Read Online Town of Two Women (9781101612125) by J.r. Roberts - Free Book Online Page B

cooking.”
    â€œThe cook’s gone,” she said.
    â€œWhat happens if somebody comes in and wants to eat?” he asked.
    â€œThen I cook.”
    â€œExpecting anybody?” he asked.
    She walked to the front doors, locked them, turned the sign hanging there so that it said CLOSED on the outside, then pulled the shades down. Then she turned to look at him, her hands behind her back.
    â€œI was expecting you.”
    â€œWere you?”
    She nodded, walked toward him. She took her hands from behind her back and put them against his chest.
    â€œAre you going to see Gina tonight?” she asked.
    â€œProbably not.”
    â€œGood.” She leaned in and kissed him, She smelled of fried foods and something else. He grabbed her, kissed her back. “I don’t like to share.”
    â€œMe neither,” he said.
    Her body was solid inside her cheap dress. He took her apron off, lifting it over her head. She kept her hands up, so he followed with the dress. She was naked underneath. The smell of her sweat came from her armpits, not unpleasant. Her breasts were full, with heavy undersides and dark nipples. The tangle of hair between her thighs was darker than the blond hair on her head. He pulled away the ribbon that held it at the back of her neck, and her long hair fell free.
    He put his arms around her, enjoying the solid feel of her against his body. Her skin was hot as he pulled her closer and kissed her again, mashing her breasts up against his chest.
    She moaned into his mouth as his hands traveled down her back and cupped her buttocks. One of her hands slid between them, cupping his crotch. What she found there interested her.
    She broke the kiss, pushed him back until the backs of his thighs banged against a table. He sat on it awkwardly, and she unbuttoned his pants and freed his hard penis. She stroked it with one hand, pulled on it, then went for his gun belt. He pushed her hands away and removed it himself, laid it within arm’s reach. He let her do the rest, until she was on her knees in front of him, and his trousers and shorts were pooled around his ankles. She took his cock in her mouth and lovingly sucked it. She rubbed his thighs and his calves while continuing to suckle him, making wet sounds as her mouth moved up and down on him.
    Eventually he put his hands beneath her arms and lifted her to her feet. He turned, set her down on the table, spread her thighs, and pressed his penis against her. He rubbed it along her wet slit, and then entered her quickly, cleanly.
    She gasped, clutched him to her with her arms, and wrapped her legs around his waist. As he pumped his cock into her, the table jumped beneath them, and neither of them saw the eyes that were peering at them from beneath the shade . . .
    *   *   *
    Harley Trace watched as Clint Adams fucked the waitress—what was her name? Amy, yeah, that was it. It looked to him like the table they were on wasn’t going to hold. He was waiting for it to fall apart beneath them.
    He took his eyes from the window, looked around to be sure nobody was watching him. There were some women across the street, walking, so he had to move before they saw him.
    He left the front of the café, crossed the street, found a doorway, and waited there . . .
    *   *   *
    â€œOh, Jesus,” Amy said into his ear.
    â€œWhat?”
    She laughed.
    â€œI think I got a splinter in my ass.”
    â€œWant me to stop?”
    â€œOh, God, no,” she said, raking his back with her nails.
    He slid his hands beneath her ass, between her and the wooden table, to keep her from getting another splinter, and continued to fuck her. Her breath came hard in his ears, sweet puffs of air. She was sweating, but it was different from the perspiration that had already dried on her. This felt different, smelled different . . . when he licked her shoulders, and the slopes of her breasts,