Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (64 page)

He just stared at me, at my mouth, and then his gaze slipped down to my chest. Yeah, he was thinking the same exact thing.

“Phil?”

He replied to my chest, “I was thinkin’ of checkin’ out some of the jazz clubs around here. Dad said the Three Muses was pretty good.”

“All right,” I replied, squirming in my seat a little.

My snapper was to die for. A part of my brain
did
in fact register this. But my poor crotch was hot, damp, and throbbing something awful. Most of my brain was focused on that.

“Cool,” grunted Phil.

“Do you want to try this?” I asked, spearing a large piece of the fish and holding it out for him.

He leaned across the table, his eyes on mine, and he took the fork into his mouth before slowly sliding back.

Shit, he has the most amazingly sinful mouth a man could possibly have.

My pulse raced, and I found it difficult to inhale properly.

Is it always going to be like this? Will he always be able to just look at me and turn me into a quivering mass of raw nerves?

“That’s pretty fuckin’ tasty,” he said quietly.

His voice or maybe the way he’d said the words fired something within me. In my mind’s eye, I imagined him lying facedown on the bed, and
I
was spanking
him
, punishing
his
ass with his wide leather belt
.

For the love of all that’s holy…

“Yeah,” I said a bit breathlessly while I stared at his mouth.

He was compelling me to look into his eyes, and the pull was so strong that I couldn’t help but do so. Then, I couldn’t look away. I didn’t
want
to look away. Within me, a need sparked to let him strip me down, so I could show him all that I was, that all of it was his.

“How is everything?” Geoffrey popped up from out of nowhere, breaking the spell.

I glanced down at my plate, feeling my cheeks flood with heat. “Very good. Thank you.”

Phil hadn’t taken his eyes off me. I could still feel them burning me.

“Great,” he told Geoffrey.

Geoffrey took off, and I looked up.

Phil was scowling at me. “Nosy shit.”

I laughed lightheartedly, making Phil smile again.

Cutting into his medium-rare lamb, Phil took a fat chunk of it and plopped it onto my plate, so I took a decent piece of fish and slid it from my plate to his. While he was busy cutting off a bite for himself, under the table, I removed one of my pumps and lightly ran my foot up along the inside of his calf.

Phil jumped, sharply kneeing the table, making our plates and glasses loudly clatter and clink about. I grabbed my pint glass with my right hand and covered my mouth with my left, feeling my face turn a brilliant flaming red. Looking around, I saw other people looking at us, startled.

Turning shocked eyes on me, he took in my horrified expression and hissed, “Was that
you
?”

Who the fuck else would it be?

If my eyes got any wider, my eyeballs might spill out of their sockets.

I nodded slightly. “S-sorry, I…”

I was
trying
to be sexy, wanting him to know I couldn’t help but need to touch him. Instead, half the restaurant was staring at us, wondering what in the hell was going on with the two giants by the window.

Embarrassed, I looked down at the table, scooting my plate back to the center. Without being obvious, I moved my foot around under the table, attempting to find my pump, but I was having no luck in this department.

I didn’t notice him reaching under the table. I only felt his warm hand wrap around my calf, slowly pulling it up and settling my foot on his seat, between his legs. When I was finally able to meet his gaze, it blasted me with some searing intensity. Gently, I brushed my toes over his crotch. His pupils dilated, and he drew in a deep breath. I started to pull my foot back, but he held it and pulled it deeper into his groin.

“Baby Girrrl,” he said, his voice rumbling through me.

“Yeah?” I whispered.

“I love you.”

It was ridiculous that hot tears suddenly burned my eyes. I was filled with such a great sense of joy, and it was incredible, even painfully sweet.

Giving him a tremulous smile, I told him, “I love you, too.”

He squeezed my foot. “Don’t move it. I wanna feel you while I eat.”

“Okay,” I replied shyly.

Beneath my toes, his cock twitched, and I bit my lip to keep from grinning like a loon.

For the rest of the meal, we talked about music, family, and the things we had done while apart, acting as though my foot wasn’t softly stroking his thickening groin. When we cleared our plates, he pressed it even more firmly into his crotch.

“I want you so bad,” he murmured, stroking the top of my foot.

“I want you, too,” I whispered.

“I don’t think I can wait until we get home.”

My crotch pulsated strongly. “Me neither.” I swallowed past the rising lump of lust in my throat. “I feel empty.”

Geoffrey materialized and collected our plates. “Dessert?”

“No,” Phil replied brusquely, not breaking our gaze.

Geoffrey slunk off and returned a few minutes later to silently drop off a small tray containing the check. We were still just staring at one another, and it wasn’t like we could do this all night, here in the restaurant. Geoffrey was onto us.

“Phil?”

“Yeah, Baby Girl.”

“The check.”

He closed his eyes as if it pained him to have to stop staring at me. My foot slid off his crotch and landed on my pump
.

Really? After all that searching?

As I wiggled my foot into it, my brain felt like it was rebooting. Phil dug his wallet out of his back pocket before pulling out a credit card and dropping it onto the check without bothering to look at it.

Geoffrey inconspicuously picked up the tray and vanished again without a word.

Phil leaned across the table. “Where?” he demanded.

“What?”

“Where?” He had his angry face on, turning my crotch to swampland.

“Where what?” I hissed back at him.

“Where can we go, so I can shove my dick in you?” he hissed back.

I am so fucking wet right now. Geoffrey is going to have to squeegee off my damn chair after we leave.

“Oh gods,” I breathed, my brain searching for an answer of some kind.
Where? Where? Where?

Geoffrey came back with the tray. “How was everything?”

“Excellent,” replied Phil.

Taking the tray, he shoved his card back into his wallet, and then he signed the receipt. Handing over the signed copy, he glanced up at Geoffrey, who looked as though he could be suffering from some serious constipation.

