Huxley slowly runs his hand up my front, starting at my waist. He’s heading for my tit, and damn if there’s not a part of me that wants him to get there—and fast.
“What don’t you understand about ‘no touching’?” I ask as I jump off his lap and try to regain my composure.
“What don’t you understand about a lap dance? Can’t you see where this is heading?”
“Not today.”
“So,” Huxley says as he reaches up and grabs a tendril of my hair, tucking it behind my ear, “another day then?”
“Not what I meant, and you know it.”
“We’ll see,” he says, relaxing back into the chair with a smirk.
I hesitate for a moment, but a deal’s a deal. I’m intent on seeing this lap dance through to the end. Although, I’m not sure what exactly the signal would be at this point.
I climb back on his lap, hesitantly, but let’s face it: I want to be there, feeling his hard cock below me, touching my cunt lips even if it is through a few layers of fabric. I’d never admit that to him, though.
Moving my hips back and forth, I feel him grow larger beneath me. I relax a little, feeling like the power has shifted back in my direction. Standing up, I turn around and bend down in front of Huxley, my firm ass right in his face.
Even with my best asset—or one of them, at any rate—right in his face, he’s a perfect gentleman and doesn’t attempt to reach out and touch me. What does it say about me that I’m a little disappointed?
Standing back up, I turn to face him.
“Just trying to be a good boy,” he says with a shrug.
“I didn’t realize doing the right thing would be such a struggle for you.”
Huxley reaches down to adjust his crotch, and my eyes follow.
“It’s harder some days than others,” he says. I look up to catch him watching me, or rather to discover that he caught me staring at his dick.
Either way, the way he’s smirking at me tells me I may have just lost my upper hand. Again. There’s only one way to get it back.
I straddle him again, and with my hands on his chest steadying me, I begin slowly pumping up and down in time to the music. He bites his lower lip and tilts his head back.
A slow smile of satisfaction spreads across my face. Before I can have a moment to relish my victory, though, Huxley grabs me behind my neck and pulls me into a deep kiss.
God help me, I don’t fight the kiss; instead, it leaves me breathless by the time Hux breaks our connection. Steadying myself with my hands on his shoulders, I focus on getting my breathing back to normal.
“That was completely against the rules,” I pant.
“I figured it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission,” he purrs, his hands firmly around my waist now.
“You…beg?” I ask, slowly peeling his hands off me, feeling like a part of me is missing once I do.
“Only when there’s no other choice.”
“What will it take to leave here and search for the missing bride and groom?” I ask, wanting desperately to change the subject away from the heat radiating between us.
“I might have a way to satisfy both of us,” Huxley says, rubbing his hands up and down my upper thighs.
“Is it my turn to beg?” I once again move his hands away, only to have Huxley bring them right back to my skin, like his hands are damn homing pigeons and my body is their fucking coop.
“Tempting, but no,” Huxley says, looking past me to the wall behind us. “I…I might know where Theo is.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. He’s been keeping this from me the whole time? Just to get a fucking lap dance?
I fold my arms in front of my chest in a show of anger, but all that does is make a wide smile spread across Hux’s face for some reason.
“So, where is he?” I ask.
“Oh, I’ll tell you. But it’s going to cost you.”
Huxley
“You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m going to suck your cock for some information,” Olivia announces, still straddling me in our private room at the Shakespeare. Only now, she places her fists on her hips in defiance.
There’s just one problem, though: she’s been practically salivating over my hard dick the entire time we’ve been in here.
“No fucking way,” she says, staring me down. “It’s not going to happen.”
Maybe it’s because we’re sitting in a strip club named after the Bard, but I can’t help but think of that famous quote about the lady protesting too much.
I reach up and place a finger under her chin, pulling up so we’re eye to eye.
“Like anything you see?” I ask. “Feel free to touch it if you want.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Olivia says as she gets up from my lap.
“I’m unbelievable?” I ask, repositioning my fucking hard cock in my pants. “You’re the one who can’t stop eye-fucking my unit.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and smirking, say, “You know you want to. It’s just the two of us in here. There’s no point denying it.”
I can see Olivia’s resolve dissolving a little, and she takes a step toward me.
“Besides, how long has it been since you’ve sucked a cock, anyway?” I ask.
“And how is that any business of yours?”
“I’m just trying to help you out,” I say, resting the back of my head on my hands. “You look like a girl in need.”
“I’m not sure I could properly do the task while I’m worried about my sister being missing out there somewhere.”
“Okay,” I say, laughing. “You and Emma are so connected that you can’t fulfill your own desire while she’s missing? Where was that connection when she ditched you minutes before the ceremony?”
By her head tilt and contemplative look, I’ve made a decent point. She’s poised on the edge; I just have to nudge her over a little. From the signs she’s been throwing my way all day, it’s nowhere she doesn’t want to go anyway.
It’s like she’s been wound tight for so long, she doesn’t know how to let go on her own.
I’m more than happy to show her the way to unadulterated fun. After all, I’ve had years of experience in it.
