Chapter 24 Nick
NICK
Her words alone are going to make me cum right now.
I never knew her potty mouth would be my biggest fucking turn-on.
Her warm silky mouth is back on my cock and I try not to think about how good it feels.
I lean my head back and close my eyes because if I continue to look at her with my cock in her perfect mouth, then I’ll explode.
Think about the grilled cheese sandwich. Think about the restaurant.
I’ve been with pretty women before, but no one has even come close to Melanie.
She was the whole damn package, as much as I can’t stand her prissy ass, I had to admit she was a bombshell.
Perky tits, long sculpted legs, small waist, bubble-butt ass.
But those blue eyes are what would be the death of me, and her think luscious hair is one of my favorites, I loved pretty hair on women, it’s why I only fucked chics from behind because it was the least intimate position since I didn’t have to worry about kissing them or making eye contact while I fucked them until they saw stars.
It was an added bonus; I didn’t have to worry about how pretty they were in the face, and as long as they had good hair, I could get off.
Melanie moaned, snapping me out of my spiral. She was sucking my dick like it was the best thing she ever tasted, and I relished in it. Mel was down on her knees, taking my monster cock like a champ and I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“I’m going to c-” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before I was blowing my load all in her mouth, and she took it without even missing a beat.
When I looked down, she’s whipping some cum that spilled onto the side of her mouth with her finger and licking it off with a huge smile on her face, like she had conquered the big bad wolf in the best way possible.
She gets up, sits back down, and takes a sip of her water before saying, “Truth or dare.”
She still wants to play this game?
We are obviously going to take the no-sex thing off the table, which was fine with me, because all I want to do is fuck her now.
It’s been a minute since I fucked a chick, given the restaurant takes up a lot of my time, and I haven’t had the desire to have sex with anyone that’s hit on me there or slipped me their phone number.
It was a big turn-off when women chased me because I liked the chase and the challenge.
It gave me that sense of adrenaline rush like I got when I was on active duty.
She takes a bite of her cold grilled sandwich with victory written all over her face. Okay, she wants to play, so let’s play.
“Dare,” I tell her. Hoping she dares me to eat her pussy now. Because, even though I'm not one to do relationships, I'm not a selfish guy either. I make sure all the girls I fuck cum first.
“I dare you to watch me play with myself, and not touch me..”
Was she fucking serious? She was, because before I could process what she had just said, she was standing and sliding her pajama pants down her long legs.
Tipping her head to the side, she says, “Well?” She arches one brow, “You up for the challenge?”
By the look on her face, she thinks I can do it, but she has another thing coming, literally.
She wants to prove me wrong and prove she's right. That all men are weak dogs, and that may be true for most men, but not me. I like to put up a fight. It’s what made me so good at being a tier-one operator.
“Do your worst, princess,” and at that, I feel her energy shift, like she’s transforming into a new person. I watch as she brings her hands to the sides of her hot pink panties and slides them down her sexy legs. My heart nearly stops.
She has the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.
I swallow hard, trying not to let my excitement show, but my other head betrays me.
I feel my erection strain against my boxers but right now, I don’t give a fuck.
She sits back down in the chair, and she spreads her legs wide, giving me a front-row seat of her pretty pussy.
For a second, I wondered if I’d died and gone to heaven because one minute we were eating grilled cheese sandwiches, and now I’m thinking of eating her.
I would love to feast on her, see what she tastes like, hear her cum into my mouth when she rides my dick.
See her tits bounce as I fuck her raw and hard.
She leans back a little and starts caressing her breasts with one hand as she licks her other hand, bringing her fingers to her sweet spot.
She begins to rub small circles around her clit nice and slow at first, and I can’t take my eyes away from this beautiful Jezebel as she pleasured herself.
Moans and hums leave her mouth as I watch her breath quickening.
Her chest moving up and down faster and faster, as she continues to rub her clit more aggressively now, then when I think she’s about to cum, she slips two fingers inside and starts fucking herself.
I’m taking mental notes of every move she makes so I know what she likes and how to make her cum her brains out.
