David and Lacy Part 4

***Please note Requested Surrender will be released Feb. 2014. This is the 4th bonus chapter I’ve published on my blog that takes place between the hero and heroine prior to their story officially starting***

If you missed 1-3 please click on the button at the top this page that says “free reads” and start with #1

Their Second Dinner Date

 

David thanked the waiter who’d delivered their drinks and then zeroed in on Lacy. “Were you a good girl? Did you keep your hands off my pussy?”

Her eyes widened and she gasped as she shot a look around the restaurant, before her glassy-with-embarrassment gaze pinned him. “Have you no shame?”

“No I do not.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” She picked up her martini and cheered him, taking a larger than average sip of it. More in way of a gulp before she blew out a breath as if cooling her tongue. “But let me share this with you. If you want to get into my pants I’d refrain from using the term ‘good girl’. It’s demeaning.”

“But you’re all right with me claiming your pussy? Good to know.”

She plunked her glass down so hard some of the Kettle One sloshed over the rim. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. How was your day today?” He took a slow and measured mouthful of his Southern Comfort while he waited for her answer. Choosing to use her loss for words as an opportunity to study her. After a cursory examination he came to the conclusion that Lacy was a woman who wanted to keep it together. She could probably succeed in that endeavor too, if she had faith in herself. A modicum of faith that she was lacking at the moment.

“Why do you say things like that?”

He put his glass down and stared right at her. “Because I can.”

What little faith she had she was mustering, he could tell, as she set her elbows on the table and leaned forward with eyes devilishly sparkling. “I can say things too, you know.”

“Go ahead.”

“See that box?”

Of course he’d seen it. He was the one who brought it. He inclined his head and was in the middle of taking another mouthful of his drink when she quipped.

“I could have your dick in that box like this.”  She shot forward and snapped her fingers under his nose so fast he blinked. “If I wanted to.”

He almost choked and then managed to get the liquor down. Returning his glass to the table he grinned. “You’ve got guts, but even those can’t help you to pull off the impossible. My cock wouldn’t fit in there.”

“Yeah, well neither would your ego.” She waved him off with a snort. “It’s a freaking shoe box, for Pete’s sake, and by my estimate a man’s size eleven, maybe?”

“Twelve.”

“I rest my case.”

“You haven’t even stated it yet. Should we call Justin Timberlake and ask him how he got his dick in a box?”

She eyed him over her glass. “So you saw that SNL skit, did you?”

“Are you going to tell me?”

She shrugged and he held back an exasperated breath. He hated when women didn’t commit and to him that’s just what a shrug suggested.

“I wouldn’t want to spoil the evening. Which, by the way, is happening entirely too soon. I thought we agreed to once a week. This is twice in as many days.”

She took a sip of her drink and made a face that said she was savoring every drop of it. Such a brat. “Don’t try and change the subject, and believe me, if I thought you had an answer for me I’d press you on it. Knowing that you don’t, I’ll let your little fantasy about caging my dick go. As for this dinner date? My schedule is pretty full next week. The only free time I have I’ll be heading out of town to drop someone off somewhere, so I’m using my night for next week tonight.”

“I didn’t agree to that.”

“You didn’t disagree either.”

She fell back against the brocade covered booth rest and speculatively eyed him. “What else didn’t I disagree with?”

“I’d tell you, but I don’t want to spoil the evening.”

“All right.” She reached out and tapped one of the loops of the bright red bow. “Then why don’t you tell me what’s in the box?”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice saying, “I’d rather show you. Come here.” Nodding to the space next to him on his side of the booth, he gave her his best ‘I dared you to’ expression and added, “I think you’ll like it.”

It was as if she didn’t give the decision to scoot out from her side of the table and step to him a second thought. Standing, he moved so she could slip into his side of the booth. When he followed her in and they were both settled, he curled down and whispered in her ear, “I like your dress. What was with all that talk about ‘if I wanted to get into your pants’? You aren’t wearing any. Lucky me.”

She didn’t look up, only kept her eyes glued to the box as she whispered back, “Show me.”

Even though he knew she was referring to the contents of said box he figured he had an opportunity here. Waving the waiter off when the server looked as if he was going to come take their order, he moved closer to her. “Are you sure you want me to do that?”

She nodded and then stiffened when he splayed his hand on her thigh and squeezed. Slowly, so very slowly he slid his hand up until his wrist met her dress hem.

“David?” Her tone was low, but her voice firm. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you how lucky I am that I don’t have to fight to get into your nonexistent pants.”

“We’re in a restaurant.”

He inched his hand up higher. Pulling her leg toward him. “I know.”

“People could be watching.”

He continued to tug so she couldn’t close her legs. “Let them.”

She put both palms on the table and tried to lift herself away from his touch. “The waiter could come back.”

