Chapter 10 #2
I dunno. I guess I was feeling a little naughty that morning after how he’d reacted to his blowjob last night. I wanted to do shit for him and see if he’d accept it.
He did look a little surprised and confused when he emerged—looking fucking delicious in that button-up shirt tucked into his jeans—and discovered the omelet I’d made. “You cooked?”
I gestured grandly with the spatula. “I do know how to scramble eggs. Try it.”
His brows went up as he bit into it. “This is actually pretty good.”
“Actually?” I snorted, then deepened my voice for an impression of him. “Actually, Stevie, this doesn’t completely suck ass.”
“It doesn’t,” he assured me with a straight face as he continued to eat. “Much.”
I snorted with laughter again and joined him at the table. But inside, I was wondering what it was going to take for him to see my efforts to care for him. And appreciate them.
On the walk to town, I twined my fingers through his.
Eastshore Isle really was adorable, wasn’t it? We stopped at Meli’s Bake Shoppe to place another order for Garrak’s donuts, and I got to meet Meli’s Mate Cairo, who had a scowl to rival Brakkor’s.
We ran into Tanis—I recognized him from social media—and his Mate Ashlyn outside of Pattie’s. They were staring up at the Victorian-era facade and discussing something as we approached, and Garrak explained that Ashlyn owned most of the historic district and was slowly restoring it.
A little further on, I met Luxor walking his dog Seamus, who had stopped to chat with Varron, whom I recognized from poker night, and kept sending us smirks.
Each time we met with one of the orcs, they treated Garrak with respect, and he asked them questions that proved he was genuinely interested in their lives.
I realized I was watching him with pride I had no right to feel.
They were the reason he was doing what he was doing. He was building a community center to bring them all together, to give them a place to belong, a place to integrate with Eastshore Isle completely.
Could I help? How?
He’d listened to some of my suggestions before, maybe I could ask him about his plans for programs and activities…
After we said goodbye to Luxor and Varron, we turned left on Seashell Avenue, and I saw a sign for Second Time’s A Charm.
“Oh, a thrift and antique store!” I gasped, already tugging Garrak toward it. “Do you mind if we stop?”
“Why?” he asked with a frown.
“Because I’ve been wearing the same three shirts and pair of jeans since I got here. You might not have noticed, but I’ve started washing my undies in the bathroom sink.”
“I noticed,” he growled, following me. “But I’ve already ordered—” He bit his words off. “Stevie, you don’t need to wear used clothing—”
I scoffed. “Garrak, I’ve been thrifting my whole life. It’s fun to find treasures. Let’s go see.”
I was particularly interested in finding another pair of pants, maybe a few shirts, so I could take my current stuff to the laundry area in the basement.
As we pushed open the door, the little old lady behind the counter didn’t even look up. “Good morning,” I called to her cheerfully. “It’s a lovely day!”
She started, then blinked at us. “Oh, good morning! It’s a lovely day outside today, isn’t it?”
My smile grew as I realized she hadn’t heard us come in. “Hi! I’m Stevie. I’m looking for women’s clothing.”
“My name’s Mavis, dear, and I’m sorry, but I don’t think I have anything that will fit your gentleman friend.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and peered at both of us. “You’re free to look, though.”
I was trying not to laugh at our communication problems. “Okay, thank you,” I said as I pulled Garrak toward the far wall where the aisles were labeled pants, shirts, skirts.
“What, dear?” the woman called.
And my laughter burst out as I waved. “Thank you!” I all but yelled, and I heard Garrak snort softly.
“This will only take a minute,” I assured him, tugging him toward the pants aisle. “Just wait here.”
With a little roll of his eyes, he crossed his arms and rested his weight against one of the bookshelves that lined the back wall.
The aisle dividers were built up to over six feet, but if I stretched on my toes, I could just see the front counter with Mavis.
There was no one else here that I could see.
Quickly, I pulled two pairs of pants that I thought would fit, and a pair of jeans.
Not a lot of options, so I hurried over to the skirt section.
Oh, these were better options. I had no objection to wearing skirts, as long as there were pockets.
