Page 119 of Rut Bar

A few minutes later, he returns triumphantly with the ocean blanket and a shopping cart. We browse every aisle, spending way too long in the crowded store. There aren’t as many options in person as there are online, but I enjoy being able to feel all the textures of things. Some items I think I’ll love, I hate. A beautiful chunky knitted throw causes instant revulsion when I stroke it. I make a face and wipe the memory of the texture off my hand.

We pile the cart high with way more bedding than I think we need, but the boys insist it’s necessary. I pick stuff that I think will complement Jamie’s beach house. Muted turquoise and cream, pale yellow and warm wood tones.

Brendan insists on double-layer bed curtains to go with our new four-poster orgy size bed. There are sheer inside curtains for everyday use and a thicker light-blocking outer layer to make the nest more cozy. I’m not sold on the idea of a dark, enclosed space until he looks through the string lights with me. A set shaped like tiny seashells makes me pause, and he throws four of them into the cart before I can protest. It might not be so claustrophobic since the bed is bigger.

When the smiling cashier rings us up, the total makes me want to throw up. I haven’t spent that much money on something that wasn’t for Rut in… Probably ever. I don’t think I’ve ever spent that much money on myself before. Anthony hands over his card without balking.

After the delivery details have been finalized, Brendan and Jamie load up the car and I sit on the back bench seat. Anthony climbs in and sits next to me, his lips curling into a smirk as he pulls the van’s double doors shut with a bang.

“Thank you for today,” I say. It was nice to be spoiled. Odd, slightly uncomfortable, but nice.

Anthony’s hand settles on my thigh, his thumb making circles where my shorts end. His fingers dig into the skin as he pulls my thighs apart so he can stroke higher along my inner thigh.

“You’re welcome, baby,” he says. “We enjoyed spoiling you. Happy is a good look on you. Now, are you going to be a good girl for me and let me unwrap my present?”

He’s waiting for me to protest, but I’m well aware of Anthony’s exhibitionism kink by now. Still, I wish I’d worn a dress. After spending nearly every day at rut in a skirt, I threw on a pair of shorts today. Shifting on the bench seat, I let my legs fall open and meet the challenge in his eyes.

“Unwrap me, Daddy.”

ChapterThirty-Two

VERONICA

Anthony doesn’t wasteany time. He gets the button on my shorts undone with one hand. I shouldn’t be impressed by that, yet I am. He slides the zipper down and shoves his hand inside, his fingers petting me through my panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby. Tell me the truth. Did you imagine us bending you over that bed and christening it right there in the store?”

My teeth pinch my bottom lip as I bite it and nod, my breath stuttering as he fingers me through my panties. As he makes me want forbidden things. He slides them up and down my damp, clothed slit.

“Mmhmm,” I moan.

Jamie fiddles with the radio, changing the station until he settles on one he likes. He cranks the air and rolls up the cracked windows. Once Jamie pulls out into traffic, Anthony ramps up the teasing.

He works his hand underneath my slick panties, spreading my wetness and grazing my clit until it swells. He rubs me, working me until my breaths turn into pants and I can’t help but moan. Two fingers tease my entrance, pushing in and out until the wet sounds of my body are louder than the radio.

“Do you hear how fucking wet you are, baby? You like the idea of me fucking you, claiming this sweet little hole in front of a bunch of strangers, don’t you?”

“Yes. I thought about it. Oh, God. Right there.” I’ve never acted out an exhibitionist fantasy before Anthony. Never dared.

His palm rubs against my clit and his fingers pump faster. The wet sucking sounds my pussy makes are filthy and I’m still picturing Anthony bending me over every flat surface in that store and ripping my shorts and panties down. His cock sliding between my lips. Slicking himself up in my arousal. Sinking inside with no resistance. Need coils in my pelvis until the familiar edge of a growing release tightens inside me.

“You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you, baby? My perfect little slut. You want my cock in this greedy hole, don’t you?” Anthony asks.

“Mm, fuck. Yes.” His movements speed up, his fingers curling and hitting a spot that makes my toes scrunch in my shoes. “I want you inside me. Need you.”

“Are you gonna come, baby?”

“Yes. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Anthony stops, and when I moan from frustration, he grins. “Not yet, baby. Not until that greedy hole of yours is squeezing my cock. Take these clothes off.” He pulls the waistband of my panties away from my body and lets them snap against my skin. “Now.”

With fumbling fingers, I lift my hips and work my shorts and panties down until my bare bottom sticks to the warm vinyl seat. I can’t take them all the way off with my shoes on, so I kick my sandals off. My face heats with embarrassment at being completely bare from the waist down. The windows aren’t tinted. Anyone who looks in from a car that’s higher than ours is going to get a show. But I’m so desperate to come that I don’t care.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Anthony asks. He grabs the hem of my shirt and rucks it until my lace bra is visible. And then he yanks that down. My breasts spill free of the cups, my nipples hardening.

“Anthony,” I protest. I want to come, but this is a bit much. Stripping naked wasn’t part of our deal. He can fuck me with my shirt on. I reach for the fabric to cover myself until his hand shoots out to stop me.

“Take it off, baby.”

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