Rule #28 Bartenders know all the good secrets.
Matis
Amelia takes on a whole new form when she’s aroused. She’s slow, still, deliberate. The normally bouncy, fidgety girl is replaced by someone who doesn’t mind slowing down to savor. She delicately balances her arousal like porcelain teacups on a platter.
Don’t move too fast. Don’t scare it away.
Once I make my presence known, she relaxes, letting a smile stretch across her face. When she turns and finds my eyes with her own, I know exactly what she’s thinking because I am thinking it too.
I want to kiss her. If we were anywhere else, I would. I would draw her lithe body into my arms and caress her tongue with my own.
“Bonsoir, Matis. Qu’est-ce que je te sers?” The bartender interrupts our longing gaze to ask for my drink order, and I give her a polite smile as I reply.
“Un cabernet sauvignon, s’il te pla?t.”
She spins around to get my wine while I hover behind Amelia, caging her in against the bar.
Seeing her in here makes my mouth water, especially in that dress that looks just innocent enough but just short enough to make men like me wild with the craving to see and feel what she’s hiding underneath.
It’s a simple black dress with thin straps, a modest neckline, and a flowing skirt that stops closer to her ass than her knees.
My fingers toy with the bottom hem, tickling her thighs as she bites back a smile. I’d like to bury my face under this dress and never come up for air. Heaven is under this dress.
Amelia leans back against the bar, her elbows on the cool stone top as her back arches and her legs inch apart, letting me drift my finger up the inside of her thigh.
I’ve only been in here for two minutes, and already I’m being reckless.
I knew this was a mistake, but I don’t have an ounce of restraint in my body when it comes to this woman.
“You two might as well be fucking onstage.”
Yanking my body away from Amelia, I turn my head to see Geo sitting casually beside us. I must not have recognized him when I walked in, which isn’t surprising since I was solely focused on her.
Amelia has her mouth hanging open, clearly speechless and probably a little mortified.
Geo snickers into his whiskey. “Relax, Amelia. I won’t tell.”
“Not even my mother?”
He tilts his head at her. “Not even your mother.”
Daisy and Geo have been friends far longer than he and I have, but Geo has never been the type to balk at forbidden relationships. He won’t even blink an eye at me and my goddaughter. He doesn’t care about age differences, and he doesn’t divulge secrets. Part of being a bartender, I think.
“Thank you,” I mumble to him.
Keeping my distance from Amelia now, I take my wine from the bar and step away from her.
Geo turns toward us as he smiles knowingly. “So this is the girl.”
This catches Amelia’s attention. Her brows lift and she glances at me as if waiting for me to fill in the blanks for her. “What girl?”
“The one who has him ready to settle down.”
“Enough,” I say a bit too aggressively.
Amelia knows how I feel about her. That I love her. That I’d carve the moon out of the sky for her if she asked me to.
But I don’t want her getting ideas about settling down. I don’t need her getting her heart attached to the idea of us being together properly. It’s a promise I can’t keep.
“Oh really?” she asks, ignoring my argument.
“So how long has this been going on?” Geo asks.
I’m squeezing the glass so hard, I worry it will shatter. All I can think is that now two people know, two people very close to Amelia’s family. This secret is getting too heavy, weighed down by every person who is not my best friend knowing something he doesn’t.
Amelia notices my frustration and places a hand on mine. Trying to relax my shoulders, I stare into her knowing eyes. It’s incredible to me how she can calm me so effortlessly. As if she is at home in my mind. In my heart.
Then she turns toward Geo with her shoulders back and a proud sort of smirk on her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chuckles haughtily as he takes a drink. “Well played.”
“Matis is my godfather, Geo. That would be incredibly inappropriate. We’re just good friends, and everyone knows it.”
“That they do,” he replies. Then he looks at me. With a wink, he adds, “She’s a good one, Matis. Don’t let her go.”
With that, he stands from the bar and saunters away toward the back of the club where there’s a room for BDSM exhibitions, the free use wall, and an area for people to mingle.
Once we’re alone, I turn to Amelia with a heavy sigh.
“Relax,” she implores with a smile.
“I can’t relax, Amelia. The more people who know, the angrier your father will be with me when he finds out.”
“He won’t find out,” she replies.
