Chapter 33
T hat evening Ever goes for her regular seat, the one to the right of her father’s. Arthur always sits at the head of whatever table we’re at, with Ever on his right and me directly across from her on his left. I’ve eaten enough meals with the motorcycle mogul to know he’s right-handed.
I need to put myself between the two, but don’t see a way to do it without raising suspicion. Fuck it. This is probably gonna start a fight but what’s new?
“Why don’t you sit next to me tonight?” I suggest to Ever, earning myself a nasty sneer I was expecting but still don’t like to see directed at me.
“Why? So you don’t have to look at me?”
She has no idea. None. I’m lucky enough that Ever Munreaux’s the sun, but if she were the moon, I’d become nocturnal just to gaze at her every night.
“Not exactly,” I say while prodding her back…all the way over to my side of the table.
Because she’s still pissy about this morning, she sits two chairs away from mine. Since I don’t know if Arthur’s even gonna be okay with her sitting somewhere else, let alone that far down the table, I have no choice but to pull out the chair next to her and take a seat. If he makes her move, I’m moving, too. Arthur’s not getting close enough to hurt Ever again, not on my watch.
The second my ass touches the cushion, Ever’s shoving to her feet again.
I grab her elbow.
“I’m sorry, okay?”
She shakes me off, but doesn’t move, hopefully waiting for me to expand on that. I don’t really know what to say. Other than the truth.
“I fucked up. This morning was—”
“Oh, don’t even try pulling the regret card right now.”
“I’m not.” The only thing I regret—
The only things I regret are not getting Ever to the finish line and how I acted after finding out I didn’t.
“You think I regret… that ?” I say vaguely since I’m not sure when Arthur will be barging in here.
“You acted like it.”
“And you acted like a—”
“Dog?”
Although Ever can be a bitch, she’s no dog. I shouldn’t have made the collar and leash comment. That was out of line. But once again, she lied to me. All she fucking does is lie. She lied about those bruises on her hips. She lied about that test this morning.
I wanted her stripped down, at her most vulnerable with me, and I thought she was. She was completely bared to me, standing over my face, fucking my tongue, and still, motherfucking still, she put up a front. She could’ve told me. She could’ve said it wasn’t doing it for her. I would’ve stopped. Instantly. I would’ve done anything she fucking wanted me to. All she had to do was be honest. But she can’t. She’d rather keep up the tough exterior that she uses with everyone else.
I hate that she doesn’t see me differently. I hate that I don’t know how to be different. How the fuck am I supposed to break down her walls when I’m still scaling my own? I tried last night. I tried really fucking hard. I’ve never been good with girls. I’ve never been with girls, not like that.
Regardless, I know how I behaved was wrong. I’m not a total dumbfuck. Just irrational…when it comes to Ever Munreaux.
“You know you’re not a dog, Ever. You could never be a dog.” She doesn’t budge, so I try a joke, saying, “Dogs don’t even fly.”
Not even that does the trick, her face hard as she glares at me.
The door swings open, cracking Ever’s facade as she redirects her attention to whoever just came through it. Only after she sits down do I follow her lead, giving Edwin the floor.
“Mr. Munreaux sends his apologies that he won’t be joining you two for dinner tonight.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I tell the valet.
Chef Ryan strolls in behind him with his hands full of our plates. He makes it a point to regard us as he sets each one down, questioning, “Was there something wrong with the previous seating arrangement?”
“Yeah, Mr. Brantley—”
“Miss Munreaux,” I speak over Ever, practically booming, “had an issue with her food this afternoon when a piece of chicken got stuck in her throat.”
That’s a real thing. Apparently, people choke on chicken a crazy amount. My mom’s hairdresser does. Once, when she went to the emergency room for it, the doctor called her a “chicken choker.”
Both men’s eyes widen, their jaws dropping.
“Momentarily,” I add. “Thankfully, I was able to perform the Heimlich maneuver right away and dislodge it. She’s been a little shaken up ever since though, so I thought it best to sit next to her in case it happens again.”
“You’re a hero,” Edwin praises, his worn gaze on mine.
Used to the opposite sentiment being hurled at me, all I can do is give him a tight smile.
Ryan’s eyes, however, are all for Ever as he looks her over. “Are you all right, miss?”
“Ahem.” I clear my throat, readjusting in my chair. “She’s fine.”
The chef doesn’t so much as blink, as if I didn’t even speak.
“Would you like me to cut your steak into smaller bites for you?” he offers her, like I didn’t think of that. If she was a real chicken choker, I would’ve.
“I can—”
“That is so sweet of you,” Ever croons.
I cut my glare over to her. She can’t possibly mean that. She didn’t even say that when I did her hair for her.
So quick I almost miss it, she glances my way, then she’s sitting up and propping her chin on her interlocked fingers, focusing on her chef again. The chef. Ryan’s her dad’s chef. He’s nothing to her.
He better be nothing to her.
