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“Just do it. Trust me.”
I sighed and scooted closer to him in the booth. He grabbed his napkin and dropped it in my lap, spread it over my knees, and then eased his hand under my dress. My mouth gaped open when I felt him slide his hand between my thighs.
“Ryan, you can’t…” I spoke the words as my thighs involuntarily parted.
He eased his hand inside my panties, found my clit, and gently squeezed it.
I clamped my mouth shut and bit down on my tongue to keep from shouting. He dragged his finger over my clit, pinching and tugging on it as I gripped the table. “Oh. My. Gahhhhh,” I whispered.
He leaned in and kissed my neck. “What was that?”
“Ryan, please…”
“You want me to stop, Angela?”
“Yes—no…”
He continued stroking me, flicked his tongue across my earlobe, and whispered, “Yes or no? Do you want me to stop?” His voice was forceful, commanding.
As he slid a finger inside my heated moistness, I managed to rasp, “I don’t want you to stop.”
His mouth still on my ear, he murmured, “Good, I won’t.”
“Shhhhhhit,” I whispered, trying not to lose all control. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder as I grabbed his shirt. “Ryan…”
“Hmm, that feel good, Angela?”
I nodded against his shoulder, whispered, “Yes.”
“Anyone ever made you feel this good before?”
“N-no…”
He used his free hand to lift my chin and then he claimed my mouth, slipping his tongue inside it, the taste of his whiskey battling the fruitiness of my mixed drink. I wondered if anyone was looking at us or could tell what was happening under the table, but the club was dimly lit, and besides, I really didn’t care. It felt too good to care.
His mouth left mine and I closed my eyes, resting my head against the back of the booth, feeling almost euphoric as he continued sliding his finger in and out of me, grazing my clit with each stroke. My chest heaved; my breathing was ragged. I was at the precipice of an orgasm when I heard a voice say, “Is there anything I can get you all? Refills?”
I opened my eyes to see our waiter standing over us. Ryan gave him a smile as he continued to fondle me and I continued to silently unravel.
“Yes, can I see a dessert menu?” Ryan asked.
I bit my bottom lip as the waves of an orgasm hit me, grabbed Ryan’s shirt again, buried my face in his neck, and released a high-pitched moan as the waiter handed him the menu. The waiter must have been looking at me wondering what was going on, because I heard Ryan say, “She really loves dessert.”
After the waiter left, I struggled to catch my breath as Ryan slid his fingers from me, lifted them to his mouth, and slipped them between his lips, tasting them. He winked at me, and said, “You know what? I think I’ll skip dessert after all. I don’t know what could be any sweeter than this.”
“Hello?” she answered the phone in a sing-song voice.
“Hey, you wanna hang out today?” It was the Sunday morning after our date at Coda.
“Well, what do you have in mind?”
“I thought we could go out for breakfast, catch an early movie, grab lunch, take a walk in the park, find a secluded bench where I can get you off again…”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“See you in twenty minutes. I’m hungry.”
