Lauren Blakely - Night After Night

“Looks like he’ll be here any second. What about you? You ready?”

“I think I might be,” she said in a choppy voice, trying so hard not to give an inch.

But he was hitting her where her body sang, turning her up, all the way on. And if she were alone with him, she’d have grabbed his shoulders and held on hard. Instead, she gripped the edge of the stool, her sharp nails digging into the wood, surely leaving scratch marks, as she channeled there all her desires to writhe and moan and let herself bathe in the bliss of the orgasm that rocketed through her body. She was coming, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The orgasm was on a high-speed chase, tearing around curves, racing through every cell. Julia Bell was coming at the bar, eyes wide open, lips sealed shut, body still as still could be. Every inch of her was lit up and ignited.

The waiter set down their plates as her entire body buzzed with the delicious tingles of an orgasm she hid fiercely.

“Your risotto, miss,” he said, gesturing to the plate. Then he set down Clay’s meal. “Do you need anything else?”

“I believe I have everything I could possibly want,” Clay said, then flashed a quick smile, before turning to her. “What about you? Do you need anything more?”

“I’m good,” she said, her eyes bugging out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said with a satisfied sigh, that one syllable strung out, the only hint of what had just gone down.

The waiter left, and she picked up her fork. “I am famished.”

“You deserve some sort of award for that performance.”

“My reward will be torturing you when you least expect it.”

“I will count down the seconds until that kind of torture comes my way.”

Her phone woke her up in the morning.

She’d turned the damn thing off last night, seeing as she was spent and exhausted from her time with Clay, but now it was buzzing. McKenna probably wanted more details on last night since they always shared these kind of tidbits with each other – not the nitty gritty sex details, but the so you really like him part. It had been a long time since Julia had actually liked someone. Even with Dillon, even as it ended, the really like him feelings had faded well before. Sure, she’d fallen for him in the start, for his self-deprecating humor, for his piercing blue eyes, for the sweet nothings he whispered to her that made her feel special.

She met him when he was one of her students at a weekend class she’d been teaching at a boutique bar in Noe Valley on the art of making cocktails. She’d taken on the class before she bought a stake in Cubic Z; the class helped supplement her bartending income. And Dillon had been her finest student, his keen eye for detail giving him a leg up as he mixed and matched the perfect amounts.

“You, sir, concocted a most excellent margarita,” she told him.

He’d tapped the side of the glass, and said, “Someday I’ll be sipping this in Bora Bora or the Bahamas.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice. Sitting on a hammock in the sun with a nice cool drink.”

“Blue skies and mixed drinks,” he added. “A perfect getaway.”

One time, after everyone else had left, he hung back, raised his hand as if in a classroom, and asked. “I have a question. I know student-teacher relationships are generally forbidden. Does that apply to bartending school too?”

“Terribly forbidden. Violates all sorts of mixed drink laws,” she teased.

“Call me guilty then,” he said, then asked her out.

They’d gone to a Turkish restaurant in Russian Hill for the first date, then for a walk through that neighborhood. A photographer, he’d made a decent wage shooting interiors of homes in the city for realtors, so he showed her the outside of some of the homes he shot, including a rather tiny one that he’d made look palatial in a picture. He used to say that with the right angled shot, he could make any room look “spacious, open and well-lit.”

Later, after they became a couple, he was the one who had encouraged her to expand her role at Cubic Z, and to invest in the bar. She didn’t regret that decision, not one bit, though she sure as hell regretted him, and wished she’d gotten out sooner.

All his sweetness had leaked away by the end, and they were merely holding on. Until he left. The unraveling of that relationship wasn’t what hurt; it was the way it fell to pieces that stung like snake poison. The way she had to bear the brunt of the breakup and all he heaped on her, and she couldn’t even tell McKenna the specifics. Julia ached to pour out all the sordid details at times especially because her sister understood heartache. But McKenna understood happiness too. Newly engaged to a man who made her wildly happy, McKenna was in that haze of believing that every new relationship would turn out to be the one, so Julia fully expected a text asking her when she was going to get engaged.

Ha. As if Julia were ever going to do that.

She fumbled for her phone, unlocking the screen. McKenna’s name popped up and the first word she saw was size. She shook her head in amusement. She wasn’t sure if her sister was talking about ring fingers or other measurements, but before she could open the note another text flashed.

Where is the pretty bartender? She wasn’t at the bar last night. She should hope she’s not skipping town. I wouldn’t want to have to inquire with that other woman behind the bar. She seems like she might be preoccupied, and more so in a few more months…

Her blood ran cold. He’d noticed Kim and her pregnant belly.

She wanted to punch the screen. That slimeball had gone to Cubic Z for one of his pop-ins. Those were the worst, when she had to serve him, and act like she didn’t detest him as she poured his martinis. She hoped he hadn’t bothered Kim last night or her hubby Craig who was helping her out, or anyone else they worked with. She didn’t want him near her co-workers. She could only imagine how that would go down, especially when Charlie took out his knife and nonchalantly scratched his chin. Those gestures were meant for her – reminders of what he was capable of.

And he was capable of a lot more than just itching a scratch.

She’d gotten glimpses of Charlie’s cold-blooded nature through Dillon. He’d hinted of things he’d seen while shooting pictures of the limos. Punches thrown, knees whacked, noses broken, eyes blackened. Charlie was a man who got what he wanted by any means possible.

