and fuck her senseless.
She smiled up at him, sweet, tender and totally his
Chrissy, and he fought for control. He was being stupid. She was feeling good
about herself—sexy. He wanted her to feel that way. She just wanted to go out
for a drink and a bite to eat. He was the one who almost had the affair, not
her. There wasn’t anything wrong with her getting a little attention for a
change. He still hated it.
The elevator door dinged, and Jack pulled her up tight
against him, bending to catch her earlobe between his teeth. She rewarded him
with a soft gasp and the slight tremor that ran through her body.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back upstairs and
order room service?”
“Just one drink.” He heard her stomach growl, and she
giggled. “And a quick bite.” He leaned in again, and she pulled back. “Not that
kind of bite!”
“Fine, but that means I’m going to do it twice as hard
later.” Leering at her in a way he hoped was wolfish and not like a scary old
man, he draped his arm across her shoulders and led her off the elevator. He
planned on keeping his hands on her the entire time they were out in public.
That way no one would wonder who she came with and more importantly who she’d
be leaving with.
“I’m counting on it,” she said and turned toward the
bar.
Dark wood paneling covered the walls and candles lit
the small scattered tables. The room was full, but it was too opulent to be
crowded even on a Saturday night.
“Can we sit at the bar?”
Jack let her lead them away from the cozy dark table
for two he’d been aiming for and toward a pair of stools at the bar. He gritted
his teeth as he watched the bartender’s smile brighten when he looked at
Christine. She returned his smile and then perched on the edge of stool almost
leaning against it instead of sitting. It occurred to him that she might be
trying to accommodate the clip that was holding her sweet little clit and his
cock shot back to full attention. Christ.
“What can I get you, darling?” The bartender’s voice
had a slight lilt and Jack moved closer to his wife and glared.
“My wife.” Jack emphasized the word. “Will have a
scotch and soda and a menu. I’ll take a Killians draft.” He glanced at
Christine to make sure she was okay with the drink choice and she nodded. He
couldn’t hide his smug smile. He knew her; she was his.
“Coming right up.”
The bartender turned to fix their drinks and Jack
swiveled Christine to face him. He rested his foot on the rung of her
barstools, protectively capturing her with his thigh.
“Are you sore, baby?” he murmured against her ear. “We
could still go back upstairs.”
“Not sore,” she said softly. “Just very aware and very
wet.”
Resting his forehead against hers, Jack fought back a
groan.
“You’re killing me here.”
“Jack! Don’t be silly.” She smiled at him, mischief
lighting her eyes.
He snatched up her hand and held it to his cock which
was hard as steel again and straining against the fabric of his pants.
Thankfully, the dim light hid most of what happened under the bar, but Jack
didn’t care. He couldn’t think about anything but getting Christine upstairs
and pulling those little jeweled clips off with his teeth. Her eyes went wide
when she felt how hard he was and even wider when the bartender set their
drinks in front of them and cleared his throat so he could hand her the menu.
“If you’re hungry, darling, there’re more choices on
the back. I’ll give you a minute to decide what you want.” He winked at
Christine before turning away, and she blushed red as a rose. She pulled her
hand off of Jack and her shoulders slumped a bit.
Jack didn’t want some smarmy bartender flirting with
his wife, but more than that, he didn’t want Christine to feel bad about
herself or uncomfortable with her sexual power.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, lifting her chin with his
finger. “You’re gorgeous, baby. Men are going to want
She smiled up at him, sweet, tender and totally his
Chrissy, and he fought for control. He was being stupid. She was feeling good
about herself—sexy. He wanted her to feel that way. She just wanted to go out
for a drink and a bite to eat. He was the one who almost had the affair, not
her. There wasn’t anything wrong with her getting a little attention for a
change. He still hated it.
The elevator door dinged, and Jack pulled her up tight
against him, bending to catch her earlobe between his teeth. She rewarded him
with a soft gasp and the slight tremor that ran through her body.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back upstairs and
order room service?”
“Just one drink.” He heard her stomach growl, and she
giggled. “And a quick bite.” He leaned in again, and she pulled back. “Not that
kind of bite!”
“Fine, but that means I’m going to do it twice as hard
later.” Leering at her in a way he hoped was wolfish and not like a scary old
man, he draped his arm across her shoulders and led her off the elevator. He
planned on keeping his hands on her the entire time they were out in public.
That way no one would wonder who she came with and more importantly who she’d
be leaving with.
“I’m counting on it,” she said and turned toward the
bar.
Dark wood paneling covered the walls and candles lit
the small scattered tables. The room was full, but it was too opulent to be
crowded even on a Saturday night.
“Can we sit at the bar?”
Jack let her lead them away from the cozy dark table
for two he’d been aiming for and toward a pair of stools at the bar. He gritted
his teeth as he watched the bartender’s smile brighten when he looked at
Christine. She returned his smile and then perched on the edge of stool almost
leaning against it instead of sitting. It occurred to him that she might be
trying to accommodate the clip that was holding her sweet little clit and his
cock shot back to full attention. Christ.
“What can I get you, darling?” The bartender’s voice
had a slight lilt and Jack moved closer to his wife and glared.
“My wife.” Jack emphasized the word. “Will have a
scotch and soda and a menu. I’ll take a Killians draft.” He glanced at
Christine to make sure she was okay with the drink choice and she nodded. He
couldn’t hide his smug smile. He knew her; she was his.
“Coming right up.”
The bartender turned to fix their drinks and Jack
swiveled Christine to face him. He rested his foot on the rung of her
barstools, protectively capturing her with his thigh.
“Are you sore, baby?” he murmured against her ear. “We
could still go back upstairs.”
“Not sore,” she said softly. “Just very aware and very
wet.”
Resting his forehead against hers, Jack fought back a
groan.
“You’re killing me here.”
“Jack! Don’t be silly.” She smiled at him, mischief
lighting her eyes.
He snatched up her hand and held it to his cock which
was hard as steel again and straining against the fabric of his pants.
Thankfully, the dim light hid most of what happened under the bar, but Jack
didn’t care. He couldn’t think about anything but getting Christine upstairs
and pulling those little jeweled clips off with his teeth. Her eyes went wide
when she felt how hard he was and even wider when the bartender set their
drinks in front of them and cleared his throat so he could hand her the menu.
“If you’re hungry, darling, there’re more choices on
the back. I’ll give you a minute to decide what you want.” He winked at
Christine before turning away, and she blushed red as a rose. She pulled her
hand off of Jack and her shoulders slumped a bit.
Jack didn’t want some smarmy bartender flirting with
his wife, but more than that, he didn’t want Christine to feel bad about
herself or uncomfortable with her sexual power.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, lifting her chin with his
finger. “You’re gorgeous, baby. Men are going to want
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