“But I don’t think that’ll be necessary. If you wouldn’t mind cutting up Mr. Brantley’s food though…” Her hand covering her mouth from my view, she mock-whispers, “He’s not a very strong eater either.”
Oh, hell fucking no. Did she just imply I can’t eat pussy? I’m a very strong eater, in every regard. I was off my game this morning…or something. I don’t know what went wrong. I let her lead. Lesson learned. Won’t happen again—the letting-Ever-lead part. The other part…it will happen again. Soon.
Now, in fact.
“Maybe I should stay—”
“No, you can go,” I tell Ryan, my eyes drilling into the side of Ever’s face. I don’t give a fuck this isn’t my house. I don’t give a fuck this isn’t my staff. Ever is my protectee. I will see to her needs.
Every.
Last.
One.
Of.
Them.
“Um…” Ryan lingers, a hand out at our food—the food I no longer have any interest in, not because I’m a weak eater like Ever just claimed, but because I got my eye on something much, much more appealing. The second we’re alone, Ever’s getting devoured.
“Yes, well, before I go…” Ryan jumps into his descriptions, but I don’t hear a word. I’m too busy counting down the seconds ’til he disappears from my periphery. Get the fuck out of here, Ryan. I’m about to gorge and I don’t want an audience, especially not for the first bite. Oh, I’m fucking biting. I’m throwing everything I got into it this time. Ever won’t be able to say shit about me not putting in enough effort after tonight.
I quickly take a single bite of the pork medallion and give a half-assed, “Mm.”
Ever draws out her first bite, taking her sweet time.
On their way out, I tell Edwin and Ryan, “I’ll bring our dishes out when we’re finished.” No need to bother us again. Now fuck off.
“That was curt,” Ever scolds as soon as it’s just us, but she has no room to talk. She’s never been remotely pleasant to Chef Ryan…until today.
With one swipe of my arm, I slide everything in front of me to the spot to my right. My glass of ice water wobbles but I don’t bother steadying it. If it falls, it falls.
“What are you—”
Ever’s pulled on to my lap next, both of us hissing when she lands on my hard-on, and because I can’t resist, I thrust up into her.
“Excuse you. I’m trying to eat.”
“So am I.”
I push the back of her head down, her face pressed to the table’s smooth surface. Her ass lifts in the process, giving me a fantastic view of it after one flick of her skirt. She’s wearing panties but they’re stretched thin from the angle, making them almost translucent. Still working with little to no restraint, I bend down and bite one perfect globe.
“Crue,” she whisper-shouts with a back arch I feel in my balls.
“Still think I’m not a strong eater?”
“I’ve been bitten harder by mosquitoes.”
I half-scoff, half-laugh before tearing her underwear in the middle, exposing her ass crack and hole.
Palms on the table, Ever tries to push up, but one drag of my tongue up an ass cheek has her staying in place, stomach down, ass and head up, just the way I want my dinner—on display.
I’m dying to give her a rim job but worry about eating her pussy after. With all the research I’ve had to do on female anatomy lately, I’ve learned pussies are complicated. They’re overly sensitive to some things but not others. They can take a pounding from a ten-inch cock no problem. But if a single strand of a different bacteria is introduced? Jesus Christ. Out of commission for days, sometimes weeks. After the instant potato fiasco, I can’t fuck up Ever’s levels again. As a newly converted cuntarian, I wouldn’t survive weeks without a taste of hers.
I rip the hole in the fabric bigger until I see the pussy that occupied most, if not all, of my thoughts today. Goddamn, it’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. Every fucking bit of her.
I lick those wet lips, making them even wetter.
“My father—”
“Isn’t here,” I whisper, then run my tongue up her slit, coating the tip in her juices before swallowing them down with a moan.
Days. I wouldn’t last days without this.
Ever attempts to stifle her own moan.
“But what if he walks in?”
I almost snort. Arthur Munreaux doesn’t run late. He doesn’t hurry from one thing to the next. And he sure as hell doesn’t make it a point to catch up with his daughter.
“No one’s coming in here,” I tell her confidently, because that’s the truth—nobody checks in on Ever to see how she’s doing. If it weren’t for me, she’d be alone in this house all the goddamn time.
Before I got here, she was alone in this house all the goddamn time.
We’re kinda the same in that way. Except my loneliness was a choice. And I was never completely alone. Through everything, I’ve always had parents who love and interact with me. From what I’ve seen, Arthur rarely interacts with Ever, and he…doesn’t love her. I don’t think he does. He’s never once acted like it, and if he’s uttered the words, it wasn’t around me.
That realization makes me understand Ever a little bit better. She’s not unlovable. She’s just unloved. She’s not a bitch—
Well, she is. Ever Munreaux is definitely a bitch…but she has reason to be. Sometimes. She had no reason to insult my oral skills, especially not to another man.
Unless it’s true… Was I really that terrible this morning?
