by Abigail Grey
Their conversation had been light and quiet. Minor questions about where she’d worked and had moved from seemed partnered with an increasing tension in him. She had noted then that his fingers seemed restless, constantly moving where they’d lay on his knees. She had been fascinated by those hands, with the long fingers and wide palms. At the time, all the happy chemicals in her brain had envisioned those hands against her body. She had imagined being pinned under him, in front of the crowd that was slowly dissipating. Her lips had parted, her tongue running along them as her mouth went dry at the thought of him turning her cheek to the carpet and taking her from behind.
His sound had surprised her, a seeming mix of impatience and tense frustration. Her hand looked so small on his knee when she had laid it on his knee in apology for her wandering thoughts. Her nerves had thrilled at the velvet softness of his pants. Their gaze had met for the first moment since their introduction, and the intention in his eyes had captivated her.
She should really hate David for interrupting at that moment. If he hadn’t, she truly believed she would have climbed directly into Aaron’s lap and attacked those lips with her own. She would have gripped either side of his jaw, feeding hungrily from the energy she’d seen in his eyes. She wondered again if he would be gentle, tracing her skin fleetingly, or if he would have crushed her to him with a punishing grip on her hips. Normally Marcy was not comfortable with public nudity, but she could not say that she would have stopped him from dragging the dress off her and penetrating the warm wetness of her pussy right there on the floor.
On second thought, perhaps she should thank David for having interrupted at that exact moment.
Marcy sighed, abandoning the memory for the night as she shed her professional clothes and slipped into her well-worn sleep shirt. As she turned down the covers on her bed, a blinking of light caught her attention. Climbing into her bedsheets, she lifted her phone to check the notification.
Thanks again for the date. I was glad we could see each other.
Marcy gasped before smiling widely, nearly giddy with the knowledge that he had been thinking of her as well.
She typed back to him, snuggling into her plush pillows and cool sheets.
I should be thanking you for dinner. And I’m glad our schedules finally allowed for it. You’ve been busy.
Marcy included a silly emoticon, indicating her teasing tone.
I’ve been busy? He shot it back quickly. *I’ve* been busy? Says the girl who had work and meetings and book club and—what was the other thing?
Jen.
Oh, right. Dinner at their place.
David insisted.
I would have, too. It’s important to check in after intense play. If he hadn’t, I would have been forced to remind him—or just take you out myself a little sooner than we did.
Marcy smiled, appreciating his understanding of David’s intention.
I think I would have been okay with that.
Good to know. We’ll have to do it again, but sooner this time.
I would like that. Marcy thought quickly. What are you doing this weekend?
She waited a bit breathlessly as his response seemed to drag. Her cell phone indicated one minute passing when his other responses had been immediate. Two minutes passed. Three minutes. She didn’t want to look away from it. The buzz thrilled her when it came.
This weekend, as in two days from now? I don’t have any plans for Sunday, but I have family stuff on Saturday.
Sunday, then? Marcy considered for a moment. We could do lunch?
Again his response seemed delayed, much to Marcy’s dismay. Was he second guessing? Was she being too forward, not submissive or passive enough to appeal to him? She opened a window to retract the offer as his response came through.
Deal. And maybe a movie? Or museum?
Marcy found herself smiling as she replied.
Or… something?
Something would be good. Something would be very good.
Typing out her laughter, Marcy asked the leading question she was afraid she would regret.
Yes, but what kind of something? She sucked her lower lip in, biting down on it as she waited for him to respond.
That’s a very good question. It could be something as simple as a kiss. Making out on a park bench after a picnic like teenagers? But I have the impression that your kind of something is closer to my kind of something. I think we’ll see a movie. You might want to wear a skirt.
Marcy’s jaw dropped before she giggled.
I think that’s a very good idea.
Chapter Twelve
Aaron stepped out of the Jeep, his long legs unfolding from the slightly lifted frame of the vehicle. Striding across the parking lot, he prepared himself for the apology he would have to make for his tardiness. Glancing down as he stepped onto the sidewalk, he noted the dirt on his shorts. Chuckling, he brushed it off. Kayla’s kids always loved going out on the trails, but after the rain Friday night, they had ended up covered in just as much mud as the Jeep. The smile on Kayla’s face as she’d scolded him had made the trip completely worth it. Looking back at his mud-spattered Wrangler, he gave himself a mental kick in the pants. He should have washed it this morning.
In the restaurant, Aaron glanced around the waiting area. Not seeing Marcy, he approached the bar. The tired-looking bartender looked up from her glossy fashion magazine.
“Can I help you?” she droned in a sulky tone of voice.
Aaron felt his eyebrows raise in response to the seeming lack of customer service in her demeanor. “I’m meeting someone. Did she—” A flash of white drew his attention to the patio through the floor-to-ceiling French doors. With a brief smile, he turned back to the sullen bar girl. “Never mind. I think I found her.”
Aaron walked between the sparsely populated high-top tables to the open door for the outdoor seating. As he approached, the view made his grin return.
