On the Rocks (Pub Fiction Book 2)

by Jones, Gillian

  Picking up the bottle of tequila, I rest it between her legs, tucking it in close to her panty clad pussy, so she knows the Patrón is still there. Waiting.

  “Salt, first and foremost,” I tell her as she watches me intently. I shake a light dusting of salt across her tanned and toned stomach.

  She giggles and it’s music to my ears. She’s relaxed, which is just what I need. She’s calming me, calming me with her charm, her willingness to let go and with how much she’s come to trust me. Her faith in me is astounding, making me feel like the luckiest son of a bitch. Never have I been more in awe of a person. Braunwyn Daniels is my everything: my best friend, my lover, and my favourite person in the whole goddamned world. Love doesn’t begin to cover what I feel for this girl. I look her over as she watches me, the giggles drifting off as she takes in the seriousness that must have crossed my face. I rub my thumb along her cheek, offering a smile before continuing our game.

  Fuck, you’re perfect, baby. Thank you for trusting me and for letting me love you.

  “Oh, and ice. I need ice,” I say.

  “Umm, Levi,” she questions, her nose scrunched up, “I’ve never heard of ice being used for body shots, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she asks a bit nervously as I clank some ice into a glass.

  “I just happen to like my drinks on the rocks, Scrappy, so ice, yeah, I definitely need ice.” I take a cube into my hand and hear an intake of breath as I begin trailing the cold piece of ice over her stomach, around her belly button, down to her hipbone, then back up between her heavy cleavage.

  “Let’s take that bra off, shall we? I think the girls want to play. I see those pretty nipples beggin’ for my touch,” I say, and help her to get rid of the scrap of lace. I trail my fingers down her back, and then curve back around to her tight stomach, then stop back between her legs. She moans as I slide my fingertips behind the bottle and along her lips, coating my fingers with her lingering juices and the new sweetness I’m creating with my touch. Once satisfied I’ve got what I need, I trail my hand back up to her chest painting each budded tip with her wetness, a flavour I will delight in as I play with her stellar rack. I lick my lips; it’s taking everything not to devour her right now as I swirl her wetness over her tits, pinching and teasing each peak, priming them for the taking. I ease her back down on the bar. “Perfection. I cannot wait to have you on my tongue again, Scrappy. You drive me wild. You ready for me, baby?”

  “Please, Levi.” Her voice is needy, her body shaking with anticipation.

  I take a new piece of ice between my teeth as I resume teasing her. I trail the ice along her breastbone, rubbing my hands ever so slightly over her peaked nipples. Braun utters a soft “please,” causing me to smile as I move the icy cube over each hard bud where I know she wants it. Her nipples are so responsive I swear I could make her come from tit play alone. Her breath comes in tight shudders. Hot as fuck.

  Once the ice has melted onto her skin, I hover over her, taking her in. It’s a fucking sight to behold: Braunwyn Daniels sprawled out before me like a fucking meal waiting to be devoured, skin all salted and wet.

  “Finally some lemon. We need lemon to help chase the shot’s taste, but in this case it’s only gonna enhance the taste of the best thing I’ve had in my fucking mouth, Braun: you. You are the sweetest taste I have ever known. You. Have. Ruined. Me.” Braun arches her back at my words, looking at me, her eyes reflecting what I feel. I only see you. Always.

  “My taste buds crave only you. Nothing compares to your taste.”

  I take a piece of lemon from the dish at my right, slipping it between my teeth, then begin trailing the same path I took with the ice. Braun is moaning, panting and quaking beneath me as I continue to move, relentlessly spreading the lemon juice.

  “Now, finally, the Patrón.” I take it from where it’s been resting between her legs, and tip the bottle gently, letting a bit seep out in a pool around her belly button.

  “Oh, God, Levi,” she calls, and I see goosebumps coat her beautiful soft skin.

  “You ready, baby? I am going to fucking devour you. Top-shelf, Braunwyn. You are top-motherfuckin’-shelf.” I drizzle the Patrón along the same path as the ice and lemon.

