Page 24 of Baring it All (Men in Charge)

“Out, get the hell out.” I walk closer, keeping Stormy in front of me the entire time. No way am I letting her go right now. I’m liable to do something to the cunt in front of us, and then I’d be in jail. Never once have I wanted to hit a woman in my life. Laura has made me re-think it one too many times.

“You heard the man. I’m locking up. The bar is closed for the night.” Barbie comes around the bar, bat in her hand, and everyone scatters like cockroaches. I don’t move a muscle until the last person leaves, waiting for Barbie to lock the wood door, and when she does, I’ll take this a lot fucking further. I’m going to let Stormy know exactly the man I am. Taking care of her is as easy as breathing, and it’s time she realizes that. Tonight.

28

STORMY

“Strip, baby girl, now.” Griff lets go of me, moving until he’s standing in front of me, hands on his hips and a look in his eyes I can’t determine.

“Griff, I was going to tell you. Promise. I was trying to figure out how to open my books or ask for a job here at the bar.” My words don’t help the situation, not at all. Griff walks me toward me, one step forward from him is one step backward for myself. He doesn’t stop until my back meets the bar. His hand goes to my shirt. It appears if I’m not going to strip, he is going to do it for me.

“I don’t like that at all. You working more means less time for us. You give me a lot, baby girl. Let me help you.” My arms rise without hesitation, leaving me in my bra and skirt. A look that clearly Griff likes with the way he’s eyeing me up and down.

“Not enough, not nearly enough.” I feel like there are times I’m lacking bringing anything to the table, money especially.

“You give me a lot, and not in the financial aspect, because I give zero fucks about that. It’s the soft touches, the cooked dinners, the way you love Finn like he’s your own dog, and Stormy,”—his hand cups my cheek, thumb sliding over my lower lip as he continues— “the way you saydaddy. Fuck, it makes me come undone. You give me everything.”

“No, I don’t give you enough, but that’s how I feel. It’s not a reflection of you.” The words are bitter to admit even to my own ears.

“Then it’s time for me to show you just how much you give me. Clearly, words aren’t enough.” His hands grip my hips, lifting me up. A sense of déjà vu from the first time we were together in his bar hits me. “Up on the bar, and spread your legs while I eat your pussy,” he commands, fire in is tone. I know it’s killing him not to pick me up and do what he wants, but his shoulder needs to recover first. I unfasten the buttons of my jean skirt that are in a row down the middle, leaving me with my bra, panties, and shoes. I’m not taking my shoes off. No offense to Griff’s bar, but I know what people leave behind on the floors. As far as the bar top, it’s constantly sanitized.

“Griff,” I groan when I see him undo the button to his jeans. The hiss of his zipper is silent given the music is still playing in the background. What I don’t miss is his hard cock coming into view, long and thick. The tips of my fingers barely meet when I wrap them around him.

“Baby girl, you’re getting my mouth, but in order to do that, I need you on the bar.” It seems Griff is losing his patience, and I, for one, do not want to test him any longer. My hands go to the bar, using the ledge and my upper body until my ass lands on the wood counter. It’s cool to the touch. A hiss leaves my lips. “Been wanting you like this. Thought about it for a while now. Maybe you’ll realize you give me everything.” He pulls a barstool in front of where I’m sitting, hands going to the inside of my thighs. I obviously didn’t have them spread wide enough.

“I don’t know. It seems you may have to show me at least a few times.” He can’t really blame me, can he? The man has a way with working me over in the best possible way.

“Every single day, I’ll prove it to you, if that’s what it takes. Take your bra off,” he replies with another demand. My hand moves behind my back. The other stays on the bar top, holding myself up. “Good girl,” I’m praised when my bra drops down with a flick of the clasp. Griff’s hands slide up my thighs further, the tips of his fingers getting dangerously close to the edge of my panties only to pull away again.

“Please,” I beg when his head lowers, and he blows a breath of air along my center. The lace does nothing to shield the coolness that’s heating my fevered flesh.

“Please, what, baby girl?” His thumb hooks on the edge of the fabric, ripping it to the side and baring my pussy to his watchful eyes.