“You all right, man?”

“Can I please,
please
have your autograph?” Geoffrey whispered, looking over his shoulder.

Surprised, Phil smiled. “Sure, man. No problem.”

Geoffrey slid him a blank slip of paper. “I went to the concert a couple of weeks ago. Best fuckin’ show
ever
.”

Phil’s eyes lit up, and his smile dazzled me, making me blink against its brilliance. “Thanks. Glad you enjoyed it.”

Geoffrey clutched the autograph to his chest. “You guys have a great night.”

“You, too,” I said.

Busying myself with grabbing my purse, I tried not to look at my man for fear that I’d spontaneously combust into a puddle of lust goo
.
Instead, as I stood up on shaky legs, he was there—touching me, taking my hand, slipping his arm around my waist, and steering my mindless self to the front of the restaurant.

“Where’s the restroom?” he barked at the poor hostess.

A look of absolute terror crossed her features as she pointed. “Do-down the ha-hall.”

“Thanks,” he grunted.

He dragged me behind him. There were four separate restrooms, all of them unisex.

“Fan-fuckin’-tastic!” he crowed, pulling me into the one farthest in the back.

“Phil!” I gasped in mild outrage. “A public restroom?”

He slammed the door shut and locked it. Then, he lifted me and shoved me up against the wall.

“Yeah, Baby Girl, a public fuckin’ restroom.”

His mouth took mine, branding me as his. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he slipped a hand between our bodies, his fingers brushing over the soaked crotch of my lacy panties.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” he nearly shouted.

My eyes closed in embarrassment, my cheeks flushing hotly.
Why do I have to be
this
wet? Couldn’t I just be wet enough?

“Open your fuckin’ eyes,” he growled at me.

Holding me up with one arm, Phil undid his belt, button, and fly with his other hand, which really was fucking impressive. After pushing his jeans down past his ass, he then hooked my panties with his finger while grunting like a proud caveman, and he shoved them to the side. Before I knew it, his hot rigid length was sliding into me, pushing in deep, and we both let out some porn star moans. He gave me a few quick thrusts, and
fuck me
if I wasn’t already starting to squeeze hard and pulse around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned in my ear. “I ain’t gonna last long.”

It didn’t matter. I was coming already.

“Oh fuck!” I groaned, my head dropping back with a thud against the wall. “Harder!”

Clapping his hand over my mouth, Phil began to pound away, making me scream, as I came apart around him. With a fierce groan, he emptied into me in pulsing spurts. Breathing heavily, we clung to each other.

It took us longer to come back into ourselves than it did for us to get off in the first place.

“God…” he whispered. “It just keeps gettin’ better.”

“I know.”

Pulling back, he pressed a kiss to my Third Eye, filling me with warmth and joyous light, and then he slowly pulled out. The rush of his cum dripping out of me made me gasp in horror.

Wonderful! How am I supposed to go around with spunk leaking down my thighs?

Phil grabbed a fistful of paper towels and pressed them between my legs as he set me on my feet, clasping me to his chest with his free arm.

“I fuckin’
worship
you.” His warm breath penetrated through my hair, tingling over my scalp. “That was…”

“Yeah,” I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder and closing my eyes.

We stood there for a few minutes, so close and intimate, as he held the wad between my legs.

“Here, let me get cleaned up,” I said and stirred.

“All right,” he murmured.

Taking the wad, I headed over to the toilet, pulling down my panties and plopping my ass down. It was a little embarrassing, having him washing his hands and sponging off his cock in the sink next to me. I was finding it a little difficult to pee, but I knew he’d have a little bitch fit if I asked him to leave me alone. I just did my business and wiped up.

He wetted some more paper towels and handed them to me.

Finished with my chore, I checked to see that everything was still in place in the mirror. Makeup and hair intact, I caught Phil warmly smiling at me in the reflection.

“I still find it hard to believe you’re
my
woman,” he said softly.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I guess because I’ve wanted you for so long.”

I turned to face him. “I’ll always be
your
woman.”

He reached out and pulled me into his arms before pressing a warm kiss to my lips. “I’ll always be
your
man.”

Snuggled up in a booth in a corner of the Three Muses, Phil and I listened to the rich warm music pouring out of the talented jazz band while watching other couples dance. It was nice and dark where the tables were, making the small dance floor seem overly bright.

There were some fantastic dancers here. Some of the older couples looked like they’d been dancing like this for most of their lives. It had been a long time since I’d taken dance lessons with Alys and Lili in high school, but my feet had an itch to cut loose a little bit. I was not a brilliant dancer, but I wasn’t ridiculous either.

Phil had one of the tiny braids in my hair, twining it around his fingers. With his other hand he caressed his fingertips along my jaw, below my ear, and down my neck. Looking up at him, I found his eyes riveted on me.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

“You,” he replied equally as soft. “I’m utterly enchanted by you.” He took my face in his hand and turned me fully toward him. He pressed a wonderfully tender kiss to my lips. “I love you so much…more than I ever thought it possible to love another person.”

My heart had a mild seizure at his words. The emotions he invoked in me were so strong, so intense, and so powerful that it rocked through me.

“I love you, too,” I told him.

How lame that he can tell me such awesome things while I just parrot the watered down version of the words back to him. I wish I could make him feel how he makes me feel. It’s not like I don’t have the inspiration. I just never think to utter the words out loud.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I just wish…” Shaking my head, I gave him a little smile. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to dance with a boy who’s taller than me,” I told him, completely ignoring the truth of my thoughts. “I only went to one dance in high school, and it was homecoming in tenth grade. My boyfriend couldn’t go, so I ended up going with my friend, Jimi.”