  “Yes, Levi. Fuck, oh my…drink it. Holy shit, Levi, please, I can’t take it. Please,” she almost sobs and like the eager beaver I am, I rid myself of my jeans and boxers in once swift motion, before tossing my button down shirt aside, needing to feel her skin on mine too badly to care where they land, before climbing up on top of her on the bar. I start at her perfect tits, lapping up the most perfect salty shot I have ever had in my life. I pull and suck at each tip, giving them the attention they deserve. She’s a heady combination of sex and innocence and I can’t get enough of it.

  “Fuck, you taste so fucking good. I could drink off you forever. I’ve never tasted anything better,” I add as I make my way back down to her pussy, having lapped up every inch of her on the way. I’m taking my time, making sure to catch every bit of the mixture I’ve made out of Braun. She tastes like heaven, but it’s hell at the same time because I need inside her too badly. I need her sweet heat around my cock before I come all over her. “Need inside you, Braun. Now,” I say, as I work to rip her panties off.

  “Please, Levi, now. I need your cock in …n-now,” she stutters, and I laugh, “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Levi Eddison. I swear I’m just going to do it myself if you don’t hurry the hell up,” she says, and tries to move her hand down between her legs.

  “The fuck you will.” I use a strong grip to tear through the side of her thong.

  “Finally,” we both utter at the same time when I slide my cock deep inside the grip of her warm, slippery pussy.

  “Fuck, you feel good. You were made for me, Braun. This pussy is mine. Always. So tight, so fucking wet, so fucking hot.” I sink deeper into her sweet heat, her walls clutching me as we move. I’m trying to go slow, to make it last, but I can’t.

  “Levi, harder,” she says, and wraps her legs around me tight, digging her heels into my ass, spurring me on. She lifts up off the bar, arching her back, causing those perfect tits of hers to rub against my chest, the feel of her nipples driving me wild. Fuck going slow; I couldn’t even if I tried. Not with her egging me on like this, and demanding what she needs.

  Taking her hands in mine, I pin them down at her sides. I align my face with her tits to suck on her nipples like a madman, and begin a relentless pounding as her pussy grips my cock even harder. I take in her eyes, dilated into black wells of lust and need, as they watch my lips pulling on her nipples.

  “Oh, my goodness, Levi. Yes, suck on them, bite them, pull them, I can’t take it. I’m so close. God, it feels so good. Fuck me. Levi, please.”

  Her words impact me with the strength of a freight train booming through the night. I growl as I flip her over.

  “On all fours, Braun. I need hard and fast too, baby.”

  With a soft moan, she complies, now ass up on her hands and knees on top of my bar, giving me all of her, open and ready, and I could die a happy man at the sight of her so compliant, so perfect. I swear to all that’s holy this woman is my end.

  I pause, taking a moment to absorb her.

  “Levi. Are you okay?” She looks over her shoulder confused that I haven’t taken her yet.

  “Hell, baby, I’m more than okay. Look over at the mirrors. Do you see yourself right now? The fucking angels are weeping at your perfection. I just need a minute to calm the fuck down. I want to last.”

  “Are you kidding me, right now? It’s not time for poetry, Levi. I can’t wait, I need you to pound me, I need to be touched,” she says, and once again she tries to put her hand on her pussy—my pussy.

  “No fucking way, Scrappy.” I pull her back toward me; she’s now sitting on my thighs as I kneel on my haunches. The little minx looks behind at me. Catching my eye, she smirks before slowly grinding up and around my cock, teasing it, taunting it… Finally, after what feel
s like forever, she allows me to slide me back inside her sweet cunt, her tight walls and heat engulfing me, welcoming me home.

  “Fuck, that’s hot. Look at you owning this shit. Yeah, that’s right, baby. Take what’s yours.” I kiss her neck, running my scruff along her neck, whispering how fucking hot and sexy she is.

  I pull us up so we’re both on our knees. Turning my head, I catch our reflection in the mirror that covers the bar’s back wall. I gasp out loud at the sight of us, my cock twitching inside Braun as the view made me even harder. Taking Braun’s head in my hand I gently turn it so she meets my gaze in the mirror.

  “Look at us, Scrappy. Watch as you take me in and out of that sweet cunt of yours. Fuck, you look so good on me.” I pull her back tight to me after we’ve watched her slide me in and out a few times. I’m so hard I could fuck her through the granite bar top. Wetness soaks the back of Braun’s legs as I reach my hands around her front, one flicking her clit, the other holding her close to me, clutching her tits.

