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“Don’t worry about that right now, Mama,” I tell her. George looks uncomfortable. Good. He should be. I just
hope he can manage not to treat Mama poorly for long enough that she can get used to being home again. The new meds seem like they’re working well, but there’s no telling when she’ll stop taking them, or whether George will re-fill the prescription when it runs out.
All of that, though, just has to be carefully monitored. Trying to predict and plan for it is pointless.
My phone chimes, and I take a quick peek in case it’s trouble at the restaurant, but instead it’s Jake.
“Want to get a drink?”
In the mix of emotions that well up, the more carnal ones are the loudest, and my cheeks heat up. A smile pulls the corner of my mouth up before I can suppress it, and when I put my phone away I see George watching me curiously. He drops his eyes when he meets mine, though. It’s refreshing that he hasn’t quite gotten back into full asshole mode just yet. Probably hard to do that when we both know he wasn’t able to take care of his own wife.
I’m sure it will pass, though. It always does.
A few minutes later, I can’t bring myself to wait anymore. So I kiss Mama on the forehead. “I have to get back,” I tell her. It’s a lie, but a small one, and she seems tired anyway. I look up at George. “Make sure she gets plenty of rest.”
George looks momentarily offended, but it gets smothered quickly before Mama can see it. “Of course I will,” he says quietly.
Mama’s watching us both, and she looks concerned. So I force myself to give George a brief hug—it isn’t pleasant for either of us, I can tell—and mutter a goodbye.
“Yes,” he says stiffly. “Have a… good afternoon.” It’s somewhere between a well-wish and an order, but maybe that’s as good as it’ll ever get.
On my way to the car, I text Jake back. “I’d love to. Can’t stay all day. One drink. Busy busy.”
I get back a winking smiley face from him, and can’t help but wonder if there’s some part of this plan I don’t know about. I kind of hope there is, and can’t help smiling the whole way back downtown.
I manage to make it almost a full fifteen minutes in the bar. At that point, Jake springs the surprise.
“So… I realize you’re busy but… the beach house is free for the next month or so.”
I level my eyes at him over the drink that I realize, after it arrives, I’m not terribly in the mood for. What I am in the mood for, the moment I lay eyes on Jake again, is to be back where we were a few days ago. Whatever distance he had before seems to be gone now, and just the suggestion of going back makes me blush.
But I have to do the responsible thing, right?
“We’re in the middle of preparations for the big launch party,” I tell him.
Not convincingly enough, though, to either of us. Already I’m mapping out the problem in my head. Lacey doesn’t really need more of my input on the dishes. We have them planned and all that’s left is to order, which is something I can do from anywhere. Chester has some plans for cocktails to pair with each dish, but there’s nothing in his playbook that we don’t already have behind the counter. Gloria isn’t causing any trouble lately—probably for fear of losing her job, and rightfully so. The bottles and labels have been designed, approved, and ordered. Do I really need to be there?
“You’ve done a lot of work on this hot sauce launch,” Jake says in that urging, cajoling way he has. “Surely you can take a little time off. Just today.”
I want to put up more of a fight, but he leans over and kisses my earlobe, and then my neck, and whatever defenses I have melt away like the rest of me.
“I… can probably send a few texts…” I struggle to say as he slides a hand up my thigh beneath the white tablecloth that covers our laps. “Jake…”
“Let’s go, baby,” he mutters quietly, as his fingers graze my clit through my panties.
And I’m beat. “Okay… yeah…”
He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound of approval as he tugs the edge of my panties down and gives me a gentle pinch and a few slow circles. No one’s staring, but I have this feeling like everyone here knows what’s happening to me. Somehow, I can’t bring myself to care.
Just before I make a real scene, Jake withdraws, and lays a hundred-dollar bill on the table. He doesn’t bother to ask for the check. Some waiter just had a lucky day. We make our way hastily out of the place and to Jake’s car, and then we’re off to paradise again.
It’s everything the last trip was and more. This time, I get my mouth on him first, kneeling between his knees while he reclines on the plush couch. Every time I feel his cock swell and begin to trickle, I give his heavy balls a tug, and grin at the sound of him gasping. I manage to keep him on the edge until he’s groaning my name and begging.
He tries to stop me when I’m ready for him to come. “I’m close, Janie. You gotta stop, babe,” he moans. He’s careful not to pull my hair, but there’s a tug. “Fuck… you’re gonna make me come…”
Which is the point. And the moment I swallow down the last spurt of it, I climb up and settle onto his lap.
The look on his face is priceless, his eyes wide and his mouth open. His body twitches as I envelop him, giving him a taste of his own medicine—he almost tries to wrestle me off him, he’s so sensitive now, but I have him pinned by the arms. Even though he could probably push me off if he really wanted to, he suffers through it while I ride him.
