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“Kipp,” he says seriously.
“Yeah?”
He licks his lips. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Okay?”
He opens his mouth, but I don’t catch a word he says because, at that precise moment, a waitress sets a plate down on the table next to ours. My gaze zeroes in on that plate. On the steak topped with…
“Oh no,” I mutter, my stomach rolling. Shrimp. “Oh no, oh no.”
Teddy freezes mid-sentence, his words about “wondering if” coming to an abrupt halt.
“Sorry,” I say quickly, pushing out of my seat. “Excuse me.”
I hurry toward the back of the restaurant, mortified about my hasty escape and praying I’m not about to lose the contents of my stomach. Again. Luckily, the sensation has mostly passed by the time I reach the restrooms. I still lock myself in a stall, breathing deeply for a few minutes to make sure I’m steady. Before I leave, I splash water on my face. It helps cool me down.
When I get back to the table, Teddy is looking down at his folded hands. He eyes me warily as I take a seat.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, careful to avoid looking at the table next to ours. “I saw a certain horrible crustacean and got a little…”
I wave toward my stomach, and Teddy’s eyes widen.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I wave him off. “Yeah, fine.”
“Shit, I thought…” He shakes his head, not finishing his sentence.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says, giving me a smile. I don’t have time to pester him further before our meals arrive. Perfectly free of shrimp, thank you.
Two minutes later, with a mouth full of heavenly ribeye, I groan. “My God. This is the shit. Best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
Teddy’s lips twitch. “The best?”
“Don’t go fishing, Teddy. You know there’s no comparison when it comes to your cock.”
“I hate to point it out,” he says quietly, “but you’ve never actually had my cock in your mouth.”
I still, said mouth popping open. “Holy…” I cycle back through every sexual encounter Teddy and I have had, from early morning handies and frot sessions, to him taking me apart methodically and fucking my fist or, more recently and notably, my ass. Which, Hallelujah and thank you, Jesus.
He’s had my cock in his mouth, but is he right? Have I never given him a blowie? I know I offered, but the man has a tendency to take charge, and all cognitive thought goes pft.
“Teddy,” I hiss, a mixture of outraged and turned on. “We need to rectify this. Like, now.”
“You’re not blowing me under the table,” he retorts calmy.
“I wasn’t suggesting that, but damn, now it’s in my head.”
He chuckles, and I whimper. I shift in my seat as I chew another bite of steak.
“In the car?” I offer.
“No.”
“Bathroom?”
