Page 12 of Wild Flower

Her mouth clamps down on my fingers, and she comes.

Her hand clutches my cock. Her thighs tremble and her pussy ripples against Archer’s knuckles, but he doesn’t let up. He takes her budding orgasm as his cue to pump into her harder, crooking his fingers and thumbing her clit as she peaks.

I pull my fingers from her lips and cover her open mouth with my palm, muffling the cry she can’t control. She’s gorgeous when she lets go. That wild, silver hair splayed over her shoulders, her thighs trembling with release, her mouth gobbing at my palm with the song of her heat.

She caresses me softly through my pants as she comes down from her convulsions. Her eyes closing with long dark lashes that are delicate as ferns. I’m hard as iron in my pants, and I’m going to have to invite her into the bathroom or deal with it myself. But right now, I just watch her breathe and bask in the gift she was given.

Archer pulls his fingers from her and rights her skirt, kissing her softly on the temple. “Two AM,” I hear him whisper. “You can meet us in the resort lobby.”

She squeezes my cock like she doesn’t want to wait that long.

“Patience,” I purr.

“Finish your dessert,” Archer says, maneuvering to the far side of the booth and standing up. He’s just as hard, picking up some discarded napkins and dinner plates and adjusting them to hide his erection.

I take Becca’s hand from my pants and lift it to my mouth, kissing her knuckles like she’s a princess. “We hope your time at Flambé has been unforgettable.”

She looks at us both like she’s been hit by a freight train.

We were trained at Flambé to sell sex. Of course, they meant it in the form of erotic desserts and aphrodisiacs. They didn’t mean literal sex. We aren’t supposed to touch the customers like this. But I have zero regrets.

I use the discarded bell jar in the same way Archer is using the napkins and plates, and together we walk away from our wicked flower that’s just blossomed in the middle of the night.

“Do you think she’ll show up at two AM?” I ask Archer as we head toward the kitchen.

“Hard to tell,” he admits, glancing back to her booth. “If we were off work in an hour, I’d say yes. But three hours is a long time. She might have regrets.”

“That wild flower just pulled up her skirt and let us watch,” I growl under my breath. “She wants us to invite her into the bathroomright nowto finish the job.”

“And if you want to get us fired, go ahead and do that.” Archer’s warning comes with a hard frown. He’s worked at Flambé longer than me. He knows our boss Arie is pro-sex (seriously, she says the raunchiest things in staff meetings), but that doesn’t mean she wants her restaurant to be known as a brothel.

This is a dangerous game that Archer and I have been playing, betting each other to see how far a woman will let us get while we’re working. It started out simple: can you get a woman to let you feed her? Then we upped the ante to see if she’d let us kiss her or touch her. Eventually, we realized it worked better if we worked together.

But Archer’s right, we need to be careful.

However, after watching Becca come, it’s a virtue I’m gracelessly lacking. Archer was right when he said he had a hunch about her. All of the women we’ve tried to seduce have chickened out or left us their phone numbers in need of a safer, less public display. Even Becca wanted to leave Flambé.

“Patience, Finn,” Archer says with a devious grin, reading my mind about her hesitation. “Some flowers need to be cultivated. If she doesn’t show up at two AM, she’ll be back.”

I adjust my aching cock. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t,” he admits. “But that flower has felt what both of us are packing now, and she will only be haunted by the fact that she didn’t get to know what we’d ask for if our entire bodies were involved.”

“Fuck, I’m going to need a minute in the bathroom,” I growl, my cock throbbing. “I don’t know how you have the patience for this.”

“It’s called foreplay, Finn,” Archer says matter-of-factly. “Deny that girl your cock as long as you can, and she’s going to bloom into something ravishing.”

“Fifty bucks says she doesn’t show up tonight,” I say, doubtful. “And a hundred bucks says we never see her again.”

“Don’t bet against what you want,” Archer scolds, discarding his dishes in a bin. “I bet she will show up—eventually. And my terms are that when she does, you’re not allowed to touch her with your cock until I’ve enjoyed the fruits and you’ve watched.”

I roll my eyes. Hewouldmake an ultimatum like that.

“Trust me,” Archer says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You have no idea how good it will be when you have to wait.”

I hand him the bell jar I’ve been carrying and turn to the bathroom. “I might have some idea,” I toss at him, knowing I’m going to be using the image of his fingers inside Becca to deal with this massive erection. “Cover my tables, I need a minute.”

7

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