“I thought you were a flasher in that coat,” I said, trying to calm my rapid breathing so that his smug smile wouldn’t get any wider. Maybe I should hit him again.
“I can flash you later if you want. But right now I want to see what size vibrating butt plug you’re planning to get.”
“Very funny,” I said, still trying to recover from the shock of seeing him here. “I was trying to see if there were any more choices of toys with detached remotes.”
“All right, we’ll save the more extreme stuff for later,” he said, and this time, I did try to smack him again, but he caught my wrist and held my hand down, slipping his other arm around me. Together, we wandered back over to the slightly tamer vibrating toy section.
“Where’d you park?”
“Around the side of the hardware store. How about this one?” he said, holding up a large peach-colored egg that boasted of ‘authentic feeling of skin’. Why was an egg supposed to have a realistic skin feeling?
“Too weird.”
“This one?”
“Too pink.” No way was I putting anything neon inside of me. “I’m still surprised to see you here. I thought I had to do this all on my own.”
“I wouldn’t leave you alone in an adult toy store,” he said. “You might get flashed by a strange man in a trench coat.”
“Oh, like it was much safer making me play in my underwear in a public restroom?”
Ian grinned. “You weren’t alone there, either.”
“What? You were there? Where were you?”
“Right outside the door of the women’s room.”
“Really? Why?”
“To make sure no one else went in.”
I couldn’t believe it. He’d really been outside that whole time? But it’d been such a big restroom, I probably wouldn’t have heard a marching band on the other side of the door. “Did anyone try to come in?”
“One woman with two little kids.”
“And you stopped her? What’d you tell her?”
“That it was closed for repairs and there was a family restroom a few stores down.”
“How’d you know where one was?”
“I didn’t,” he said, a crooked grin on his face. I didn’t know whether to scold him for sending that woman on a wild goose chase or whether to enjoy this playful, teasing, sexy side of my husband. I hadn’t seen it in a long time.
Still ... I should probably go with female solidarity here. “That poor woman.”
“Hey, she didn’t come back, so maybe there really was a family restroom over there.”
“Or maybe she thought you were a pervert hanging out in front of the women’s room.”
“Yeah, and the big tent in my pants from hearing you moan probably didn’t help me seem any more legitimate.”
“As I said—a big ol’ pervert.” I was teasing but also a little pleased to know that my audio efforts had turned him on that much.
“Yeah, but at least I’m your pervert. And you’re mine. So let’s pick you out a remote-controlled toy.”
Chapter 11
WE ENDED UP getting a medium-sized vibrating egg with a separate remote. And now I was in yet another women’s room, this time at a casual restaurant on the far side of town. I fervently hoped that no one we knew was venturing out in this area today.
As quickly as possible, I washed the egg in the sink, ready to cover it in paper towels if anyone walked in. This time Ian was not guarding the door, unfortunately. Drying it off, I refused to look at myself in the mirror. The thought of playing with my sexy hubby in public was exciting, but it also made me feel a little foolish. I couldn’t quite look my embarrassed reflection in the eye.
In the privacy of the stall, the egg slid inside me with relative ease. Once it reached a certain point, it was fairly comfortable, and I could barely feel it. At least while it was off.
Walking back to the table, I felt embarrassed, yes, but also sexy. The slight pressure deep inside me was a reminder of what would happen once we got home. Plus, I got a little thrill out of knowing I was following my husband’s wicked orders, right here in the middle of the restaurant. I liked that we had this naughty secret together.
Ian stared at me as I got closer to him. He looked so hot, with his chocolate button-down shirt outlining his strong physique.
In my car on the way over, we’d wondered about the range of the remote. We got our answer now as I moved toward Ian. One moment, I was walking normally and the next moment, the egg inside me began pulsing on a low setting.
I paused, mid-stride, and Ian’s grin widened. He must've had it on since before I returned from the restroom, waiting for me to walk into range. Cautiously, I started moving again, worrying that everyone in the restaurant was staring at me, which of course, they weren’t.
Ian got up when I reached the table, ostentatiously to pull my chair out for me. But then he leaned in, his lips against my ear, his hand on my hip, and whispered, “How do you feel?”
“Turned on,” I admitted.
He looked amused. “And here I thought I’d only turned on the toy. But somehow I turned you on as well. Two for one,” he said with a grin.
“I’m not remote-controlled.” I said.
“We’ll just see about that,” he whispered, and then pushed my chair in as I sat down.
It turned out to be an interesting meal. Not the food—I’m not entirely sure what I ate. I knew what I wanted to eat, though. And that was my husband. Every lickable inch of him.
The vibrating toy inside me kept me hot and bothered throughout the whole meal. Ian had his thumb on the dial inside his pocket, and he wielded his power with wicked timing. Sometimes he’d turn it off completely. Other times he’d leave it on at a low intensity. And sometimes he’d push it up to a higher setting when I least expected it—like when I’d just opened my mouth to order my meal from the waiter.
From the male waiter, of course. Ian seemed to get a kick out of increasing the vibrations whenever another man was nearby. What’d he think, that this would be less embarrassing for me to be enjoying good vibrations in front of a woman?