Smirking, I pulled out a little purple miniskirt that I had no practical use for and threw it into my pile.
“I’ll be right back,” I called to Garrak, heading for the dressing room. “Just give me a minute.”
“Take your time, dkaar,” he rumbled. “I’m not going to rush you.”
Well, that was nice of him to acknowledge that I could find something of value here. Still, I wasted no time in stripping off my jeans and trying on my new finds. The not-so-new jeans fit well enough, as did one of the skirts. Then I tried on the miniskirt, and my brows rose.
Oh, wow.
I twisted to the side, admiring the way my ass looked in it. Mischievously, I wriggled my way out of my panties, and had to admit that I was impressed by how I felt. Feeling naughty, I reached for the curtain on the dressing room and stuck my head out.
Garrak had moved closer, but was still standing there, looking bored.
I hissed at him, and his gaze slanted my way. I knew the moment he really saw me, because he slowly straightened, his gaze going all hot as he raked me. I was barefoot against the cold linoleum floor, but I knew my tight shirt accentuated my tits sufficiently, and that skirt…
I twirled, making sure to flip it as I did, giving him a little peek. “What do you think?” I whispered, half-giggling, half-scared of being caught.
Garrak had lowered his arms, and now he stalked toward me. I resisted the urge to back up, knowing I’d teased him on purpose.
“What do I think?” he growled.
He caught me, his hand going to my jaw, his thumb against my lips, owning me. I whimpered at the show of strength, my heart thundering in my ears, as my pussy flooded with liquid heat. The way his nostrils flared told me he knew it too.
“I think…” He leaned down so his lips were by my ear. “I think I’m going to buy that for you. But first I need to try it out.”
Try it—
I gasped when Garrak used his hold on me to twist me around and yank me back against him. His cock was hard and thick, pressed against my lower back, and I moaned loudly as I rubbed against him like a cat begging to be petted.
His hand pushed aside the skirt, fingers dipping into my wet folds from the front, as his other hand clamped across my mouth, hiding my moans at what he was doing to me. I undulated against him, begging for his cock.
God, I was his little slut, wasn’t I?
“You want this?” he whispered harshly in my ear.
Mutely, I nodded eagerly, his palm covering most of my face.
“You think you can take it like this?”
I knew I could.
He reached for his cock without releasing me, freeing it from his jeans as he lifted and settled me in place. When he began to push into me, right there in the aisle of the Second Time’s A Charm, I couldn’t help the way I moaned against his palm.
“Shut up, you desperate little slut,” he hissed in my ear. “Take this cock like a good girl and don’t make a sound.” He was almost in. “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? You don’t want anyone to know what I’m doing to you, do you? You don’t want them to know what a needy little slut you are.”
Then I was fully seated, speared by his cock, and even discounting orc biology, I probably would have come just from how fucking dirty the whole thing felt. He was fucking me in public, and I was begging for it.
I came hard, my mewls and whimpers caught by his hand as he hissed, “Quietly,” into my ear.
If he hadn’t been holding his hand over my mouth, I don’t doubt even the little lady at the front desk would have heard me.
At last, I slumped against him, completely drained by that orgasm, supported only by his cock and his hold on me. I felt Garrak’s breath on my neck as he huffed slightly.
“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss against my neck. “Now, go put on your underwear so no other males can smell your pleasure, and I’ll pay for your purchases.”
By the time he let me down, and I managed to make myself presentable once more, he was waiting by the front door with my bags, making small talk—or rather, small-yelling—with Mavis.
He grinned smugly when I finally emerged, afraid my burning cheeks were going to give me away, and offered me his arm.
“Shall we go to the building site?”
I smoothed down my t-shirt and took a deep breath, linking my arm in his. “I like shopping with you, Garrak.”
He chuckled as we left the store. “Then we’ll have to do it again.”
Did he like fucking me in public as much as I’d liked it?
Holy shit, I can’t believe we did that.
I remembered the way he’d looked down at me last night, like he was addicted to the feel of this. But now I was beginning to think I was addicted to him.
How in the world was I supposed to keep from falling in love?