Page 160 of Unleashed

He gives me a dubious frown as he raises his ass to dig into his pocket. Greg hands me his ring, and I study it. He sighs. “It’s still the same ring.”

“Remember how I christened it?”

“How could I forget?” Greg smirks, but his brown eyes darken as they roam my body.

In the side mirror, I see my mother entering the parking lot. On an impulse, I bend forward, reach up my dress, push my underwear aside, and finger his ring into me.

He whispers, “What the fuck? Did you just...?”

I laugh as I sit up. I slide my wet finger over his bottom lip, and he sucks it into his mouth. His eager tongue glides over my finger, his contented groans filling the car.

I gasp and smile as he sucks. “I’ll let you retrieve it with your tongue later.”

Greg opens his mouth for me to take back my finger. “Goddamn. I’ll hold you to that.”

I leave the car and meet my mother as Greg takes a minute to regroup.

“What’s wrong with Greg?” Mom asks, peering past me.

“He’s listening to something on the radio. Let’s get a table.” I amble and tighten my pussy muscles, so I don’t lose the ring. I’m glad I do Kegels. Not regularly, but enough.

The hostess seats us in a corner booth and asks what we want to drink. I order a sweet iced tea for Greg, and my mother and I order Diet Coke. She sets her purse off to the side. “That was such a sweet thing you did for Jack, Simone. He bawled and missed most of your stage walk, but I got it on video.”

“I’ve thought about it for a while.”

“What does Greg think?”

“He loves it.”

“I noticed you were sitting in the wrong place for Garrison. I thought you had changed it to Rodwell when you were married.”

“I never got that far.”

Greg slides next to me on the bench. “Far for what?”

“Nothing. Can we switch places? The sun is in my eyes.”

He smirks. “Sure.” Greg stands and waits for me to exit before he slides into my place.

Our drinks arrive and we order club sandwiches. I tease Greg by running my fingers through his curling hair at his neck. “You need a haircut.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’ll cut it for you.”

“No way. I’ve seen you with scissors.”

“You don’t trust me, Gregory?”

He laughs. “Not with my hair, Simpson.”

I giggle and knock my arm against his. “You’re mean.”

Mom says, “So, Greg. Why don’t you love my little girl?”

I frown at her. “Are you serious?”

“It’s a reasonable question. You and Greg are perfect together. I knew it the first time I met him.”

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