  We move together in tandem, chasing the high we can only get from this, from each other. It’s a routine of give and take, and fuck me, if I don’t plan on taking this right here, over and over again.

  Braunwyn changes positions, moving so she’s now back down on all fours, elbows and knees on the bar’s surface. Not wasting any time, I move the hand on her clit in a rhythmic pulse, matching my cock’s, thrust for thrust, as I bring us both to the edge.

  I growl and I take one last thrust as wave after wave of tiny electrical currents move from my head to my toes, I can feel my cum shooting out in heavy spurts, filling Braunwyn, a thought which only serves to prolong the sensations repeatedly taking over my body. An impulse to hold tight onto Braun overtakes me as the roller coaster feeling washes over me and I continue to ride out the most intense orgasm of my life. Returning to earth.

  I move to her side before pulling her down on top of me on the bar, allowing us both to enjoy the aftershocks.

  “Braun,” I call, after a few minutes of lying there.

  “Mmmm?” She’s breathless, still out of it.

  “Were those panties made of Titanium?”

  She just looks up at me and laughs before nuzzling in closer to me, and I hold her in my arms in the pub I used to feel was “home”.

  I was wrong.

  This is home. Braunwyn is my home.

  Chapter 45

  Braunwyn

  Ever since the night a few weeks back with Chase, Levi has become quite overprotective. I mean he’s always been bit overprotective of me and the rest of the girls, but now he’s taken it to a new level. I guess he never thought that a client would ever do what Chase did.

  He wasn’t kidding when he called Finn wanting to up the security, that’s for sure. He’s installed cameras in the halls and the parking lot, as well as having Finn’s friend Russ install those doors in the staffroom that lock after you automatically once they close. We all have those key cards like they do in hotels to get in and out. Levi’s also hired two new bouncers, one for weekends and one to work three nights a week, along with being on-call, if needed. The overzealous man also insisted that I take a self-defence class at the Centre. I only agreed because he decided, after talking it over with Big John, that all Pub Fiction staff should go for the training, including the men.

  After four one-hour classes, I’m happy to report that I passed with flying colours. It was actually a lot of fun hanging out as a staff group, getting to battle each other, taking the men down to the mats. Levi was able to convince Robin, the Centre’s coordinator, to teach the class on Sundays; seeing as that was the day we were all free. It worked out perfectly because Susan, the volunteer art instructor, ran her toddler painting class at the same time so I was able to bring Emme with me, which of course she loved.

  I also made sure I met with Hillary a few times, as well, since the event obviously acted as a trigger for me, making me think about Shawn’s suicide again. I was happy to have Hillary tell me I was still “normal” and not, in fact, regressing as I’d been worrying about.

  Since we all passed Levi’s insisted-upon training, along with having given up our spare time to take the course, Levi decided to take everyone out for dinner tonight as way to celebrate the course being a success. He was extremely happy that everyone was so eager to participate, and even Will managed to make it to all the classes (I think the fact that he’s on his last chance was a huge factor).

  Will approached me to apologize after that night too. I assured him that his not being there wasn’t to blame, despite Levi telling him differently until I set him straight. Eventually, Levi apologized to Will and things have gotten back to normal at work, a feeling I know we are all grateful for.

  I walk into Grams’ house after Levi drops me off after the self-defence class dinner, feeling confident and content. But then I feel my shoulders begin to get heavy, as if my body knows something isn’t right. Kicking off my brown Mary Jane’s, I book it up the stairs to check on Emmerson. It’s only 8:30 p.m., but I know she’s probably been sleeping for about an hour now. Opening her door, I immediately see her face nestled in her covers as the golden glow from her Minion light illuminates her soft features. I tiptoe back down the stairs, making sure to avoid the creaky step.