“So…you’re saying I should just forget about my sister and think only of me and my needs?” Olivia asks, taking another step forward and dropping to her knees in front of me.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I say, spreading my legs a little wider in anticipation. “Think of it like the safety announcement they make on the plane: you can’t help your seatmate until your mask is firmly on. Same thing here. How are you supposed to help Emma until you’re satisfied?”
“True,” she says slowly, and then she lifts her eyes to meet mine. “And if I’m being honest, I’ve been thinking about doing just this since we were back in the bathroom at Fleet House.”
“Then, what are you waiting for, Livvy?”
With a sly smile, Olivia runs her hand up my thigh and then cups my hard dick, stroking the length back and forth. I inhale deeply, throwing my head back.
I hear the unmistakable sound of a zipper being unzipped, and I look back just in time to see Olivia unleash all twelve of my hard inches from the restricting fabric. It’s her turn to inhale—hell, she gasps—when she gets a look at my monster dick.
“Think you can handle it?” I tease.
“I’m always up for a challenge.”
I watch as Olivia lightly flicks her tongue over and around my dick head, licking the pre-cum while she strokes up and down my length.
Still stroking, she leans in and gently takes one ball in her mouth, teasing me with slippery suction without ever endangering my little friend. That little roller coaster ride of emotion is enough to get my adrenaline pumping. I’ll give her a perfect score for technique so far.
The sensation of her soft hand on my hard dick is pushing me over the edge quicker than I would like. That is, until she uses her tongue to tease the head of my cock again before beginning to take m
e in her mouth.
With her mouth poised over my cock head, she looks at me, which is just the sexiest fucking sight ever. I’m officially putty in her hands right now.
I want to take her hair and ram my dick into her mouth, fucking it roughly. Instead, I revel in the warm, wet sensation as her lips slide past the head of my cock.
I fill her entire mouth, and she gags slightly as I hit the back of her throat. Apparently, she’s right: she’s up for the challenge. But I’m the one that’s going to reap the rewards.
I lean back and close my eyes, enjoying every moment of the sensation of Olivia pumping her mouth up and down on my throbbing dick. As good as this feels—and it feels fucking fantastic—it only makes me want her all the more.
I can feel my dick start to tense, and I know I’ll be losing control soon. I lean down and grab the top of her head, trying to control the tempo.
“Mmmfm,” she says, smacking my hand away, causing me to laugh.
She likes to be in charge, huh?
Olivia is busy devouring my dick, creating a mini vibration chamber for it. The sounds of sucking threaten to drown out the music pumping in the room.
“Oh, god,” I say as the friction of her tongue sliding against my shaft creates a soft, warm velvety tunnel that I never want to exit.
I feel my eyes start to roll back in my head as my dick starts to tense up and twitch. I feel my hot liquid spurt out of my dick and fill her mouth.
This beautiful creature kneeling before me takes it all, swallowing every last drop and sucking me dry.
In terms of the top ten blowjobs I’ve ever received, this one is fucking off the charts. When Olivia uses my legs to raise herself up, sitting gently on one of my thighs, I don’t tell her this.
Instead, I say, “That’ll do, I guess.”
She responds by smacking me flat against the chest as I laugh.
“I know you’re fucking lying,” she says, laughing and leaning into me.
I capture her face with my hand and bring her lips to mine. As we kiss, I faintly taste myself on her, and it makes me feel powerful, like I’ve conquered a foreign land or stuck my flag on the moon.
“Umm,” Olivia says, breaking our kiss. “What about Theo and Emma?”
“I don’t know about you, but I try to keep my sexual escapades separate from my brother’s. To each their own, though.”
“No! Where do you think they are?”
“You don’t rest for a minute, do you?” I sigh, brushing my fingers through her hair. “Fine, they might be at my brother’s beach house here in town.”
“He has a house here?” she asks, and I can tell from her tone she wonders why I didn’t mention this earlier.
Considering my dick is still lying open out of my pants, the answer should be pretty clear.
Olivia jumps up and heads for the door.
“Well, let’s go!” she says, flinging the door open. “What are you waiting for?”
To put my dick away, for one thing, I think.
She’s a fascinatingly unique woman, that’s for sure. I’m going to have to work hard to keep up with her.
Olivia
You know how sometimes the very worst person shows up at the very worst time?
“I see you’re finally putting your talents to use, Ms. Vandercliff.”
Leave it to Oberon Lawson to show up and say something withering just as Huxley and I are leaving the strip club. I’m pretty sure he looked at my ass when he said it, too.
I barely make eye contact with him as I answer, “We’re on our way out, actually.” I’m not going to give him an opening to pull us into a conversation.
Or to try to rope me into a lap dance.
Oberon raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going back to the wedding, are you? It hasn’t gotten any better since you left.” He folds his arms across his chest and looks down his nose at me. He probably practices that look in the mirror. “What a shame,” he adds. “I had high hopes for that event.”
“It’s not an ‘event.’ It’s my brother’s wedding. He and Emma can celebrate it however they want. Have a good night!” Huxley takes my arm and begins to lead me toward the parking lot.
