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“Perhaps I should ask for the waiter to fetch a wooden spoon from the kitchen. What do you think?” asked Rob without taking his eyes off her.
Casey was mute, and all she could do was shake her head a little from side to side.
“Was that a no, Casey?” asked Rob, leaning down to put his lips next to her neck. There was his tantalising smell of gentle perspiration—a manly aroma of desire floating across to her—and it added to her trepidation. “I don’t remember you being allowed to say no to me. Not at this time of the day.”
The seconds ticked as Casey stayed rooted to the spot by her chair.
“Well, maybe my hand will do,” he smiled and tugged on her fingers. “Here, the chair is a perfect height to bend over, don’t you think?”
“Rob…” Casey’s voice croaked.
“Such a thrill we could provide to everyone here,” he whispered. “Your naked arse turned crimson, and the sound of it echoing around the room. The acoustics would work brilliantly.”
Casey glanced down at the chair and then back around the room. Still nobody had stirred or noticed them. Not even the corner of their eyes drifted over to where the couple stood holding their quiet conversation.
“My hand on your flesh, making you moan and burn for me,” said Rob, running a finger down her cheek. “Maybe a few decorative tears down your face, and a little running of the mascara. They might even pity you.” His head cocked at their fellow diners.
Casey’s hand grasped the chair to steady herself. Her desire had become so intense she actually found her feet moving a fraction towards the back of the chair. A very slight shuffle, and she had no idea where the command in her brain had come from. She could not control her body any longer, and the realisation that she had given herself so wholly to the man before her made her almost gasp aloud.
“Go on,” said Rob. “Lean over.”
Her feet seemed wired to his brain and not hers because they moved to behind her chair, and she found her waist pressing against the back of the chair. The seat below was plush blue velvet, and one of her hands began to drop down. As she moved, her dress rose up and her bottom was very close to being exposed. Her chair had its back to the wall, and it afforded her a modicum of privacy. Glancing up, she was amazed to see not a jot of curiosity from their fellow diners.
His hand climbed up her leg, and she quivered as it found a warm cheek. Fingers squeezed her flesh, forcing her to grab the chair to steady herself.
“Oh my,” she blurted out.
“Sweet Casey,” said Rob, “I bet you’re wet and ready to come for me now, aren’t you?”
Casey nodded her head very slightly. Never in her wildest dreams had she felt so turned on and filled with the yearning to come. Her legs wriggled, thighs pressed hard together, and she made a vain attempt to rest her sex on the chair edge, but it was too high up. She feared she was dripping down her legs and that her stockings would become drenched.
Rob’s arm reached out, pulling her upwards and towards his chest. As he did, his voice in its most sultry and delectable tone asked her once again, “Come for me, sweet Casey.”
Casey buried her mouth in his lapels and screamed the most silent of screams while Rob held her up in his arms. Her heels clicked on the floor once again as she gave a small stomp of delight at the magnitude of her body’s response to his words. His hand stroked down her back, and she shivered uncontrollably as her body rippled with tiny contractions of her muscles. A solitary tear left her eye and landed on his shirt.
When it was over, Casey steadying herself on her feet and saw Rob begin to slip down onto one knee. His hand reached into his jacket pocket. The surprise on Casey’s face as he lowered himself at her feet was one she wished had been captured on camera to keep for prosperity.
“Casey, my darling girl, my love,” he said with as much clarity as he could muster, “please do me the honour of being my wife.”
The room now was silent and had been since Casey’s little performance had reached its peak. All about them, the diners had laid down their knives and forks and their wine glasses and napkins and had swivelled around to watch Rob give his proposal. The room was held in silence, waiting for her response.
Her hand went to her mouth to hide her cry. A small sound of extreme surprise and pure joy.
“Oh yes, Rob!” she said, and Rob slipped the ring onto her outstretched finger.
About the room a cheer went up, and there was much applause as the couple engaged in a long embrace and kiss. Back on his feet, Rob swept her up into his arms, and she clung to him as he uttered words of thanks between his kisses. Finally the room calmed, and the guests all began to rise to approach
the couple.
“Congratulations, Rob,” said the first man to reach their table. His hand was held out, and Rob beamed as he shook it.
The deep tone of the voice was one Casey recognised—one of her mysterious finger puppet masters. Then she realised everyone in the room knew Rob. Each came forward to offer the couple their congratulations, and the last man to come forward had been virtually hiding at the back of the room with his female partner. His back to the proceedings, he had turned at the last moment.
“Mac,” said Rob. “Glad you could come.”
“Wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” said Rob’s friend and confidante.
Casey had to sit down, so overwhelmed was she by her frayed emotions. She discovered that Rob had booked the room for a private function and all of the people present were his friends and quite aware of the nature of his relationship with Casey.
