Chapter 11
eleven
Barry
My heart is pounding.
It has been thudding in these quick staccato beats ever since Petra slid into the spot beside me in the second row of the ceremony.
She’s wearing this dove gray slip dress with little straps that crisscross her back.
Her hair is loose and a little wild, because she never had the chance to do it this morning.
She’s not wearing her usual eye makeup and she looks so goddamn soft right now with her glowing green eyes and rosy lips, as she flits around the candlelit reception hall. Smiling, sweet, effusive.
So sexy that the zipper of my pants is nearly bursting.
Unfortunately, every woman in the room wants to speak with her about makeup.
I guess I should be happy none of the men are approaching her.
Maybe that has something to do with the way I follow her around the hall, making sure she always remains in my literal shadow. I’m being overprotective and needy, but so be it. I want to absorb every moment with Petra that I can.
We’re on a clock and it’s ticking down.
My grandmother beckons to me from a few yards away. Keeping Petra in my sights, I move to sit down beside my grandmother’s wheelchair. Dolly follows my line of sight to Petra, where it has been all afternoon and evening.
“When do you plan to make an honest woman out of her, Barry?”
If only it was that easy.
Confess my feelings. Propose. Keep her forever.
The whole point of bringing Petra to this wedding was to give Dolly reassurance that I’d found someone to spend the rest of my life with, but now that the moment has arrived, I find myself incapable of lying to my grandmother.
Especially about my relationship with Petra, something that feels purer and more honest to me than anything I’ve ever experienced.
I swallow hard. “She’s young. I don’t know if she’s ready to settle down.”
Especially with me. I leave that part out.
Petra chooses that moment to seek me out, her energy verging on nervous until she spots me, her shoulders relaxing. “I know a girl in love when I see one,” Dolly remarks.
I wish I could believe what my grandmother is saying.
But I’ve gone so long believing myself unlovable that…I can’t. Not completely.
Not when this whole thing started as a job. Something I hired her to do.
To give me the girlfriend treatment.
I’m obviously reading too much into the affection she’s showing me. After all, she’s terrified of me getting her pregnant, probably because the idea of being tied to me sounds like the end of the world.
“Don’t leave any words unspoken, Barry,” says Dolly. “You don’t want to have regrets. Not when you’ve found something special.”
“Yeah,” I manage around the tightness in my throat.
She elbows me. “Go ask her to dance. Everyone else has occupied her long enough.”
“Damn right,” I growl. “Can’t they see she’s exhausted? She’s swaying.”
As if on cue, Petra looks at me again, signaling me with a flurry of blinks, and I practically lunge in her direction, heartened by my grandmother’s laugh behind me.
“Excuse me,” I thunder as soon as I reach the group of women commandeering my date.
“If you want to talk to her any more about makeup, I suggest you make an appointment.”
Everyone splits.
Quickly.
She looks up at me and sniffles. “I missed you.”
My knee joints feel loose, like I might drop like a stone. “I missed you, too.”
She presses her cheek to the center of my chest. “Can we go somewhere to be alone, please?”
A pulse booms in my balls. “Back to the room?”
“I don’t think we should leave the party so early,” she says, chewing her lip and looking around at the festivities, which are indeed still in full swing. “Maybe just…a private spot? Where you can kiss me for a little while?”
I make a harsh, eager sound. “There’s a…” God, I can barely speak, I’m breathing so hard. “A small lounge through that curtain. In case they need additional space, I think. For a party. But no one is in there now.”
She strokes her hand up and down between my pecs.
“Perfect.” The music is muffled in my ears, conversations bleeding into a dull roar of noise as I twine our fingers together, guiding her through the crowd toward that black velvet curtain.
As soon as we’re on the other side of it, the noise level drops significantly, the near-dark enveloping us.
I passed this room earlier on the way back from the bathroom.
There is a small, unmanned bar on one side, tables and chairs on the other.
A cushy leather bench runs the perimeter of the space, and Petra tugs me that way now.