Her skin crawled as she imagined him shaking down sweet Kim, the true definition of an innocent bystander.

That was the real rub though. Everyone in her life was an innocent bystander, and she’d have to keep them innocent. The less anyone knew, the less they could get hurt. If they knew about her troubles they’d try to help her, and then they’d be in his debt somehow and his crosshairs.

She swallowed back all her anger, and replied quickly. Of course not. I have the weekend off. Don’t worry - I’ll be at the game Tuesday and I plan on winning big again.

Seconds later, he replied. That confidence is so alluring.

She sneered, then her heart beat faster at the next message. From Kim. You’ll be pleased to know there were no unsavory types here last night. Only the usual assortment of hipsters and VCs. So San Fran. Xoxo

If only Kim knew that there was an unsavory type there last night, scoping them all out. But she planned to be back at the poker table on Tuesday night, working on winning more to line Charlie’s pockets. Playing hard and taking down the marks to get out from under his yoke as soon as she possibly good.

She wrote back: Glad to hear Cubic Z is representing the city so well. Love you madly. See you soon.

She took a deep breath, reminding herself to push her troubles out of her mind for the weekend. She was far away from all her obligations, and she planned to enjoy her temporary break. She shut off the phone as Clay stirred. Good – he hadn’t seen her texting. He’d seemed perturbed last night when she was writing to McKenna, and she didn’t want any weirdness between them. She wanted only good times with Clay, only dessert. This weekend together was the frosting on a scrumptious cupcake. It wasn’t real, and that was A-OK. She sure as hell loved a cupcake, and right now she wanted another bite.

Now was as good a time as any to show this man what kind of wake-up call she could deliver, so she slinked down under the sheets and stroked him a few times, enjoying the low rumbles from his chest as he started to wake up.

She wrapped her lips around him, and instantly his hands were tangled in her hair and he held on tight as she licked and caressed him in her mouth. He groaned loudly, and she thrilled at the sound, at knowing she could do this to him, elicit this sort of reaction.

“Good morning to me,” he murmured in a sleepy voice. His voice was rough, husky from the early hour, and the sound turned her on even more.

She let him fall from her lips momentarily. “It’s going to be a very good morning in a few minutes.”

“That’s all it’s gonna take?”

She arched an eyebrow. “You think I can’t make you come quickly?”

“The verdict is out,” he said with a lazy grin.

She narrowed her eyes. “For that attitude, Clay, you just bought yourself a wicked tease,” she said and returned to his delicious cock, flicking the tip of her tongue up and down his length. He groaned lightly as she licked him, but she stopped short of taking him into her mouth.

“I’m going to take my sweet time now,” she said with a purr.

“I can handle it,” he said.

“I don’t know if you can.” She swirled her tongue around the head, then rubbed him against her lips, watching him as she administered her best torture. His chest rose up and down, and his eyes darkened as he stared at her. “It’s getting harder, isn’t it?”

“It sure is.”

“You still want this? I’m not entirely convinced,” she said, then blew a stream of air across his cock. He twitched against her lips and she quickly kissed the tip, then released him.

He cursed under his breath.

“I didn’t hear you. Are you sure you want me to do this?”

“I want you,” he muttered, and she grinned, knowing how hard it was for him to have the tables turned.

Still, she wasn’t ready to give in. She needed him to want her desperately, to need her terribly. “I think I might require you to ask real nice,” she said, as she cupped his balls, lightly rolling them in her hand, then darting down to give a quick lick and kiss of that most sensitive set of parts. She gripped his shaft hard in her hand as she tasted him, and those twin actions set off a long, long moan from Clay.

“Please,” he whispered, so low it was barely audible.

“I’m not sure I can hear you,” she said, but started giving him his reward, taking him all the way in her mouth, surrounding his hot, hard length with her lips.

He panted hard, and nearly growled at the relief. But she stopped once again, peeking up at him, enjoying the view of his big, strong body stretched out on the sheets. “Do you want it? Ask nicely and I’ll give it to you.”

He shut his eyes briefly, then opened them, holding her gaze. The look was both desperate and hungry. “Please suck me, Julia,” he said, in a hoarse voice.

“Gladly,” she said, and then gave him the full treatment. First hard, then slow, alternating between teasing him and taking him in.

“Maybe not too long now after all,” he said as he gripped her head, sliding his fingers through her hair, tugging as she feasted on him. They kept at it like for a bit, him rocking into her mouth, her savoring him all over. He was quieter than usual though; he wasn’t reeling off directions and telling her what to do. Maybe it was because she’d taken the reins. But then his dirty mouth woke up, as he whispered harshly, “Use your teeth.”

She slowed for a moment, dragging her teeth lightly against his shaft. “Like that?” she asked, glancing up at him.

The look on his face said it all, as his features contorted with pleasure. “Yes. Like that,” he rasped out.

“Damn, you like it rough, don’t you?” she said, and returned to his cock, touching him exactly how he wanted, scraping gently with her teeth as she moved her lips up and down.

“I like it rough, but I also like pretty much anything you to do my cock,” he said, and she took him in further. “Like that,” he hissed out. Then deeper, drawing out a louder groan. “And that’s fucking good too.”