Page 64 of Vodka And Virtue

I'd never experienced a feeling like this.

Indescribable bliss.

I continued to piston into him, increasing my speed to stoke the rising heat building in my belly.

“My turn, sweetness.”

He took over, rocking his hips back and forth instead of up and down, changing the feeling completely. Rory groaned when my cock head brushed over his spot. He fixed his hot gaze on me and pinched his nipples, teasing the metal piercings. I couldn't stop staring. He was fucking killing me.

“You like it when I hit deep?” I asked.

“Fuck, yeah. Wish I could ride your cock all night.”

He bucked his hips, stroking himself faster and faster, and I grew frustrated, feeling like I reached a plateau of pleasure. I was desperate to push past the invisible barrier keeping me from coming. With a grunt, I pushed him off me and scrambled off the wooden chaise.

“Get on your knees. Ass up.”

“Fuck, Carly. You're so hot when you get bossy.” He smirked.

He kneeled before me like a dog begging to get fucked. I parted his firm cheeks and slid inside his tight sheath, immediately setting a fast pace. My hips slapped against his ass, making a clapping sound as his sweaty flesh kissed mine.

“So close,” he warned.

So was I. The tingle in my lower back was spreading, my stomach clenching as I pounded him. I flooded his channel in a hot rush, continuing to fuck him through my orgasm. I wanted to make sure I buried my seed as deep as possible.

After all, he was going to wear it all night long.

* * *

Just five more hours untilI could cut out and go home to Rory. I assessed our bottle count and realized we needed another case of Hazy IPAs, and headed to the store room to grab a box. Four hours and fifty minutes left. When I returned to the counter, I began stacking the bottles in the mini fridge tucked under the bar.

“Hey, Carly.”

I looked up into Ryan’s smiling face. He was all dressed up and alone. Carson mentioned tonight was the night, and he had Shannon’s permission to take off work, so I assumed he would accompany his soon to be fiancé. But he was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, Ryan. Where’s my brother?”

“I don’t know. I got a message saying to meet COCKtail Cupid here at eight o’clock.”

“Y’all are weird,” I said, snickering at the ridiculous screen name my brother used the last time he played at romantic subterfuge with Ryan. I was starting to get an idea of his plan.

“You haven’t seen him?” he asked.

“Not yet. Why don’t you go take a seat over there.” I pointed him to an empty table in the lounge and his pretty face fell.

“I hate that table.”

“What did it ever do to you?” I asked, laughing.

“That’s the table I sat at the very first time I came in here, when my date ditched me and stole my credit card.”

“So,” I surmised, crossing my arms over my chest. “That’s the table you were sitting at the very first time you met my brother?”

Ryan’s expression brightened considerably, like someone turned on a light switch. “Oh! You’re absolutely correct!” Smiling, he dashed over to the table and sat down. I brought him a drink menu and left it with him before returning to the bar. My brother slid through the front door, looking left and right nervously.

“Is Ryan here?” he whispered.

I pointed toward the lounge. He nodded, smoothing his shirt as he approached me. Carson was dressed as dapper as I had ever seen him. His black button-down had a sheen to it, and I figured it was made of silk. His tie was a dark navy with fuchsia roses. The charcoal slacks he wore fit him to perfection.

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