Page 57 of Aim Assist

There's conversation coming closer, and my breath stutters as I glance toward the two men walking to a table, not paying any attention to the sinful things happening in our corner. They sit with their backs to us, discussing something. The surf? The waves? I can't tell.

Every time he flicks the pad of his finger across my clit, I see fucking fireworks.

His dark whisper is going to send me straight to hell. I know it, because he's a devil with that rough voice in my ear. "Be careful, baby girl, or they're going to know exactly what I'm doing to you."

My skirt is long enough to cover his hands and any evidence of what he's doing, so I reach down to flick it down for privacy.

Liam shoves it back up, and our hands are caught.

"I don't want them to see," I whisper, not sure if they can hear us.

His other hand is still lazily sliding in and out of me, and the sound is obscene. Loud to my ears. I wonder if those men can hear it.

Liam lets my skirt fall, hiding me from view, and kisses my neck. Once. Twice. Gentle, sweet.

And then he bites my shoulder as he slides another finger inside me. He's no longer gentle. It's fast, furious, and the sound is so loud that there's no way the men can't hear.

As his fingers squelch between my legs, I swallow back a strangled shriek.

Both men stop talking, but I'm too embarrassed to look. To see them staring at us.

"Liam," I hiss, but his hand keeps pumping, his fingers curled and thrusting against my G-spot. I want to ride his hand, to grind myself against those fingers, but I'm frozen in desire and shock when I hear him talking to them.

Talking.

To.

Them.

While his fingers are inside me. Not just inside me. They're thrusting, twisting, curling, finding every little spot that makes me gasp.

"You guys okay over there?" one of them calls out, and there's laughter in his words.

He fucking knows.

They both do.

And instead of feeling like I've been doused in cold water, I can feel a burst of warmth down below at the sound of a complete stranger.

Not that his voice is to my liking. It's not.

But knowing he's watching?

I peek in their direction. They're talking to Liam, but their eyes are on me.

On my skirt.

On his hands. They're covered, but you can still see the movement. Still hear it.

Holding my moans back isn't working. Every so often, a sound slips out like a whimper.

"Great," Liam calls out, his voice a casual breeze on a summer day. Like he's not fucking me with his fingers.

"That's hot," the other guy mutters, and Liam laughs against my ear.

"They think you're hot, Amy. Do you want them to see more?" Yep. Straight to fucking hell with his devil whispers.

I shake my head, even as my hips rock against his hand.

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