My eyes still glued on her, I take my dick out my boxers and pretend to be inside her.
Ripping her pajama top off, I desperately wanted to know what her breasts felt like against my chest. Her pussy wrapped around my cock.
After witnessing how pretty her pussy was, I knew her tits would be just as perfect.
I begin stroking my cock as she fucks her pussy with her hand. In and out, in and out.
Then, as she tips her head back up to face me, a slow smile forms across her pretty lips, “You like what you see, soldier?”
I clench my teeth together. She’s expecting me to fail, to take my hands off my dick and shove it up that pretty pussy, and although I want it more than I want to breathe right now, I’m not letting her win this sick and twisted game to prove her toxic heart she’s wrong.
“Yes,” I seethed.
She lets out a soft seductive hum, “ I wonder what that big cock would feel like inside me, soldier. You’re so big I bet you would make me cum in seconds.”
She begins rubbing her clit faster now. “Feel that dick pulsate in my tight pussy.”
Her breathing quickens, “Would you like that soldier?”
“Yes,” I nearly growled, and for a second, I wanted to say screw it and yank her off that chair bend her over and fuck her on the kitchen table, but I also don’t want to disrupt her orgasm, because I can tell she’s close.
I was in a trance watching her body move.
Her hips swaying in a melodical dance. She was so damn beautiful.
“Your cum tasted so good, Nick, I want to taste you again. I want to fuck your mouth so bad.”
Jesus, the mouth on this girl was like a porn star.
“You can have it anytime princess, We are married.”
“Fake marriage,” she breathed out.
“But real orgasm."
She bit her lower lip, stifling a laugh as I watched her work her clit into a frenzy. Then she reached for one of her breasts with her free hand and squeezed, “Oh God, I’m going to cum,” she dips her head back again.
“Cum baby, fucking cum.” I mutter under my breath and my dick dances as her body unravels and her arousal spills onto the chair, dripping slowly down the sides and onto the floor.
Fuck that’s hot.
Her body pulsates a little more, riding out her orgasm.
“Shit,” I say before I release my orgasm onto the floor, wishing it was inside her instead.
I see her body relax into the chair as her eyes flutter open. We’re both panting from the much-needed release from all the built-up tension between us. When she comes back down from her high, she lifts her head back up to face me, quirking an eyebrow, and says, “I’m impressed.”
I’m not sure what she was referring to exactly. Was it my dick? Because I didn’t touch her? Or I came twice within fifteen minutes, which I haven’t done since I was in my twenties.
But before I could ask what she meant, she slipped up her panties and pajama pants and walked past me towards the stairs.
“See you tomorrow at two.”
And just like that, she’s gone and back in bed.
I look back down at the messy kitchen floor with my dick still out, trying to piece together what the hell just happened.
And the only thing I could focus on was how damn excited I was to make grilled cheese sandwiches tomorrow night.
I slipped out early this morning, before Mel even stirred.
Out of some twisted sense of decency, I let her dog out so she could sleep without the mutt clawing at her.
After last night, I didn’t know how to face her, so I didn’t.
I spent the whole damn day avoiding her, my mind spinning like a loose wheel.
I didn’t want her getting any stupid ideas about what this was. No fairy tale ending waiting at the end of this thing. But, seeing as she hadn’t clung to me, hadn’t begged for more, hadn’t even tried to kiss me, I wasn’t sweating it too hard.
Still, it scraped something raw in me. No woman had ever just walked away like what we did meant nothing.
I shook my head, forcing myself back into focus.
This marriage is about Diablo’s money, not feelings.
If my math was right, the extra income would shove my restaurant out of the red in ten months, maybe less.
The marketing plan I’d mapped out was still a pipe dream without cash for TV spots. I needed another way to get asses in seats — but social media wasn’t my game. I kept Facebook around to stalk old Army buddies and watch over my sister, not to hand over my life story to the Feds.
The clock glared back at me — almost rush hour. I stretched, feeling the tightness in my muscles, and headed for the kitchen.
LeRoy’s voice was already slicing through the noise.
