Page 77
“You don’t talk like that about my girl. You’re my lady now. Okay? New start. You and me.”
“New start?” I press back into him and feel one of his hands shift. It slides down my back. To my hip. Between my thighs. I moan softly and press back, looking for his touch, wanting his strong, insistent fingers inside of me again.
He doesn’t disappoint. “Are you going to shoot?”
“I can run the table, if you don’t mind watching?”
Lazarus looks around us. I hear his belt jingle right before his hard cock nestles between my cheeks, skimpy thong pulled to the side.
“I love this show. Run it, baby.”
SHE’S NOT A LADY, SHE said. She’s better than a lady. She’s incredible.
Victoria lines up shots and sinks balls, and that’s half the entertainment. The other half is her sweet pink center splitting around my fingers, stretching and making her groan softly when I burrow in deep or press straight down, finding the spots that make her shudder and squeeze.
Nothing could be seen by anyone else, if anyone else were down here. Just a guy who loves the view of his girl bending over. The view of his dark gray cock snuggling between her perfect, petite cheeks.
But like I said, from the front or the side, all anyone can see is that I’m standing way too close, and that Victoria is an amazing pool player. She grunts, squeaks, and shivers (on my fingers, not that they can see that), but she doesn’t miss a shot.
That kind of concentration is probably what made her a goal-oriented escort who always pleased her clients and, later, a fearless, reckless assassin.
Suddenly, I want to mess up all those steely nerves, ruin every ounce of mental focus.
I want to turn my Vic into a screaming, clawing, wildcat on my cock.
“Last ball,” Victoria breathes out. She pulls back, and so do my fingers.
The cue slips forward with a soft swish and click, and my fingers slip home, deep in her pussy, slick fluid gushing around my knuckles and dripping onto my thumb as I work her hard clit.
Victoria’s legs tremble as I change my stance, no longer “casually” standing behind her, but now over top of her. I lean down, chest to her back, one hand coming forward to stroke her soft breast and keep it from being pressed into the unyielding red felt of the table.
“Good game. Impressive,” I whisper, kissing her ear, collapsing on her. “Those were some amazing shots. Definitely worthy of some kind of reward.”
She doesn’t speak, just pants as my fingers fly.
“If someone couldn’t come down and walk in on us, Victoria, I’d get down on my knees behind you, and lick that sweet pussy until you were gushing all over my face.”
“I don’t—”
“I know you don’t need that. I want that. Don’t you want that, to have a man who wants to spoil you with pleasure, who cares about what you like? Do you like when I drink your juice, baby?” I push for answers, knee grinding her clit now, lifting her a little so that her feet don’t reach the floor. I’m in control—but she’s safe. She’ll always be safe as long as I’m in existence.
“Unnn!” Victoria lets out a ragged moan that would tell anyone and everyone that she just came on my hand, came in a public place with my fingers buried in her slit, her juice all over my knee and my hand.
I haul her up, lick my fingers, and smash my mouth to hers in a kiss.
Be good, be good, be good. This is a date. Not some hard fuck with a succubi you’ll never see again.
Victoria doesn’t seem to mind my adrenaline-fueled style of courting. “So hard.” Her lips move on mine while she strokes my cock insistently. “You made me come. When do I get to return the favor?”
“Not in here.” Even though it’s deserted, I know we could be interrupted, and I don’t want that.
“I think if we went into that little hall by the restrooms, we could—”
“Gavin, let’s play before we get in the car!”
I hastily turn Victoria around and press my front to her back as two of the college kids from upstairs invade our private party.
“One game. Then we’re going. It’s gonna snow.” Gavin scowls at the cute bundle of baggy sweats and a dark green hoodie who’s with him.