Overall, I didn’t think the pressure was enough to push me over the edge into an orgasm. For that, I’d need something stroking my clit or Ian inside me. But it was definitely enough to keep me turned on. It made me want to jump my husband right then and there. I couldn’t wait for this evening.
And he knew it, too. The smug look on his face intensified whenever my breathing grew rapid and my voice became less than steady. This pleased him greatly, and he’d ask me questions and chide me when I lost track of our conversation.
After we finished our meal, Ian looked at me with an innocent smile. “You didn’t eat very much. You seemed distracted.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I said, determined to show him I could take whatever he threw at me.
Ian looked pointedly at my plate, at the chicken I’d barely eaten. “If you’re not in the mood for lunch, we could ask if they have a breakfast menu. Maybe you’d like a couple of eggs?” The vibrator inside me pulsed with more power as he said the last word.
Sputtering over the water I’d just sipped, I glared at him.
“Whatsamatter, you don’t think you could handle several of them?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” I said through gritted teeth. But then I couldn’t help smiling. He was so bad.
“Then how about some dessert? I think you deserve a treat.” And with that, the vibrations inside me intensified yet again.
Oh my god. It was the strongest they’d been so far. I gasped, clutching the edge of the table with both hands. Damn, that was intense. Like a low-grade erotic electrocution. I felt like my whole body would start trembling in a moment.
“Something wrong?” Ian asked. Yeah, right. Like I was buying his innocent act. But damn, he was turning me on. He knew what he was doing to me. He knew how he was making me feel. He probably knew how badly I needed to come and how much I wanted it to be from his c
ock pounding the hell out of me.
“I’m fine,” I said, breathlessly.
Ian grinned and leaned in. “Any minute now, women from nearby tables are going to tell their waiters, ‘I’ll have what she’s having.’”
Releasing a deep breath, I resisted the urge to throw my head back, close my eyes, and enjoy the sensation. The vibrations were nearly overwhelming.
Ian reached out and pried one of my hands from the table, placing it in his own. Immediately, I latched onto his fingers, squeezing them as hard as I’d been gripping the table.
“Holy shit, that’s hot,” he whispered, the teasing look gone from his face. In its place was hunger as he watched me. “Your cheeks are flushed, your chest is heaving ... you’ve got this wild look in your eyes. I want to see that look while you’re riding my cock tonight.”
I moaned, still bracing my body against the onslaught of sensation. Did we really have to wait for tonight?
Ian seemed to have read my mind. “Or we could go right now. I could take you in the restroom. Behind the building. In your car. Just fuck your brains out and make you explode with pleasure.”
Damn, this was getting to me. And to him, too. I knew he was trying to tempt me, to tease me, but he seemed to be getting himself as worked up as I was.
“Or we could go straight home,” he said, leaning up against my ear. “I’ll push you over the back of the couch, shove your skirt up to your waist, rip those sexy panties off you, and plunge my cock inside you. I’ll take you so hard you’ll be walking funny for a week.”
It was tempting. He was tempting. I knew he was beyond wanting to win the contest. He wanted to fuck me, and I wanted that, too. One thing was certain, we had to do something or I was going to spontaneously combust right here at the table.
I turned to him, trying to think, trying to concentrate, trying not to give into the delicious sensations. “Ian ... Ian, I—”
And then the timer on his phone went off signaling that his turn was over.
Somehow the tiny beeping sound brought me back to myself. Glancing around, I saw that a few people were looking in our direction. One man, a guy who was sitting with a woman, was openly leering at us. Ewww.
“Turn it off,” I whispered.
“Screw whose turn it is. Let’s just go—”
“Turn it off,” I repeated, my voice quiet but firm. And he did.
Shuddering, I sank down in my chair, feeling oddly tired. Ian signaled for the check while I tried to recover. Before we left, I went to the restroom and removed the egg. Carefully, I cleaned it, wrapped it in plastic, and put it in my purse. We were definitely going to have to play with it again in the future. Probably not in the middle of a crowded restaurant, though.
Once outside, we headed to my car—we’d left his parked at the hardware store. He drove, and I slumped in the passenger seat.
“You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”
I half felt like it. Getting that close to coming, twice, had triggered a lot of physical reactions. I felt tired and a little sleepy like I often did after a good orgasm.
“Lyss, are you mad at me?”
With effort, I opened my eyes. “No, of course not.”
“That just ... that got a little more intense than I was expecting at the restaurant.”
“Yeah, it did,” I said. “But it was hot.”
“It was insanely hot. But now you look like you need to sleep for a week.”
“No, I’m good,” I said, sitting up straighter. And I was—or at least I would be after cleaning up a bit and getting some caffeine. “I’m ready for my turn. I just need a little time to get ready.”
“How long do you need?”
“Probably about an hour. I’ve got to take care of a couple things and change. And so do you, by the way.”
“Me?” He sounded so surprised I had to laugh. Here he’d sent me out to buy lingerie, told me when to put it on, and told me when to take my other clothes off, yet he was shocked that he’d actually have to change his clothes once. Men!
“If I can walk into an adult toy store by myself, then you can manage to change into a suit.”
