Page 7 of Big Filthy Mobster

“Wow,” I comment, staring at the beautiful display of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and mashed potatoes on the platter in front of me. “This looks amazing.”

“Oh, it is.” The hand on my knee moving up my inner thigh. On instinct, I spread my legs, in turn urging him to shift his touch higher. “Just tell me if you want me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” I breathe, slightly worried about where this is going but the curiosity far outweighs the concern.

With my permission given, he continues his way up my leg, his fingertips hot against my skin. Warmth spreads from each point of contact, all of it settling in my center. As his hand gets closer to the edge of my panties, I realize what’s going to happen.

My heart pounds in my chest with excitement. Between my legs, I start to get wet. For a moment, I do consider asking him to stop—we’re in public after all. Patrick seems confident that we’llbe left alone, though. And, his eyes are scanning the restaurant. If someone comes our way, I know he’ll stop.

I have to bite my tongue when his knuckle rubs against the gusset of the fabric. He chuckles under his breath as I inhale sharply. The way he’s clearly enjoying making me squirm makes everything about this even sexier.

After a few seconds of teasing, he slowly pulls my panties to the side and slides the tip of his finger through my folds. This time, I whimper. My legs shake. It’s ecstasy.

“You have to keep your voice down,” he murmurs, his mouth right next to my ear, his fingers still working my over gently. “You don’t want to get caught, do you?”

“No,” I whisper, gripping my thighs tightly and repressing another sound.

“Good girl.”

Then, he dips a finger into my opening, pumping in and out. His pace slowly gets faster. With each thrust of his hand, it gets harder to keep myself quiet. I don’t want to get caught though, so I focus on breathing.

As if trying to challenge me even more, he removes the digit and circles my clit. It’s overwhelming, and my legs spasm. I bite down a moan, and it comes out as a low growl.

“God, I wish we were somewhere that I could hear you,” he mutters as he continues his onslaught. “I’m sure you make the prettiest noises, Holly.”

“Mm,” I hum, wanting to respond, but knowing if I actually open my mouth I’ll be too loud.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, clearly not expecting me to respond. “There’s even more where this came from.”

I gasp, his words coupled with the insistent circling of his fingers collect in my lower abdomen. A pleasant pressure builds steadily. It’s so intense, feeling like it’s both too much and not enough. My hips twitch forward without my permission, searching for more friction. I’m chasingsomething, but I don’t know what it entails.

“You’re getting close aren’t you?” Patrick murmurs, amusement apparent in his tones. “I can tell. It sounds like it’s getting harder for you to keep quiet.”

I exhale sharply, something deep in coiling up tightly. Then, with a few more strokes of his finger, it springs off. I fall over the edge, my vision lighting out as I twitch in my seat. I bite down on my tongue as Patrick works me through it.

The intensity of my orgasm subsides after a few seconds, and when my body stops shaking, Patrick withdraws his hand. He pulls my panties back over my sensitive sex. Then, after smoothing down my skirt, he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of each of them.

“Just as sweet as I imagined,” he says, giving me a wink that makes me giggle.

“Oh my god,” I murmur, shock in my voice. “I can’t believe we did that.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” I blush deep and nod. “Good because I did, too.”

The rest of our time together is charged, but we manage to keep our conversation on the right side of casual. We both tell stories about wild things we’ve seen in the casino, and Patrick tells a few stories about the kind of trouble he and Maxwell would get into.

When we part with a kiss in the parking lot, I can’t help but think there’s something that Patrick’s hiding from me. Even the stories he told about his time in New York had details omitted. He might have thought that I didn’t pick up on it, but I’m more perceptive than I let on. There’s something that he doesn’t want me to know, and despite how strongly I think he’s it for me, I wonder if whatever he’s keeping from me is a dealbreaker.

Chapter Five

Patrick

I’m feeling pretty good about the date when I leave. I actually feel on top of the world until I’m standing in the shower with water pounding against my back and my cock in my hand. As I’m jerking off to thoughts of Holly and the way her body responded to my touch tonight, it dawns on me that this is the first woman I’ve been interested in for anything more than a quick release since my wife passed.

All night, my sleep is fitful. I wonder what my late wife would think. I know that she’d want me to enjoy my life, especially because I refuse to pretend we weren’t madly in love. I still miss her every day, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that if I ever fall for another woman that Delilah will always have a place in my heart. She wouldn’t care if I’ve found someone that makes me happy, but would she approve of that person being young enough to be our daughter?

The next morning, I’m still in my head about it. My feelings for Holly are strong, but feelings of guilt are starting to sink in. I start to wonder if the way I want her is good for her. Plus, I’d be pulling her into a world of dangerous characters. It was hard enough keeping my work from my daughter, there’s no way I could keep it from a romantic partner.

After an hour of battling with my mind, I call Maxwell and ask if he has time to meet up. I know things have to be hectic since getting back from two weeks of no work.

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