“Order up!”
I rounded the corner and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You need help with anything?”
Without looking up, he plated a veal pasta, smooth and fast. “Ya, how about you go find your wife and tell her her food’s getting cold? She’s got an eight top and I haven’t seen her since I said ‘order up’ fifteen minutes ago.”
“Are you serious?”
“No, I’m lying.” He finally glanced at me, deadpan.
“She’s been here a month. You’d think she knows better by now.”
“You married her after knowing her a few weeks, so we all aren’t fast learners, are we?”
“Watch it,” I said, my voice slicing sharper than I intended.
LeRoy didn’t know Melanie was diabetic. She could be crashing somewhere, maybe in the bathroom, trying to fix it. The kitchen tickets told me we’d been slammed tonight. She had reason to be lagging.
Still, unease crawled up my spine as I stepped onto the floor.
Alexa caught my eye, her smile stretched wide. Too wide. I ignored her and moved toward the private dinner section where we hosted bigger groups.
The second I rounded the corner, I saw her.
And felt like I’d been punched straight in the gut.
Some asshole had her on his lap, his arm curled possessively around her waist while someone snapped a picture.
She bolted upright when she spotted me, stepping away from him too fast, like she already knew the firestorm about to hit.
The table roared with drunken laughter. I swallowed down the surge of rage clawing up my throat. Couldn’t lose it here.
I forced a smile so tight it hurt.
“Good evening, gentlemen. How’s everything going?”
Eight sets of eyes swung my way.
“Great, we told your staff she’s been the best waitress ever,” one guy said, slurring a little.
Her cheeks flushed — not from pride. Embarrassment.
“My wife is the best,” I said, sliding an arm around her waist, feeling the tremor she couldn’t hide.
“Wife?” a voice repeated, crushed.
“Your wife is hot,” another chimed in.
“Thank you,” I said, voice steel under velvet.
“Man, just when I thought the prettiest girl would be going home with me tonight.”
My eyes cut to the voice — a cocky prick sitting close to me. A napkin sat in front of him, a number and a name scrawled across it.
Blood roared in my ears.
I picked up the napkin and flicked it lazily in the air. “Who’s Johnny?”
“That’s me,” the guy across said, grinning like he owned the world. Tall. Handsome. The kind of bastard who is used to getting exactly what he wants. His smirk curdled something black in me.
“Johnny, did you not notice the ring on her finger?”
I held up Melanie’s hand for emphasis.
“It’s fine,” she snapped, yanking it back.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Johnny said, his eyes bloodshot and stupid with booze.
“But that’s never stopped beautiful chicks before.”
“Excuse me?” I leaned in, my voice dropping lower.
He dragged a hand through expensive hair, flashing a Rolex. Trust fund baby, no doubt.
“You heard me. It wouldn’t be the first time a married woman was riding my c—”
I grabbed his collar, dragging him halfway across the table before the words could finish. Chairs scraped back. Glasses rattled.
“If you finish that sentence, I will throw you out of the restaurant myself.”
Hands pressed against my shoulder.
“Nick, it’s fine. Let him go, and come with me to check on their order,” Melanie whispered against my ear — too close, too sweet, too necessary.
She moved away, and I let her, but my glare pinned Johnny in place.
“Ya man, it’s okay, chill out,” someone muttered from the side.
I shoved Johnny back, hard. His chair skidded, and he nearly toppled, scrambling to fix his dress shirt and shattered pride.
“My friend didn’t mean any harm,” a pudgy preppy type said.
“In fact, you should consider it a compliment.”
I arched a brow, slow and deadly. “A compliment?”
“In the sense your wife’s getting hit on. Ya know, some wives are never desired after they’re married, so that’s what I mean by a compliment.”
I tore the napkin into shreds, letting the pieces flutter down like dead leaves.
“Thanks, but we won’t be needing your compliments. Enjoy your meal, gentlemen.”
Without another word, I turned and headed back to the kitchen, the weight of Mel’s scent still clinging to my clothes, the taste of rage still bitter on my tongue.