The restaurant was a popular destination for young professionals during the week for both business lunches and the after-work wind-down. Modern enough to be appealing for a night out and romantic enough to be appropriate for a date, the patio overlooked a man-made pond on the outskirts of a golf course. The trees and landscaping surrounding gave it the feeling of an idyllic getaway. On the weekends, though, it seemed reserved for tourists and an older crowd.
As she leaned over the wrought-iron railing, Marcy’s skirt caught in the breeze. The white cotton flashed against the black of the rail, table and chairs. He could hear her laughter while she leaned farther. As he grew closer, he began to see what drew her attention.
Two ducks glided on the water, side by side. Their pace seemed leisurely, avoiding the other wildlife on and near the water’s surface. The mallard began to veer toward a crowd of other ducks, but was quickly brought to heel by the vehement quacking and pecking of the speckled brown fowl next to him. Marcy’s laughter rang out when she saw the smaller male cower. Aaron’s laughter joined hers as it happened again.
Turning her head to see him behind her, Marcy grinned. “The poor hen-pecked male. Can’t even look at another female without getting beat up, huh?”
“Yeah, you women are vicious,” Aaron teased, leaning his forearms on the railing behind the chair across from hers. He noted that in order to lean over the rail as she was, Marcy was kneeling on the cushioned chair. A sudden rush of heat hit him as he imagined approaching behind her, his hips pressing against the curve of her ass.
Another laugh bubbled from her lips. “We’re not all so heartless.” Marcy turned, sitting almost primly in her chair.
Aaron realized the skirt was part of a summery dress, the neckline leaving her shoulders bare while still hugging her arms, and found a strange appeal in the way the skirt billowed slightly as she sat.
“A few of us might even enjoy the views as much as you boys do.”
With a curious sort of surprise, Aaron lifted an eyebrow at her comment. “Is that right? Why, Marcy, I think you may be naughti
er than I gave you credit for.” He made the observation as he settled into his own chair.
A throat cleared behind him, and he saw Marcy blanch before she looked down at her plate. “Um, can I get you something to drink, sir?”
Aaron chuckled at the suddenly charged situation. Turning slightly, he saw the college-aged waiter standing just off his shoulder. “Coffee for me, thank you. And a water for each of us.” Gesturing to Marcy, he queried, “Anything else for you?”
Her lips pursed tightly as she shook her head. “No, thank you,” she replied quietly, affording him a glimpse of the way she bit the inside of her lip.
Aaron shifted his gaze, considering her.
The submissive nature seemed so obvious to him now, from each encounter they had experienced. Even from the first, the way she had looked so sensually at the baked goods at the coffee shop. Having seen more, he could identify those parts of her. Now, when most people would say she was upset by the revealing conversation, he could see the way she fidgeted and see the flush climbing her neck and cheeks. He had a distinct feeling that it wasn’t from actual embarrassment.
Marcy’s eyes flashed up to him, a glare that turned to an indulgent smile. “You’re terrible,” she muttered, with a smile turned sultry and eyelids at a lazy half-mast.
He felt his own smirk lift the corner of his lips. “That doesn’t sound like a complaint.”
She made a contented sound in the back of her throat. “We’ll see,” she seemed to purr. She looked back down at the menu, perusing the selections quickly.
He made his own choice and they ordered the salads when the server returned with the drinks. Aaron noted the way the younger man devoted attention to Marcy. He waited for the slight outrage of possession that had come after the scene with David, but was pleasantly surprised to simply feel a camaraderie with the stranger. She did look beautiful and he couldn’t fault him for the attention he paid her. The smiles she gave were genuine and, he realized suddenly, naïve of the way she drew the waiter in. As an idea formed, Aaron grinned.
After the server had left with the menus and a promise to get the order in swiftly, Marcy stood and clutched her small handbag. “Pardon me,” she said quietly. She stepped out from behind the table, having to cross past his chair to find the restrooms.
Aaron reached up to trace down her arm, effectively freezing her in position. He circled her wrist, noting again their difference in size as he wrapped his palm around her slender arm.
“A moment, please,” he began. He saw her slight smile as she leaned a little nearer to him. With his lips at her ear, he instructed, “First, tell me what color your panties are.”
Her sharp exhale brushed over his own ear, leading his fingers to tighten on her wrist. He could hear the tremble in her voice as she pulled slightly against his grip. “Um,” she stammered.
He allowed her a moment to delay answering before he continued, “Marcy, tell me…or show me. Your choice.” He unwrapped his fingers from her skin, slowly releasing her.
She remained in the position, leaning toward him for a moment, before straightening. He could see the pursing of her lips again, the habit that he now identified as a by-product of the biting of her lip. As he watched her lips, he wondered at a sudden twitch of them into an almost smile before she nodded imperceptibly and began to walk away.
He had expected other reactions and nearly got up to follow her before noting that she’d moved too quickly for him to do so. He sat back in his chair, wondering what could be going through her mind.
She returned shortly, surprising him with a hand on his shoulder. She slid her other hand down his arm, a texture other than her soft skin raking along his forearm. The action brought her body bent near his cheek. She brushed her lips over it before her hand met his and her whisper washed his ear. “I choose show.”