  I can hear Lewis and Grams in the kitchen, whispering back and forth, my name falling from their lips more than once. As I get closer to the kitchen entrance, I see that the door is closed, which makes me more curious because Grams never closes that door; being into Feng Shui, she says it messes up the house’s energy flow. I stand on the other side of the archway, feeling like Scooby-Doo’s Daphne with her ear pressed coyly against some suspect’s door, eavesdropping—rather than my usual Scrappy self—trying to decipher some clues as to what the heck they might be talking about. All I can pick up is that it’s something that involves whispering and my name, and that I don’t make a very good girl detective. I decide it’s time to let my presence be known. I call out and open the door.

  “I’m home, Grams.”

  “Oh, Braunwyn. Hi, sweetheart,” she says.

  Use of full name. Not good.

  “Hey Lewis, how are you?” I ask before giving him a big hug. I love Lewis, he is the perfect mate for Grams. He always treats her like gold and also fits right in with both Little Miss and myself. It’s like he’s always been a part of our family.

  “Sit, sit, join us. We were just going to have another glass of Tio Pepe. Actually, you’re just in time, love.” Lewis motions to the bottle of sherry and the chair across from Grams. His Irish accent is a bit more noticeable, a tell that this isn’t their first glass tonight.

  That tight feeling in my shoulders quickly moves to the pit of my stomach as I agree to join them. I take the offered glass and sit. Now I know something is up because Lewis and Grams are like creatures of habit; they never drink more than a glass, and the sherry is reserved for special occasions.

  Just as I’m about to speak, my phone signals a text.

  “Excuse me a sec,” I say. I know it’s from Levi because of the alert sound of Scooby-Doo calling Shaggy’s name. I wouldn’t normally look until Grams and I were done talking, but I have a bad feeling and I’m hoping Levi’s text is the thing I need to get me through this conversation. Glancing down, I smile. As usual, it’s like he knows when I need him.

  Levi: I hate that you’re both not here with me. Month end sucks, sorry baby. I’ll make it up 2 u. Think of me tonight.

  Me: Always xx

  Levi: Oh and u better get some good rest, ’cause tomorrow night u r all mine. Gonna make you sore baby. Always. Night xx

  Me: so bossy. Xx Always.

  I place my phone beside me on the table then take a short sip of my Tio, the strong taste lingering on my tongue as it makes its way down my throat, the subtle burn letting me know it’s one of their better bottles.

  “What’s going on, Grams? I heard you and Lewis whispering, and then I heard my name. Is everything okay?”

>   Grams takes a deep breath before topping her glass back up.

  “Braun, sweetie, I need to talk to you about something. Now, I need you to listen and not freak out right away.” Grams’ watering eyes meet mine and I know before she says it.

  “You’re sick, aren’t you?” I ask.

  She’d been having some pain coupled with other symptoms that had us thinking she should go get checked out. She kept refusing, saying it would pass. I didn’t even know that she had finally gone to see her doctor.

  Oh, God, please don’t be dying.

  “Grams, no. Tell me you’re not dying.” I blurt out. I don’t mean to sound selfish by putting it out there like that, but honestly, she’s my person and I’d rather know, you know, band-aid style… just rip the buggar off.

  Tears stream down both our faces as she reaches for my hands across the black tablecloth. “No, baby. I’m not dying. Not yet, anyway,” she smiles.

  “Jesus, Grams.” I try to wipe away the tears cascading down my face. Relief never felt so good. Lewis places a box of Kleenex in front of us, and pats my back before heading over to Grams, giving her a kiss on the head, and taking his seat next to her.

  “But, I do need to have an operation. It turns out they’ve found a spot of cancer on my ovaries. I’ve got a very small tumour they need to remove, but before you go thinking the worst, my gynaecological surgeon thinks that it’s possible to remove all of the cancer with a simple surgery. We’ve caught it early enough so the prognosis is very good. I’ll be having the surgery, then I’ll follow that up with some chemotherapy, if I need it. But it’s not likely, since we caught it early.”

  “Oh, Grams, I’m so sorry.” I get up, knocking my chair over, so I can go to her. She hugs me tight and we cry into each other’s shoulders and necks, whispering words of encouragement to each other. And, finally, we start laughing from who knows what, deciding that there is no way a Daniels woman is going to let “a spot of cancer” get her down.

  “Grams, can we please stop sipping sherry now and move on to something we can actually drink?” I laugh, pushing my glass into the centre of the table.