I take a step toward her, eating up the distance between us. “Won’t he? Because I’m standing too close to you. My cock was hard the moment I saw you in this dress. And all I want to do is lift the bottom and fuck you on this bar.”
She lets out a tiny gasp at my words. Her pupils are blown wide as she whispers. “Then maybe you should back up.” The plea is empty and weak, as if she doesn’t really want what she’s asking for.
“I can’t.”
The corner of her mouth twitches. “Why not?”
“Because I’m powerless when it comes to you. Don’t you see what you do to me? Don’t you know what I would do for you?” I lean in, brushing my lips over her cheek and back to her ear. “Let’s get a room, mon trésor.”
She whimpers softly in my ear, and I feel her tremble against me. Any moment, I expect her to reply with a simple word of agreement. Instead, she puts her lips against my ear.
“Those rooms are for sex.”
Now it’s my turn to whimper. “But we haven’t done everything but yet.”
“Then I guess we don’t need a room,” she teases.
My cock throbs at the sound of her sweet voice in my ear.
I can feel the bartender behind her watching us, but I don’t care anymore. Bartenders keep secrets, don’t they? She has no reason to tell a soul what she saw tonight.
Suddenly, Amelia slips out from between my body and the bar. She’s sipping on the tiny red straw in her drink as she walks away from me toward the VIP booths around the dance floor. Before going too far, she turns back toward me.
“Besides, I’m in the mood to watch tonight.”
As she walks away, into the pulsing strobe lights of the club floor, she finds an empty booth and slides in. Meanwhile, I brace myself for what is sure to be an evening of torture. Maybe with her, a lifetime of it.
And I’ll love every fucking second.
Like the lovesick animal I am, I follow her to the booth. It’s a circular sitting area built for privacy. She has moved to the center, giving her a clear view of the dance floor. The walls around the booth are high and the drapery encompassing the table hides certain…activities below from view.
When I first opened the club, everything was far more open than it is now. But that’s because it catered mainly toward the French and more specifically French men. I learned a lot when Ronan and Daisy came along, helping me to run it.
Now, the club is built on inclusivity, catering not to one audience but everyone. From the reserved to the downright lascivious. Every kink represented. Every demographic in mind.
I slide into the booth, staying on the side, giving me more a view of Amelia as she watches the crowd. Seeing her like this, so comfortable in her own skin and sexuality, is not only incredibly arousing, but it’s liberating as well. Looking at her like this makes me feel free.
The music is perfect for Amelia too. Not too erratic and loud.
It’s a sultry beat, enough for people to dance to—or should I say dance to—without being overwhelming.
There is no one performing onstage tonight, but one glance around the booth to the center of the club and I see that there is certainly enough of a crowd out there to give her something to watch.
There are two men grinding on each other so intensely, it looks as if they are seconds away from coming.
There’s a woman dancing completely topless, her arms moving fluidly above her head, and she appears to be free and alone.
Then there’s the two women reaching up each other’s dresses as they kiss fervently while still moving to the music.
Each of them is part of a much bigger collage. They are a moving piece of art, the harmony of sex and pleasure creating a symphony of sound barely heard over the heavy synth beat.
Amelia’s eyes dilate with excitement as she watches them. Condensation drips from her glass as she ignores it, too intoxicated by the blatant display of sex instead.
But I don’t need to see them to be intoxicated. She is enough. Her arousal fills the room like a sweet billowing smoke so I see nothing else.
“You are stunning like this, my sweet girl.”
She looks at me briefly, letting a smile crawl across her lips. Then she bites her lip and turns her attention back to the dancers.
“I was just thinking what it would be like to see you out there,” she mumbles. “Touching that woman. Bending her over. Fucking her mouth.”
My cock throbs as heat courses down my spine. “I don’t want to touch her. I want to touch you.”
The pride inside her shines through her eyes. She likes being mine.
But I also see what she is doing here. She’s trying to find the best of both worlds for us. A world in which I can continue to be the same promiscuous man I’ve always been while she gets to fulfill her voyeuristic side.
“Then touch me,” she whispers.
My molars grind as I stare at her from the other side of the booth. “I can’t, and you know it.”
“Then I guess it’s your turn to watch tonight.” With a mischievous grin, she slides a few inches down the booth, leaning against the back as she slips one hand under the table.
