Page 161 of Unleashed

Greg says, “We have our issues, but we’re friends.” That’s a miracle.

Mom whines, “I know, but I see you interact, and it’s love. I knew it with Finn and Hadley. I know it for you two. No one you’ve dated has ever made me believe that, Simone. No one.”

“You’re only seeing it because we were married for a minute. Let it go.”

“I wish you two wouldn’t dismiss it so fast. When I look at Greg, I see the father of your children.” He was at least to one.

Greg shifts next to me, but I have him trapped, so he can’t run. I’m not here for my mother to talk him into something. He’s already told me how he feels.

“He’s not. How’s work?”

She sighs. “I’ll take a hint. For now. Work is fine.” Mom chatters about office politics and gossip while I nod. Under the table, I remove my ex-wedding ring and place it on Greg’s thigh. He looks down and sees me circling it over his leg and moving downward, but not to his dick. I don’t assume he wants me to go there.

I tease him, though, and press the ring into his leg. He squirms but doesn’t push me away. Mom remains oblivious, and I slide my finger closer to his balls, but then move down his leg again. Greg answers my mom about something, so I pause for him to answer, but then resume once my mother speaks. This time, I slide up his leg until I hit his stiff shaft, straining against his black dress pants. I hear his deep breath, and he shifts, fisting his hand over his mouth.

“Right, Simone?”

I look up from the table at my mother. “What?”

Mom shakes her head. “Where are you? I doubt you heard anything I said.”

“Not really.”

Our sandwiches arrive, but Greg and I pick at them. He tries to be covert as he moves closer to me, so I don’t have to stretch as far. I guess he likes what I’m doing.

I stroke his cock with the ring, circling it over his tip and underneath, where it’s sensitive. He clears his throat, and I slide the ring over his balls. I then put it on the seat between his legs and full-on rub my fingers over him. He clears his throat again to hide a moan.

My mother asks, “You okay, Greg?”

“Mm-hmm,” he squeaks, and I laugh. Greg picks up his sandwich, takes a bite, and drops it back onto his plate. Chewing seems to help him keep his mouth busy.

I use my fingernails to scratch his dick. Greg swallows his food but then swallows again, louder, and puts his hand over mine to stop me. I smile, seeing how it’s affecting him, and pause my hand to give him a break.

His swift sigh almost makes me giddy. I clutch his erection and circle my thumb over the head. His shaft twitches, and I glide my hand between his legs to massage his balls and roll them with gentle sweeps under my fingertips.

Greg groans but starts coughing. Mom asks, “Are you okay? You’re not getting sick, are you?”

I giggle and stroke his cock as he tries to answer my mother. His voice cracks. “Uh, not sick. Just allergies.”

“Mom, see that building across the street? Isn’t that one of your favorite styles? Jackie talked about it once.”

She strains to see over the cafe curtain. “Oh, you’re right, sweetheart.” As she observes it and gives us boring details, I stroke Greg on a mission to drive him insane. I want him to let go. He pants against his fist and grabs my wrist to stop me, but I keep going.

He leans closer to me and pleads, “Stop. You’re gonna make me come.”

I look him in the eye as I stroke and mouth, “I know.”

Greg dips his head to my ear and whispers, “Jesus Christ,” and a guttural moan escapes his lips, sending shivers down my spine, as his excitement becomes evident through the wetness spreading under my touch. His hot, stuttered breaths harden my nipples and soak my underwear.

I bite my grin as he lingers at my ear. Mom says, “I turn my head, and you can’t keep your hands off each other.”

Greg pulls away from me with a relieved sigh tinged with fresh frustration. “I, uh... I told her a joke.”

Mom laughs. “I love jokes. What is it?” Lord.

“It’s not one for you, Mom. You wouldn’t get it.” She really wouldn’t.

“Simone, I’m not that old,” she argues. I realize I’m clutching Greg’s inner thigh, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I don’t want him to think I’m being possessive. I’m not.

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