they’d find in her purse. But she had little choice; at that point Mrs. B. was getting into that purse one way or the other. The stronger Lorraine fought against it, the more guilty she would seem and the sooner the contents of that purse would get spread out over the coffee table.

  “All right, fine.” Lorraine crossed the living room to where her purse sat near the chair. She’d been in and out of it several times over the previous few days and was confident about what was in it.

  She handed Mrs. B. the purse. The old woman took the purse to the coffee table. One by one, she pulled items out o
f the purse: Lorraine’s wallet, keys, a compact, some lipstick and eyeliner, her smartphone.

  Lorraine turned to Griffin. “See? Griffin, I never would have done such a thing.”

  “I know that, Lorraine.”

  But Mrs. B. dug deeper. “Wait, there’s a pocket on the side.” With a sad little smile, she pulled out a white handkerchief folded neatly in a square. Lorraine’s stomach sank as Mrs. B. unfolded the handkerchief to reveal her ruby broach. Her gray eyebrows arched up into her furrowed old brow. “Oh, dear…”

  Lorraine stammered, “I… Griffin, I didn’t do it! She must have put it there, framing me. She’s hated me from the start, Griffin! This is an obvious setup!”

  Missus B. just shook her head. “I’m so sorry, dear.” But Lorraine could see through her bittersweet facade to the true malice of her unspoken gloating. With every shake of her little graying head, Mrs. B. was really saying, I win, you lose. Now go to hell, bitch!

  “Let’s check it for prints,” Lorraine said quickly, noting the desperation in her own voice. “You won’t find mine, not on the broach, the napkin, none of it.”

  Griffin let out a long disappointed sigh and turned to Mrs. B. “How could you stoop to such a thing, Mrs. B.?”

  “I… No, I didn’t, sir. She’s the one you can’t trust. I’ve been with you for two years—”

  “And that’s what makes this all the more troubling. I let you look after my son, and this is the kind of thing you’re willing to stoop to?”

  “Mister Phoenix, please!”

  “I’m sorry, Marion Beemish—”

  “No, sir, please—”

  “But your services will no longer be required.”

  Missus B. looked at him, then at Lorraine. Lorraine took no joy in it, but she couldn’t deny the relief that was coursing through her. Missus B. said, “I-I’m alone here, we took the private jet out from New York.”

  “There’ll be a first class ticket for you with United, and a generous severance…considering the circumstances, of course.” Missus B. slumped, setting down the purse and shuffling back toward her room. “We’ll have your luggage sent down to the lobby,” Griffin added, “and have a car take you to the airport.”