I lose the ability to breathe as I watch the look on her face transform the moment her fingers find her delicious cunt. Her eyes stay focused on the dance floor. Hidden in the dark recesses of this booth, I can’t help but admire how bold and wonderful she is.
Not many women her age would be comfortable doing this here where so many people could see, especially so many people she knows personally. But Amelia is unafraid. She’s grown so much in just the past few weeks, finding herself and owning it proudly.
I feel my cock leak, and I shift in my seat to accommodate my growing size.
“How does it feel?” I whisper loud enough for her to hear over the music.
She exhales as her body fidgets. “It’s wet. It feels…good.”
“Do you know the control you have over them? Watching them. Using them.”
Her voice escapes her lips in a delicate whimper. “Yes.”
“What are you doing, baby? Tell me what you’re doing under this table.”
I move my hips back and forth, searching for pressure or friction to relieve the ache in my pants.
“I’m…touching my clit,” she mewls.
“Let me see your fingers. Get them wet for me.”
Her eyes find mine as she brings her hand out from under the table. There’s a glisten on her skin, moisture stringing between the first two fingers. Reaching across the table, I grab her wrist and bring them to my mouth.
Her lips part as she watches me lick them clean.
“Stroke yourself for me,” she begs. “Let me watch.”
“Not out here,” I reply. “It’s bad enough we’re sitting together like this.”
“Please,” she cries, letting her head hang back, desperation on her lips.
She wants me, needs me even.
And I cannot deny her.
In a rush, I unzip my pants, yanking them apart to reach in and find my throbbing cock. Turning my body toward her, I fist my shaft and start to pump. Hissing from the harsh friction, I keep my eyes on her.
Her gaze drops down to my hand, and it stays glued there as she continues to work her clit under the table.
I wish I could see it, but imagination fills in the blanks for me.
Amelia watches me with intensity, and I know she loves the control she has over me right now.
She’s making me do this. I am performing for her.
But when someone passes by too closely to our booth, I panic and hide my lower half. It was no one and they didn’t even pay us any mind, but the sight of them was unsettling. We are being too reckless. We are asking to be caught.
Just then, a familiar body fills the space, his back to our table as he blocks passersby from seeing what we are doing in this booth. I glance up to see Geo’s hair, illuminated briefly in the back-and-forth strobe light.
I look at Amelia, and she seems to notice the same thing. He’s covering for us.
She grins again, nodding toward my groin. I rotate toward her again and show her my dark pink aching cock. She licks her lips at the sight, and I start working my length again.
I can’t help the moan that comes out as I jack myself off for her pleasure.
She’s rubbing herself with fierceness now.
She’s close to climax, I can tell. Her spine has grown rigid, and her breathing has slowed.
So I focus less on her and more on myself, since that is what she wants to see.
Looking down, I spit in my palm and continue to work myself in fast and slow tempos, chasing my pleasure.
The other hand reaches down, squeezing my balls as I nearly come.
When I hear her hiss, I look up to find her in the throes of her orgasm.
She shudders and fidgets in her seat as she rides out the wave of pleasure.
It’s the most stunning sight, and all I can think about now is how her arousal is coating her finger, probably dripping down her cunt to pool in her pretty little asshole.
Overcome with a desire—no, an urgency—to lap up every drop, I slide under the table and shift toward her bare legs in the darkness.
I am not a small man. My broad shoulders and thick frame fill the space under the table, but I don’t care how comfortable I am. All I care about at the moment is having her sweet release on my tongue.
Yanking her legs toward me, I delight in her loud gasp as she’s tugged even farther toward the edge.
Then I drape her legs over my arms and dive my face between her thighs.
I can’t see a thing down here, but I don’t need to see.
I’m guided by her scent, inhaling her sweet perfume as my tongue finds her swollen, decadent center.
This is the third time in the last twenty-four hours I’ve had my mouth on her like this. I am a ravenous animal for her. It’s as if I’ve never tasted a pussy before today. It is my new addiction.
She trembles in my hands as I lick up the moisture pooling in her folds and, just as I expected, down the seam to her puckered hole. She screams my name as my tongue prods every beautiful inch of her, lapping up her cum like the horny dog I am.