“You’re cruel,” I half-complain.
“Me? I’m feeding you some fabulous grilled cheese.”
I huff, but my thumbs turn inward, rolling along the line of hip/thigh until they’re adding pressure to her pubis. Her eyes flare as I dig in before tunneling ever deeper toward her crotch.
Her throat bobs. “Do you think this bakery knows people hook up in here?”
“For what they’re charging, they should include a bed.”
A soft bark of laughter escapes her. “You didn’t have to spend a lot?—”
I shake my head. “Hush.”
She bites her lip though. “I’d have been happy with a Timmies.”
“I wouldn’t have been. You deserve better.”
And yet again, she proves that she’s not some clout-seeking missile who’ll do anything to go viral when she turns shy on me.
What the fuck happened with Gracie, then?
“Anyway, I wasn’t complaining about the price. Just saying… they’d be crazy if they didn’t think people hooked up in here.”
Her head tilts to the right where there’s a whole staff of people working busily alongside us.
Her bottom lip pops in.
Her gaze tracks the staff.
And I know—I’m feeling it too—she’s loving this.
I figured out that I was possessive over her when I decided to make that offer to hog all her time to get her off that damn site.
I don’t want to share her.
But I like this.
I enjoythis.
And until her, I didn’t even fucking know I was into it.
Watching her get herself off and talk dirty to me for two hours a day for months has hardwired my brain into believing that witnessing her orgasm is my God-given right. I don’t want anyone else to see it too.
With her focus still on the staff, she takes a bite of my sandwich, then her eyes flare wider as I drag my hands down her thighs then back up again, taking the skirt of her dress with me.
That’s when I see her pussy.
“Fuck!”
She doesn’t turn to face me, but I can see her smile.
“You trying to kill me, Mia?”
No panties—shoot me now.
“Maybe torture you a little.”
I can’t help but laugh as I let my thumb trickle through her folds, watching her ass buck in response.