Page 87 of When We Were More
“Oh, I don’t know. I bet she probably loves hearing how attractive you find her.”
How is Jake missing the bitterness of Henry’s tone?
“Henry.” It’s all I say. His eyes soften for a split second before the hardness returns.
“Matilda.”
“I’m going to go use the restroom and let you guys talk shop.” Again, I attempt to stand, but it’s Henry’s hand on my thigh that stops me this time.
At first, I have the protection of my dress to act as a barrier between his hand and my skin, but then he slips under the fabric at the deep slit in my dress. There’s a slight roughness to the skin of his fingertips and palm as they brush against my smooth thigh.His touch is intoxicating, and I’ve missed it tremendously. I barely manage to hold in a gasp, and I don’t visibly react. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
I should make him remove his hand, but I don’t. I act like he’s not even touching me, though my insides are a quivering mess.
Jake continues talking with Henry, and while I hear their words, I can’t focus on any of them. Henry,his hand now mid-thigh, is participating in the conversation with Jake effortlessly, not bothered at all by the sensation of our flesh connecting.
Jesus, this man is killing me.
“So, Jake. Why don’t we stop talking shop and just enjoy ourselves? There will be plenty of time to talk about work duringyour apprenticeship. Tell me about yourself outside of work.” Henry turns and stares at me. “Are you dating anyone? Maybe Matilda here?”
I roll my eyes, and he slides his hand further up my thigh. This time nearer to my panty line.He uses his fingertips to caress along the sensitive skin there, driving me within an inch of insanity. I should be angry at whatever game he’s playing, but there’s a part of me, the part that knows exactly what this man does to my body, that’s excited. It’s a part that’s turned on by whatever it is he’s doing with this back-and-forth conversation while he moves his hand closer and closer to touching my panties... in a room full of people.
“No, unfortunately.” Jake grins at me.
Ugh. I’m not amused.
“I ask Tills here out every time I see her, but she always says no.” Jake shrugs.“Says she doesn’t have a boyfriend, either, so I can’t figure out what’s holding her back.”
Henry’s hand stills. Because he’s close to me, I notice his breathing speeds up.
Jake picks up his beer and takes a swig.
“I plan to keep working on her. I think there’s something there.” Jake winks at me.
Henry’s fingers press into my flesh. Then, shocking me, Henry slides his hand over my pussy and cups it through my panties. I wasn’t expecting it, and I gasp, then try to cover it with a cough.
I glance down at my lap, suddenly worried that people can see what he’s doing. Henry notices. Fortunately, the long tablecloth covers us. What the hell am I doing, letting a man touch me like this in a public place? Letting him tease me as he runs his fingers over my aching pussy like it would be no big deal for me to come in this room of people.
With no apparent concern about Jake overhearing, Henry leans near my ear and whispers, “I would never let anyone see you, Matilda. Never. This pussy is mine. Only mine.”
I clear my throat.
“I promise you, Jake, I’m not playing hard to get. I don’t date. But I’m happy being yourfriend.” I stress the word ‘friend’ to be clear.
Henry’s jaw clenches. He increases the pace and pressure of his strokes, and it’s working me up.
“Oh, like you and I arefriends. Right, Matilda? You’re friends with Jake like that?”
I narrow my eyes at him, not answering. He seems almost angry. Fortunately, Jake doesn’t pick up on any of the innuendos or the tension.
“What about you, sir? Is the woman you had dinner with your girlfriend?”
Henry scoffs. “No. Like Matilda here, I don’t date.”
“Ah, just friends then. How are two good-looking guys like us getting friend-zoned?” Jake is trying to make a joke, but it falls flat.
“No, she’s not even a friend. She’s… an acquaintance.”
Time stops.
