Page 31 of On the Line

12

OZZY

I’d be laughing a lot more at James’ bewildered expression if I wasn’t so dumbfounded by the vision of her in that lavender dress. Her soft curves are on full display, and seeing her perfectly manicured feet in those heels makes me want to fall to my knees and crawl.

I crave to do a lot more than gape.

“Ozzy?” Her tone is frazzled as she looks around before taking a small step forward. “What are you doing here?”

Smirking, I wave my hand over the meat carving station in front of me. “Working.” She gives me a searing glare, and I snicker. “I pick up catering shifts here and there when I know the money will be good.” Now it’s my turn to narrow my eyes at her. “Question is: What areyoudoing here, Jimbo?”

Her expression shutters, arms crossing over her chest, pushing her plump tits upwards. After a beat, she reluctantly answers. “This is my party … my family’s house.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“You’re a Ferdinand?” I say slowly, pointing a finger at her almost in accusation.

Her nose wrinkles as if peeved. “How would you even know that?”

“I cater to the rich, remember? Gerald Ferdinand isn’t exactly a nobody in this world, princess.”

Her arm tightens around herself. “Stop calling me that,” she mutters while looking across the gardens. “Anyway, I really don’t have time for your shit right now, salad boy.”

I follow her gaze until I find the source of her agitation. Andfuck… I should have guessed. Suddenly, I’m walking away from my station—I’ll deal with the repercussions later. I grab James by the arm, dragging her in between two tall hedges nearby.

I crowd her but keep a distance between our bodies when I lean close to her face.

“I thought you would have dumped him by now?” I try to keep the venom for the guy out of my tone but it’s hardly working.

Maybe I’m presumptuous but the clues have been there; from her crying in the walk-freezer to the fucking blow-out on her birthday. The dude is total scum and if she needs someone to tell her that, I’ll gladly volunteer as tribute.

Her cheeks pinken, a multitude of emotions traveling across her irises until she lands on irritation. Her face hardens. “First of all, that’s none of your business,” she spits, giving me a hard shove in the chest. I stumble back, but can’t help but get a small thrill at her brazenness.

Her face softens a little, her brows knitting, looking down. “And … I will … I just?—”

I’m not interested in hearing the rest. Zachary can fucking die for all I care, I won’t spend another secondtalking about that loser when I finally have James alone again.

Like a dog with a bone, I crowd her once again. “Enough about him,” I tell her, my hand smoothing over her hip. Her blue eyes snap to mine in surprise. “You know …” I whisper, my mouth now dangerously close to hers, “I still remember how you tasted. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Her breath hitches. “Ozzy, we can’t—” she mutters in protest.

But I don’t let her finish that sentence, tilting my head into the crook of her neck, my hand now trailing down her ass. “I’d crawl on my hands and knees …” Leaning closer, I caress her cheek with the back side of my hand and whisper in her ear, “To have you on my tongue again.”

I pull her against me, her hips pressed against my own. Her eyes widen, darting back and forth but this time she doesn’t protest. Silence pulses between us—the tension rising, rising, rising … until I crack, catching her lips with mine.

James locks up for only a second before her body lets go and I press her even harder into me. After a few soft quiet moans and a taste of her peach lip gloss, the kiss quickly turns desperate. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” James whispers feverishly, while her lips still crash into mine, her tongue in my mouth.

I push her a few steps back, slamming her against one of those god-awful statues placed all around the gardens, hopefully far enough from the party so we don’t get interrupted. Although, they could all be watching and I’d still do what I’m aching to do. The clinking of glasses and the muted conversations in the air only heighten the thrill of this moment.

I find the slit in her dress with my hand while the other digs into her nape. “Tell me to stop, princess,” I say raggedly, my movements becoming more heated and demanding while I hurriedly push her dress up higher. “Tell me you don’t want this.” Sliding my palm over the fabric of her panties, I add, “Tell me you don’t want my fingers inside your cunt, while your piece of shit boyfriend is within earshot.”

I give her half a second to respond, but in reality, I don’t need it—her answer is in the hitch of her hips. Circling her clit over the fabric with my thumb, I wait for her to speak, her eyes hooded as her hands slide around my neck, pulling me into another kiss while murmuringdon’t stopover and over against my lips.

I tug her thong to the side, finding the wet warmth of her pussy with my fingers and I let out a long groan, catching her bottom lip and biting down roughly. She whimpers while I pin her against the statue. I’m so fucking hard I don’t know what to do with myself. “If I could swallow you whole I fucking would, consume all of you just for another taste.”

I don’t even know what I’m fucking saying, I’m just babbling, my mind feverish and focused solely on hearing James’ perfect little mewls.

I push a finger inside her pussy, then another. I pump in and out with aching hunger as she arches her back and moans loudly. Covering her mouth with my hand, I bring my body as close as I can get to hers, my lips to her ear. “Careful princess, you wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to find out that their perfect little girl is getting finger fucked by the help.”

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