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Twenty minutes later, I’m ready. “Lead the way,” I say firmly to the young woman.
“You got it,” she grins.
* * *
The dining room is lovely. Two walls are glass. The ceiling is peaked, all giant rustic, wooden beams, and the table is glossy wood with a forest green river of epoxy runny down the middle. A chandelier of glass baubles hangs over the table. It’s rustic, yet modern, somehow seeming to blend both the ruggedness of the bartender with the refinement of the Britt. Nema leads me into the room then backs away as I stop, my mouth hanging open in awe at the view. Both men stand from the table, the bartender rushing to halt in front of me. “May I?” he asks, glancing at my wrists.
“Sure,” I hold up my forearms for inspection.
“How do you feel this morning?” He asks casually, his tone belying his tense posture. His forehead is furrowed as he gently clasps my fingers, rotating my arms slowly as his eyes travel over every scrape.
“Hi. I’m Whitney. We haven’t been officially introduced. To answer your question, I feel fantastic.” I sneak a glance at Tanner. Bartender’s posture visibly relaxes at my answer. Tanner mouths two words.
“Good girl.” He’s groomed to perfection. His blond gleams with glints of copper in the morning light and his brilliant blue eyes sparkle. Whatever problem he had with last night’s activities seems to have dissipated in the night. Wet heat blooms between my legs as Tanner peruses the thin, red silk robe I’m wearing. He lifts an eyebrow, jerking his head as if to tell me to get on with it.
“Well,” I ask, withdrawing my hands.
The bartender rubs a hand over his black hair, mussing the already mussed to perfection peaks. “Lawson,” he says. How is it he sounds both hungry and shy?
“Are you ready for the next round?” Barely able to tamp down my glee at his shocked expression. A quick dart of my eyes at Tanner shows he fully approves. Lawson’s mouth drops open. I put a hand on his chest and lift myself up to whisper in his ear. “Do you remember your words?”
“I . . . Yes, but,” he stammers as I saunter past him. “Then let’s have breakfast. It’s your turn to watch,” I toss over my shoulder, walking past him.
Tanner pushes his chair back, an absolutely salacious grin on his face. My hips swish as my heels tap across the wood floor. Tanner’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips. In the ten steps it takes me to reach him, his Montana sky eyes darken into a Pacific storm. He wants me, and that knowledge fills me with confidence. I stop in front of him, leaning over, letting my loosely tied robe drop and give a view of my breasts. Running the back of my fingers down his cheek, I ask, “Do you remember your words?”
He swallows hard. “I do.”
“Do you wish to negotiate this round?” I keep waiting for one of them to stop me, to take back control, but neither of them do.
“I wish for this round to be the lady’s choice,” he musters a response, perfectly enunciating in his crisp accent.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” I reach for his belt buckle, my voice husky and dripping with need. My fingers tremble, but I make quick work of his belt, button, and zipper. His trousers are bulging and my mouth waters. I slide my fingers into his waistband and he obliges, lifting his hips off the chair just long enough for me to slide his pants and boxer briefs down.
Good God. The man has a beautiful cock. He isn’t packing Lawson’s girth, but he might win if they slapped them on the table and got out a ruler. Nestled in a well-groomed thatch of darker blond hair, his ramrod straight member twitches in anticipation.
I want him in my mouth. I planned on giving him the classiest blow job I could manage, but all my plans fly out the window as I stare at the length of pleasure rising like a tower between his Adonis belt to rest on his surprisingly cut abdomen. I step out of my heels, my last rational thought despite spending the last year in the gym, my thighs have not been tested to maintain the kind of squat a blow job of this maginitude requires. My eyes dart up and meet his. He slides forward an inch. Reaching back, he grips the top rail with both hands.
The action is a clear invitation. I lower myself down to my knees and grip the top of one thigh with one hand and wrap my hand around his cock with the other, pulling it back to meet my ruby red lips.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a dick in my mouth. I can’t recall if I’ve ever wanted to perform oral sex as much as I do right now. I don’t hesitate. I don’t take any tiny licks. I just open my jaw and go for it. He smells clean and fresh, like mountain air and male musk. Desire is a heady perfume, and the freedom to give in while feeling safe is powerful. I sink down, almost to my head before I feel myself start to gag. Tanner hisses. My eyes fly open. His head falls back and he moans.
“Law,” he groans. “Her mouth is so fucking soft it’s unbelievable.”
Another rush of heat flares in my lower abdomen as my core clenches. I never knew I had a type, let alone two. I work his shaft until spit is running over my fingers, and then I use that to start gently working the base. His hips begin to move. I tell my throat to relax as tears begin to gather in my eyes. As I my throat opens and I take him deeper, I pause.
He sits up, sliding a hand through my hair and pulling me with him. His fingers curl and grip, pulling my hair tight against my scalp as he takes control, plunges his cock into my throat. Precum slides across my tongue and damned if I’m not hungry for it.
I wonder if I’ll be able to swallow what he gives me.
My plans for a classy blow job and strip tease are out the window and I don’t care. He’s grunting, fucking my mouth like he’s fought to win it. Tears are flowing freely down my face, my nostrils flaring like a chameleon as I suck in air whenever I can. This isn’t pretty like I imagined. Instead, it’s real and raw and so fucking hot I think I might come without anyone ever having touched my cunt.
“Sit down,” Tanner barks, abruptly pulling my head back. I almost fall back to my ass, but I realize the command was not directed at me. He’s speaking to Lawson. I’m desperate to turn around and look at him.
“I want to see him,” I whisper plaintively.
Tanner grips my hair tighter. “We might be able to arrange that in another round. But I want your eyes on me in this one,” he growls. He reaches up with one hand and loosens his tie. Does my fancy Brit look disheveled? Did I do this to him? The realization reminds me who is supposed to be in control of this round.
“My eyes, my everything, are only for you,” I breathe. I grip his wrist and squeeze. He lets go of my hair, looking faintly confused, but eager for whatever is next. I slide the robe over my shoulders, baring my breasts, and then I straddle him. I glide over his wet cock, shuddering as every veiny ridge hits my desperate bundle of nerves. “I want to fuck you now.” I draw my index finger down his jaw and slant my face over his. My tongue darts out, licking the top of his lip.