“Please, Daddy.” That’s all it takes. Griff’s head dips further, and I watch as he takes one long lick from the bottom to the top. His tongue swirls, lips wrapping around my clit and sucking on it. I lose my hold, eyes closing and hands giving way until I’m flat on my back. All the while, Griff keeps working my pussy. The man is obsessed. The groans he lets lose vibrate against my core, and it’s setting my world on fire. I’m trying to stay still even with the need to put my hand on the back of his head and flex my hips upward. I know better, though. Griff would stop. I’d lose the orgasm I’m barreling toward. He’d make me settle down, and only then would he work me up again.

“Oh God.” I need something. “More, please more,” I plead. Keeping my hands flat on the bar is killing me. There’s no purchase, nothing to squeeze or to clench my fingers around. I’m left feeling an emotional upheaval as my orgasm bubbles to the surface. Griff’s tongue slides inside my center, working it like he would with his cock, thumb going to my clit, rubbing it up, down, then side to side. My eyes clench shut, sweat coats my body, and I’m soaring, flying sky high with an intensity that only Griff can give me. It’s like an out-of-body experience, a floating sensation, and through it all, he doesn’t leave his place between my thighs. His pace slows down, licking and soothing me through the remnants of my orgasm until I’m no longer able to withstand any more. “Too much,” I murmur.

“You better prepare because you’re about to ride my cock next, baby girl.” He lifts his head, lips and chin slick with my wetness, but he doesn’t seem to care. I use my hands to lift my body up, more than ready to feel his hard length inside of me.

“You’re trying to kill me. I once again can’t feel my legs.” I’m greeted with a grin. His hands slide to my waist, pulling me until I’m closer to the edge of the bar. It takes all my might to maintain my balance while not giving Griff my weight with his shoulder in a sling.

“Are you saying you don’t want my cock?” He arches a brow. I shake my head in a vehement no. “That’s what I thought. I’ll help you down. Grip my good shoulder.” He guides me down, his length already out and ready, the head of his cock weeping with precum. I almost wish we had more room. I’d dip my head and take it with my tongue.

“Can I help?” I ask Griff, my hand wanting to wrap around his dick to guide inside me while I continue lowering myself.

“Yeah, baby girl, wrap your hand around daddy’s cock until the tip is inside, then hands to yourself.” His dominant side is always at the surface, but when it’s the two of us like this, there’s no holding himself back. My hand wraps around his smooth velvet length. Feeling it flex causes me to squeeze it once. “Fucking Christ,” he groans. My knees meet the leather of the barstool, old fashioned style where they have a back and a seat big enough to allow us the room to be in our current state.

“Daddy.” I do more than what he stated, coating his tip with my wetness. A low groan escapes.

“Hands off. Wrap them around my shoulder and hold the fuck on. You know what I like, baby girl,” he reiterates. His hands hold my hips, and I barely have enough time until he’s slamming me down and fucking his cock inside of me. All I can do is hold on and enjoy every moment with Griff taking me exactly how we like it.

29

STORMY

“Hey, Kitty, I’m out of here.” It’s been a few days since the night at the bar. After Griff had his way with me, we went home, where we talked and talked. Griff wasn’t having me working more, and honestly, he was right. Another swallow of my pride was admitting that I needed help. I put the ceremony on my credit card, paid off what I could with what was in my savings account, and Griff said he’d handle the rest. Mom wouldn’t let me give her the deposits back, which meant I had more to pay on my credit card. That was a fight for another day. My will to deal with much more was lackluster at best.

“Have a good rest of your day. See you tomorrow, honey.” I grab my purse from my chair after a successful day. My books are open to a few new clients, not only for the money either. Which Griff said I don’t need, but tell that to my independence. It worked out in the end, though. I lost a few clients, Melissa being one of them. It goes without saying I fired her from my book. Then another moved in with her family a few hours north, and another went back to college for the fall semester. That left me with room for three plus a few more while keeping my same hours. The plan to work weekends while Griff is away is now obviously out the window.

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