“Fair enough,” he said, but I saw his slight frown at the mention of a suit. As if he didn’t wear one most days of the week.
“Wear that black one that I like, okay?”
“‘Kay,” he said. “Do I have to shave?” he said, turning into the lot where his car was parked.
I looked over at the dark sexy stubble that grazed his strong jaw line. It made me want to kiss him, and once he’d parked, I did just that.
“No,” I said, smiling at him. “You don’t have to shave.”
Chapter 12
“HOW DO I look?” I asked nervously, checking the clock over the bar again.
“Like a million bucks. You’re going to have him eating out of the palm of your hand. Or any other body part you’d like,” my favorite bartender said with a grin.
I smiled, but inside I was nervous. Ian’s plan had been so erotic, so much fun. I didn’t want to disappoint him. Okay, yeah, I didn’t want to lose the bet, either. But mostly I didn’t want to let him down.
“You okay? You really do look amazing.”
I looked down at my low-cut cocktail dress. It was a little fancy for the early afternoon, but I’d figured what the hell. The surest way to seduce my husband was to look and feel my best. And hopefully drive him out of his mind with lust.
My dress was sleeveless, with thin straps draping over my shoulders that just barely concealed the bra straps of my new lingerie. The dress flared out at the waist but was quite short. I was also wearing brand new thigh-high stockings, held up by a sexy garter belt. I’d bought it at the lingerie store this morning and had ‘forgotten’ to tell Ian about it so that I could surprise him with it later.
I’d spent some time on my makeup and hair, too, making my eyes smoky and adding soft waves to my bronze tresses. Before parting outside the hardware store, we’d agreed that I’d go back to the apartment first, get ready, and then text him when I was done. It almost felt like we were a bride and groom again, not allowed to see each other before the wedding.
The final part of my fill-him-with-lust plan was my four inch black heels. Not very practical for walking, but the added height would be good for increasing my confidence. If I could look my sexy husband in the eye, or nearly so, it would help me keep the upper hand. It was my turn, and I was going to be the one in charge for the afternoon.
“Thanks,” I said. “I guess I just feel a little foolish dressed like this in the middle of the day.”
“You’ll feel better when Ian gets here and looks all hot in his suit.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just wish that we could do this at night ... seems like the sort of thing to do in a dark corner of a bar.”
“Maybe I can do something about that,” she said, and she strode toward a lighting panel near the entrance to the kitchen. She fiddled with the light switches, plunging one area of the restaurant into darkness, lighting another one up. She appeared oblivious of the startled looks of the few customers that lingered over their lunches.
Finally, she seemed satisfied with the lighting. The bar area was much darker now, almost as if it were night outside. The main part of the restaurant was also dimmer, though not as much. As she came back to me, a few diners were still staring in our direction.
She shrugged dismissively. “Screw them,” she said. Then she glanced toward the door and her eyes widened. “No,” she said, her voice faint. “Screw him.”
I turned to look. It was Ian. God he looked incredible in his dark suit. He’d slicked his short hair back, and put on a dark maroon tie. I wanted to grab him by the hand, shove him into the coatroom, and ride him until we both passed out from exhaustion. And judging by the bartender’s stare, I wasn’t the only one who wanted to do that.
“Holy crap. You’re a very lucky woman.” With visible effort, she pulled her eyes off my husband and turned to me. She whisp
ered as he drew nearer. “Remember when I said you didn’t have to quit your job to spend more time together? Fuck that. Quit your job. Spend more time together. And good luck,” she added, moving away from me.
It was showtime. I kept my eyes on the bar as Ian came up next to me. I waited a long moment before turning to him.
“You look amazing,” he said, genuine appreciation in his voice.
“Thank you,” I said politely. “I’m Alyssa.”
To his credit, it only took him a second to figure out the game. “I’m Ian,” he said, shaking the hand I offered. I’d been counting on him being a quick study.
“Mind if I sit down?” he asked.
I shook my head, turning back to my drink. The bartender had been down at the end of the bar, but now she approached us, shooting me a subtle wink and asking Ian what he wanted.
“I’ll have whatever the lady is having,” he said.
When his glass of red wine arrived, he clinked it against mine. I smiled, looking into his eyes, trying to see what a stranger would see in them. Such dark irises, almost charcoal. I wondered if other people ever noticed how his eyes could sparkle with mischief, narrow in concern, and intensify when he was excited?
It was weird, thinking of him as a stranger and not my soulmate, but if we were going to truly reconnect, then we couldn’t keep behaving in the same way as always. We needed do something different. And it wasn’t going to be easy. I was going to make him work for it. We’d both have to do that.
He sipped the wine slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “So what do you do, Alyssa?”
I was prepared for this question. I’d even sketched out a basic answer in my head. I’d say I was in education, that I loved working with kids. I’d even memorized a cute anecdote I’d found on a kindergarten teacher’s blog. But I didn’t end up saying any of that.
“I’m in advertising,” I said instead.
Ian raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Do you like it?”
“Yes, I really do. And I know I’m good at it. Good at helping people see that the product I’m promoting is just what they need to make their lives better. So yeah, I like that part.”
Tempting: A Cinderella Billionaire Story Page 27