It was the technique. It wasn’t mine. I was trying to compete with a motherfucking teddy bear. I’m a red-blooded man with enough moving parts to please a woman in multiple ways, all at once, damn it.
Kicking my chair out behind me, I kneel on the floor. I don’t dive right in though, instead hovering close to her entrance and just breathing, the cool air teasing Ever’s thighs and causing goose bumps. I kiss each one, making my way in, but still not touching her center…yet.
Up, down, all around, I lick everywhere but Ever’s hole.
All of a sudden, her slim hand appears under her, and I watch mesmerized as two of her fingers dip into her wetness before swirling over her clit.
I catch her wrist and suck those fingers clean.
I hear a frustrated, “Crue,” and smile around the digits. I couldn’t resist.
Returning her fingertips to her clit, I say, “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Her fingers immediately start circling the swollen nub.
I resume my teasing, loving the way she’s shaking already. Tongue flat and wide, I rub against her bare pussy lips, prepping her, then I make it pointed and spear between her folds, fucking her so deep her nails nick my chin.
Pulling back out, I bend down lower and burrow between her fingers to suck her clit between my lips, rotating my tongue over it.
“Oh my Goddess.”
Easing up so her fingers can continue, I shower her in compliments, my breath more liquid than air as it sprays her pussy lips.
“You’re so beautiful. You’re fucking perfect. I want you to come for me. Come on my face, my hand. Give me everything, everywhere. I want it. I want you.”
I grab both ass cheeks and thrust my tongue inside her cunt, groaning at the feel, the taste, the warmth. Jesus fuck, I could live in Ever’s pussy.
I help her pop her hips, fucking me as much as I’m fucking her.
Her movements grow irregular and small cries of pleasure escape her, telling me she’s close.
She tries clenching her ass cheeks together, but I spread them apart, forcing her down on me harder. Some animalistic sound echoes through the dining room, then her walls squeeze my tongue, coating it in cum.
“Good girl,” I say after a wet kiss to her quivering lips. No blue lips for her tonight. She came and she came hard.
And that was only the first.
Her fingers on her clit have slowed but are still moving.
Getting to my feet, I slip two of my own fingers into her soaked pussy, pumping in and out with a bit of an arc upward that runs my thumb up her crack.
Her ass bucks up again, driving me crazy. I want to bury myself in every part of her, including this ass.
“Crue, I’m making a mess,” she complains, only mildly convincing.
I press a kiss to the back of her neck. Against the skin, I whisper, “You better.”
On a moan, she lifts her head and for a second I think she’ll turn it over her shoulder so I can kiss her, but she doesn’t.
“Head down, ass up, Ever. I haven’t gotten enough to eat yet.” Not even close.
Almost instantly she drops her forehead to the table and sends her ass into the air for me.
I bite back a grin. This is how this morning should’ve gone. There’s nothing fake about any of this.
I replace my fingers with my thumb, stimulating her G-spot with it while my drenched fingers join hers at her clit, then I lean down to flatten my tongue against her asshole.
“Oh, God—” Ever’s words morph into incoherent noises.
Did she forget she told me to eat her ass the first day we met?
I didn’t.
Several strokes like that, then I run a soft tongue up and down until she relaxes there a bit. After I switch to figure eights, she’s loosened up enough for me to poke the puckered hole with the tip of my tongue.
“Fuck,” she pants.
Exactly what I was thinking, little bat.
Slowly, I start to tongue-fuck her asshole, paying close attention to her body for any sign she wants me to stop. Her deep moan spurs me on, so I grab her thigh and knead the flesh roughly. In my pants, my hard cock leaks, making me wish I had a third hand to jerk myself off. I’d come all over Ever’s ass, painting her in my cum, then I’d finger-fuck her ass with it, making sure I mark her in there, too.
I groan at the fantasy, setting off Ever’s climax. She comes harder than before. Keeping my hand where it is, just slowing my movements like Ever did after her first O, I gently withdraw my tongue to nibble her ass cheeks on their descent.
I kiss and suck down to her thighs, praising her for coming, for trusting me.
“You can stop,” I say as I pull my hand away from her cunt.
The hand beneath her goes limp but she doesn’t try removing her arm, fully collapsed on her mahogany dining room table.
That’s a sight I could get used to.
After I return her to her chair, I retrieve mine.
Settling into it again, I say, “I’d like to see your bear do that.”
Surprisingly, Ever chuckles. “You’re ridiculous.”
I look over at her and take a mental picture of the sight. Slumped in her chair like her backbone is made of gelatin, her black hair is damp at the hairline, she has a red imprint on her forehead, and I swear to God her eyes have stars in them. One thing’s wrong though. She’s too far away.
One-handed, I drag her chair a few inches closer to mine.
“Yeah? You’re delicious.” I jerk a nod at her. “Eat your steak salad before I hand-feed it to you.”
“I can feed myself,” she says, laughter infusing her voice.
I know she can…but I’d still do it for her if she let me.