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“Fuuuuuuck,” Lyle drew out a low and slow curse and bit his bottom lip.
Penny had dropped her head, face burning.
“And shoving another in your throat at the same time, it’s fucking plastic, Penny, what the hell do you think-”
“What woman wouldn’t fantasize about more than one dick, if the one she’s getting isn’t good enough?” Sophie piped up.
All the men stared at her.
“Come on, you should be treating her like your queen, you should be her number one fan, she is your altar, your addiction, you should worship her. You should want her with every fiber of your being, and she would reward you for that with her heat and her wetness, her hopes and her dreams…”
“Damn, fuck,” Lyle muttered.
Penny looked to Sophie, eyes full of a wistful, lost hope, and sobbed. Sophie wanted to come out from behind the counter and give her a hug. Penny was not the kind of woman Sophie would normally have gravitated toward, they would never have crossed paths, never could have found common ground. And yet, in this, they were immediately united. Sophie gave Penny a small nod of solidarity, and was about to come around from the back of the counter. Ash got there first. He put his hand under Penny’s chin, bringing her face up. He looked into her face, square on.
“Never let anyone tell you who or what you can fuck. You fuck what you like, sweetheart, you want more than one dick, that’s fine, don’t be ashamed of that, and never apologize for it.” Penny blinked up at him. The intensity of their gazes was almost physical, like a string being tied between them.
Pete broke the moment. “Well, if you think you’re getting money from this divorce-”
Sophie felt riled. “I think she was clear it wasn’t about the money-”
“Butt out, diner girl!” Pete said angrily at Sophie. Sophie raised her eyebrows.
The bikers looked to Pete Rafferty as if he had just committed the most heinous of crimes.
“And I’m not dragging myself through the mud for you, Penny, what reasons are you going to give for why you want this, huh? I’d reject any opinions that I’m in the wrong here-”
“I don’t care what I have to do or say, I’m getting this divorce.”
“You gonna commit adultery, huh? That’s the only way I think you could swing it-” Pete goaded her. He obviously thought she wouldn’t, she couldn’t.
For a split second, it looked as though she was about to cry. Her chin trembled, her eyes watered. But then she stood up tall, eyed the room around her, her gaze caught on the bikers. She strode forward, and grabbed Lyle by the lapels of his leather. Then, she puckered up and planted a big, wet smooch on his lips.
His eyes were wide with surprise. Then half-hooded. He caught her wrists firmly in his hands, pulled her closer, and opened his mouth. They both groaned with need.
Surprise flitted across Penny’s face now.
Sophie swallowed. Their kiss was pretty hot. Suddenly raw, suddenly desperate and ravenous. She leaned into the counter, angling her hips slightly, so that there was the slightest pressure on her clit through her trousers. Everyone in the room shamelessly watched the kiss. It escalated, Lyle and Penny locked together, eyes closed, tongues flicking, kissing with reckless, wild abandon.
Pete looked pissed. But not heart-broken, Sophie noted. Not devastated and distraught, as a husband should look if his wife openly kissed another man. Sophie sided with Penny here.
Pete Rafferty cleared his throat theatrically. Penny and Lyle disconnected, staring at each other.
“Oh, big wow, you kissed another man-” Rafferty began. “One kiss does not a divorce make, sweetheart.”
“Big wow? Since when are we in the third grade?” Colt commented. Sophie loved that these bikers were not at all put out by this sudden change in pace. They were loving it, enjoying
the show.
Lyle tossed his hair out of his face and purred. “Come here again, baby, I’ll give you want you want and more. You wanna get knocked up? You wanna have a big cock pounding you, you wanna explore your fantasies-”
“Oh please, how cliché!” Pete laughed.
Lyle looked past Penny to Pete. “Ten inches, fuckwad.”
Sophie blinked. “Ten inches?”
Pete frowned. “Ten inches?”