We’ve taken all of two steps before Oberon angles his body to block us, draping his arm around Huxley. “I had a lot riding on this, son,” he sneers. “I expect results. When things don’t go as planned, someone has to pay.”
“Where do you pay? I can help you with that. The ticket booth is that way,” Huxley offers, redirecting the conversation.
Then he throws his arm around me and rushes me away from Oberon, through the parking lot, and back to the car.
Huxley opens the passenger door for me before sliding into the driver’s seat.
“Oh, my. This really is a gentlemen’s club,” I purr.
Huxley just laughs.
Most guys I’ve dated don’t open the door for me like that. I guess I don’t need them to, but it’s still a nice gesture every once in a while.
Especially when I flee a wedding without my clothes on and end up at a strip club. And definitely after I give a blowjob to the groom’s brother. I don’t think I’m being too hard on myself when I say that I’m not at my most ladylike right now.
But I’m having a damn good time.
“Shall we?” Huxley asks, revving the engine.
“Anything to get away from Lawson. To the beach house!”
As we head toward Theo’s place, I look out the window and admire the classic seaside homes with their wooden shingles and white trim molding. The Hamptons really are beautiful.
I just wish that Oberon Lawson didn’t own over half of them.
Glancing at the driver’s side, I see a dark look cross Huxley’s face.
“What are you thinking about, Hux?”
“Oberon. What the fuck did that guy want with us just now? That was really freaking weird.”
“I have no idea. That’s a good question to ask Emma…if we can ever find her, anyway.”
“Hopefully, she’s not getting too involved with him. If she is—or if anyone else in your family is, for that matter—it’s not going to be good. For anyone.”
“You keep saying that. What do you mean?” He doesn’t have to sell me on staying away from Oberon, but it seems like he knows more about him than he’s letting on.
Huxley opens his mouth to answer me, but then changes his mind. He flips the radio station from a soft rock station to something more upbeat.
He flips the car around and slows down, looking for parking. We must be getting close to the house.
“Hey, I just thought of something,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“This is like our blind date do-over.”
Not this again. If he doesn’t let it go, I might have to open the door and somersault out on the highway to get away from him. But when I catch him smiling at me in the rearview mirror, I can’t help but smile back.
“You mean the one where you didn’t show up?”
He shakes his head. “No, I mean the one where I did show up, and then you ignored me all night.”
“I’m confused. Because the last time I checked, I ordered a Prince Charming to go with my Cinderella costume, and he never showed up. My carriage turned into a pumpkin, I lost my shoe, and no one found it. My life sucks now. I’m still at my stepmother’s house, cleaning house for her and those other bitches.”
“At midnight, right?” he asks me.
“Yes. At midnight. My fairy godmother was very clear about that.”
“But the theme of the party was ‘My Date from Hell,’ not ‘My Dream Date.’”
“So?”
“So, what else happens at midnight?”
“The beach closes? I don’t know.”
Huxley slaps the steering wheel in frustration. “Do I have to spell it out for you? The prince turns into Gumby and Cinderella acts like he doesn’t exist all night! I was your perfect date from hell, and you didn’t even say hi to me.”
I groan. Now, I understand what happened. The guy in the big green dork costume who followed me around all night wasn’t just any creep; he was Huxley.
“Why didn’t you take your mask off and introduce yourself? How was I supposed to know who you were under all that ugly green fabric?”
I glance at Huxley in the mirror, and he smiles sheepishly. “The head kept falling off, so I used some superglue to hold it in place. Theo had to cut me out of it by the end of the night.”
“You weren’t hiding from me, then. You were stuck in your costume.”
“Now you get it! I was wondering why you had such a weird reaction to it. Seriously, that costume was some of my best work.”
I can’t decide if I’m more annoyed with myself or with him for ruining that date.
“It was a good idea,” I concede. “But I wish you’d told me what you were wearing ahead of time.”
Huxley pats my knee. “Where’s the fun in that? I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: some of the best moments in life are unplanned.”
“Just not that one.”
Huxley’s knee pat turns into a tickle pinch, and I shriek in response. “If you don’t stop being such a brat, you’re staying in the car.”
I swipe his hand away, and try to scoot out of his reach. “You’re the one who needs to stop being a brat!”
“Okay. I’m done.” Huxley pulls over to the side of the road and backs into a parking space. He shuts off the engine and exits the car. When I grab the handle to leave, it doesn’t budge.
He’s activated the child lock.
Oh, great. Now he’s going to walk ahead of me, making me grovel a bit before letting me out.
Instead, he walks up to the passenger door and opens it for me, offering me his hand.
“I meant it, Olivia. This is our do-over date. And here is the part where I walk you to your door.”
“This isn’t my door,” I argue, but I’m grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s a door, and it’s close enough. Just to warn you—I’m going to try for a goodnight kiss.”
I take his hand and let him help me out of my seat, shutting the door behind me.
Summer of Love_A Runaway Bride Romance Page 6