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She inhales sharply.
I move the warm, thin material to the side and position the vibrator next to her entrance.
"Tynan—"
"Take a deep breath and relax, baby girl," I order.
She hesitates, then inhales deeply.
I instruct, "Now slowly let it out."
She obeys.
I push the vibrator in.
She gasps, her mouth turning into a sexy O.
When I'm assured it's positioned where I want it, I pull my hand out from under her dress, then slide my finger into her mouth. I command, "Suck."
She follows my orders perfectly.
My erection hardens. I remind myself I have the entire night to get what I want.
Ever since I took her the wrong way, I've been dying for a redo with her. Tonight, I'm going to have it. And I want everything to be perfect.
A wave of nerves passes through me, and I tell myself to stop being a pussy.
Nothing's fucking tonight up.
She's going to beg for me.
I'm home in the city where I feel best. My young, sexy wife is next to me. We're going to one of my favorite places, and before the night's over, she's going to plead for me to take her.
I remove my finger from her mouth, praising, "Good lass."
She slowly licks her lips, then nervously asks, "Is this supposed to do something, or does it just sit inside me?"
I refrain from chuckling so I don't embarrass her. It's all over her expression, and although I think it's adorable how she's so naive, I don't want her to be self-conscious about asking me things. So I reply, "You'll see, sunshine."
She bites on her lip, and the car stops. I glance out the window just in time. I open the car door, get out, and reach for her. She takes my hand, and I pull her out of the car, quickly guiding her through the heavy wooden door and into the restaurant.
Debbie, the hostess, strokes a lock of her blonde hair and chirps, "Tynan. It's been a long time. How've you been?"
Maeve stiffens next to me.
I pull her closer to me and gruffly answer, "Yeah, it has been a long time. My wife and I are hungry. I assume our space at the counter is ready?"
Debbie looks surprised at first, then her face falls. She glances at Maeve.
My wife lifts her chin and locks her eyes with Debbie. She holds up her hand with her wedding rings and sharply states, "Yea. I'm his wife. He's off the market, so feel free to tell whoever else needs to know."
Debbie's face turns the color of a tomato. She stutters, "I-I-I don't—"
"Don't try to play dumb with me," Maeve warns.
Shit. I don't need her getting jealous over some bimbo I was with years ago.
I tug my wife closer and say, "Looks like our space is free. Mind if we sit down?"