Damn he liked it when she squirmed. Turning, he leaned down and tilted his head while he searched and then found a warm and naked spot of flesh on her neck. A sensitive patch of skin just behind her ear. Softly sucking and nibbling on it until she gave up trying to escape him with a resigned sigh.

“That’s better,” he spoke against her temple. “Let me worry about what’s going on around us while you pay attention to this.”

He shifted his hand in a better position now that she wasn’t resisting him, and went to work. Seven moves and he’d have her melting. Six if she were invested.

 

Lacy’s palms mashed into the tabletop. She didn’t know how he’d done it. One minute he was sexily squeezing her thigh in promise and the next he had her thong pulled aside and his knuckle crushed against her clit. In and up he pressed and then held. The suspended sensation made her inner muscles clench with restless need as the lower half of her ached for him do more. But then he did just the opposite as he eased off. Only for a moment before he pressed in again. Holding this time for several seconds. Then again for seconds longer until she forgot about what he was doing and paid attention to how she was feeling.

Fuckable. So fuckable that she licked her lips and leaned into him for support. Breathless. Fragile.

“Mm…,” he huskily purred in her ear. “Open. Hot. Wet. I bet you’re tight. Should I slip this into you and check?”

The instant his finger teasingly rimmed her entrance, dipping close, but not close enough, she lost it. Her body shook as her inner muscles folded under the sublime tension, sending a rush of liquid warmth from her core to her center. “David…”

“You’re too impatient, angel. Now I won’t know until next time.”

Her eyes fluttered open and it took her a few seconds to assimilate where she was and what had just happened. When she did she was glad that he’d finished righting her clothes, but not very glad when his words managed to sink in. “You won’t know—?”

He moved so fast she didn’t have time to even flinch. In the span of a heartbeat he had hold of her chin and tilted it until their eyes met. The heat in his gaze electric. “How tight you are.” There was utter stillness for a second or two as the air between them crackled and snapped with energy and then she had to fight to steady her breathing as he whispered, “Fortunately I’m a patient man. Do you want to see what’s inside the box now?”

She didn’t trust herself to speak. Choosing to nod, she sat up straighter. And when she realized how slumped she been in the seat she was surprised she hadn’t slid right under the table when he was playing with her.

With shaky hands she undid the ribbon and braced herself before she lifted up the lid. Just as he’d done with the collar he’d stuffed mounds of tissue paper for her to dig through. But once she parted the stuff to reveal what was inside, she frowned and did a mental head scratch.

“Do you like it?”

“Give me a second.” Plucking the object out, she examined it to make sure it was what she thought it was. Depressingly enough, it was. Oh well. She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and beamed up at him. “You shouldn’t have. Really it’s too much. I’m, well, I’m speechless.”

“No.” His grin was a bright as her smile. “What you are is bratty. Don’t you like my gift?”

She looked down at it with a dubious expression and then looked back up at him. “I don’t know where you come from, but in my neck-of-the-woods women get chocolate and flowers, not an egg timer.”

“Clearly you’ve been deprived.”

She would have said something to that, but the waiter came and took their order. When they were alone again she put the little white dial back in the box and shook her head. “I don’t even like eggs.”

She was just about to ask him to move so she could go on the opposite side of the booth when his warm palm landed on her knee. The strength and weight of it made all her small muscles low and deep seize up with heated anticipation as he said, “Good to know, but you won’t be using the timer for eggs. You’ll keep it in your bedroom and use it when I tell you to.”

Despite how the thought of that had her inwardly shivering and made her want him with a wickedly dark passion she’d never experienced before, she couldn’t let him say a thing like that to her. It was egotistical and all-male. As if she had no choice in the matter. “I may not want to.”

He chuckled then and it wasn’t so much the fact that he did, as it was more the way he did that worried her. As though her pronouncement had been an adorable joke she’d fashioned just to please him. Folding her arms to act as a shelf under her breasts, she stuck her nose in the air, teed her shoulders and sniffed. “You’ll see.”

“Correction.” He turned toward her and gently pulled her arms out their cross. “You’ll see. And don’t look so worried.” He brushed her hair back off one shoulder. “It’s going to fun, remember?”

He was so close to her. So warm and strong and fuckalicious that she couldn’t remember her own name, let alone what they’d been talking about. All she could do is stupidly nod and hope that the action was an appropriate one. But then she figured it was when he curled down and spoke in her ear.

“Very good. And, if you’re patient, next time I’ll be able to slide inside you. I already know how hot and wet you get. Now I want to know how tight you are—here.”

His hand slipped under her dress again, when he possessively stroked the warm and moist part of her beneath her thong. Crazy though it seemed, the only response she could think to make was to turn and rest her forehead against his shoulder. He’d probably read all kinds of things in that move, but she didn’t care.

Not until he said, “That’s my good girl.”

Then she cared, but not for any of the reasons that made sense…