His mouth dried as she pressed the fabric she was clutching into his palm and moved to her own chair. A quick glance down to his lightly curled hand revealed white lace. His eyes darted up to look at her as she calmly took a sip of water. His eyes narrowed on her, even as she looked back with a beguilingly innocent look.
“What?” she teased. “You said I could choose.” She tried to hide her smile.
He nodded slightly, but silently, making the resolution to up his game. Aaron lifted the delicate panties, careful to hide them with his caged, curled fingers. He studied them boldly, noting the way her cheeks reddened as she realized what he was doing. Bringing them close, he realized… He could smell her on them. He inhaled deeply, knowing that she was so tuned to him she would be able to hear it, even over the sounds around them.
He saw her gaze follow his hand as it dropped below the table’s edge. Pocketing the confection of white lace, he leaned across the table. “We’ll make use of those later, I think.”
The squeak that came from her made him grin in pure wicked enjoyment as the waiter arrived with their salads.
Chapter Thirteen
Marcy shifted in her chair once again as Aaron signed the tab for their meal. The feeling of the cotton against the sensitive skin of her pussy was not helping her frame of mind. She could feel the slide of her natural wetness between her thighs each time she shifted position. It had made the meal one of distraction at best. During one mortifying moment, Aaron had been in conversation with their waiter as she’d shifted. She had realized as her legs uncrossed that she could smell her own arousal. As accustomed to it as she was, it was not a moment of note until she heard the sharp inhale and saw Aaron’s gaze shift to her. Marcy had felt her eyes widen at his expression of sudden hunger, giving the distinct impression that he had also noticed the scent and knew what it meant.
“I can drive to the theater, if you don’t mind leaving your car parked.” Aaron continued their conversation with a calm voice, as he had throughout the entire meal.
She felt at a disadvantage, hardly able to speak at all and never in coherently complete sentences. She nodded in response, gathering her handbag and cardigan. Both of them standing, he gestured for her to precede him.
As she passed him, he placed a hand on the small of her back. The tables were too closely set for them to walk side by side, but the guidance of his hand seemed natural and comforting. The reception area opened slightly, allowing him to step in stride beside her.
Marcy felt herself squeak with surprise as he propelled her into the small seating area for patrons awaiting a table. He pressed her into a hidden corner and she heard a distinct growl in his voice as he murmured, “Can’t wait anymore.”
With his hand wrapped around her, still on the small of her back, he brought his other hand to cradle the back of her neck. Marcy lifted her chin as he applied slight pressure there and brought their lips together.
Marcy felt her eyelids flutter and her eyes roll back slightly with the gentle pleasure of the kiss. A soft sigh escaped her just before she heard the tortured groan from him. His arm moved and she felt his body shift against hers. As he bent her closer, she realized he’d crept his hand up her skirt from behind. She raised her own hands to his shoulders, ready to push him away if it became too much.
The kiss changed as his fingers gripped her ass, a fall of her skirt still covering her bare skin from his palm. He crushed his lips to hers, using his tongue to teasingly demand entry. As she parted her lips, his shifted in order to take her lower lip between his teeth. Marcy heard the soft thump and the sharp clatter as her bag and sweater dropped from fingers that had suddenly gone numb. She curled those fingers against his shoulders to hide their weakness, her fingernails cutting into the muscle as she gripped him hard in response.
He slid his tongue between her lips for a moment, just tasting her, before he again licked at her lips. She convinced one of her hands to release him, hooking her arm behind his neck and pressing her body upward and closer to his. A gasp passed between them as her soft body collided with the sudden hardness of his.
Once again a throat cleared behind them. Marcy froze. She felt
Aaron lift his head to look behind him. Peering around his frame, Marcy flushed to see their waiter, once again catching something that shouldn’t have been for his eyes. She started to duck behind Aaron, to hide herself with his size.
Aaron used one finger pressed under her chin to bring her eyes up to his. The blue was calculating, seeming to measure her reaction. “Marcy, will you play?”
She felt her brows furrow in confusion.
He continued, explaining without explanation, “Will you trust me? Will you allow me to play?”
A flurry of emotion cascaded over her. Would she trust this man in this moment? What thought could be inspiring him to ask this right now? What wicked little idea was in his head? Her curiosity had her nodding, her eyes wide and her appetite whetted.
Aaron moved. He stepped behind her, his arm across the front of her shoulders to trap her against his chest. She could feel the length of him pressing against her back. His mouth teased the shell of her ear.
The shifting in the doorway took her attention. The waiter leaned against the doorjamb, his arms across his chest and a small smile on his face. Marcy turned her face, unable to keep a connection with this stranger as Aaron slid his other hand over the front of her skirt.
“You are brave, aren’t you, you sweet thing? Handing me your panties like that, in plain view. Very daring, Marcy.” Aaron’s voice in her ear seemed to drag her back to the charged moment. “You knew what I meant when I gave you the choice, didn’t you? Yet you chose to sit across that table from me with no panties on. Tell me, Marcy. Did that make you wet?”