A moment later, I’m being urged onto the wide leather bench, Petra straddling my lap in her silky little dress, the straps slipping down her arms.
“I missed you,” she whispers again, perching her hands on my shoulders.
Scooting closer until her pussy is nestled against my bulge, her head falling back on a throaty moan, as if she’s been craving the feel of me.
Our mouths lock in a long, winding kiss, my hands climbing her smooth thighs and sneaking beneath the hem of her dress, palms working her ass cheeks, the kiss steadily growing heated. So heated that I have to break for air. So…loving, too. Isn’t it?
Am I imagining the affection she’s pouring into every stroke of her tongue?
“Petra,” I rasp.
Her eyes search mine. Hopeful? “Yes?”
“I don’t…I can’t let this weekend be the last time I see you.”
She makes a little whimpering sound and snuggles closer. “I don’t want this weekend to be the last time I see you, either, Barry.”
Relief sucker punches me.
It’s short-lived, though.
Because…what now? What comes next?
Do I ask her to come see me in my deserted cabin? Forty miles from civilization?
Do I ask this vibrant nineteen-year-old to change her life to suit mine?
To never leave my side again.
No, I can’t do that, can I?
“I could come to Vegas next weekend,” I suggest, not wanting to scare her. Not wanting to assume too much about how she feels. “We could get a hotel room…”
Her breathing slows.
She blinks rapidly.
I’m trying to decipher her reaction when she smiles suddenly. Like a feline.
Somehow, I know that reaction is telling. I’m just not sure in which way.
Good or bad?
Petra leans in close, perching her lips on top of mine while rubbing her pussy up and down my hard cock, slowly, slowly.
“An overnight date? That’s going to cost you.
” My brain is fuzz, so I don’t process her words.
Not right away. And then I’m lost, because she kisses me, her tongue tangling with mine.
“Although, you get a deep discount, don’t you, baby?
” she whispers, riding me through my pants. “Because you make me come so hard.”
My head falls back on a moan when she starts to unbuckle my pants.
I should stop her. I should clarify what I meant.
This wouldn’t be a paid date, even if I would pay for everything.
I would be her boyfriend.
But maybe…paying is the only way to see her? Is that the reality? And I’ve been living in a fantasy land all weekend?
“You’ve controlled yourself so well today,” she purrs, delving her hand into my tuxedo pants to stroke me through my boxers. “How many hours did you spend wanting to put this inside of me?”
“All of them, princess,” I heave, raggedly. “Every minute. Every hour.”
“But you waited. Used your self-control, like I taught you.” I can’t believe my eyes or my good fortune when she slips down to her knees on the floor and begins kissing her way up my cockstand. “I think that deserves a nice reward.”
I throw a frantic glance toward the curtain.
She’s going to suck my dick right here and now? Where anyone could walk in?
When I look back down at the gorgeous princess kneeling in front of me and she shimmies her dress down to her waist, arching her back to give me a good look at her bouncy little tits, I know I don’t have a hope in hell of stopping her.
No, no, I want this too bad. I’m so hard, my molars ache.
“Please,” I grunt, panting. “Please, princess.”
With a feline smile, she untucks my shaft from the waistband of my boxers, gasping when it slaps up against her lips with a thick thud, my stomach hollowing and heaving just to see my dick so close to that ripe, succulent mouth.
“Oh Christ, oh Christ, Oh Christ…” I hiss, watching her lick me up, down, up, testing the head with a noisy suckle. “Huuuuuuh,” I groan, wincing at the acute pleasure.
Her eyes light up at the taste.
Light up like she’s just had her first bite of ice cream.
“Yummy,” she whispers, cramming me into her mouth with excited eyes. Eyes that remain locked on me, unraveling me, while she works my pulsating johnson in and out of her sweet, wet mouth, mewling with enjoyment. “Mmmmm.”
“Oh lord.”
“Mmmmm.”
There is no anatomical way this young girl, hell, any female, could get all those inches inside of their mouth, but damn if Petra doesn’t try.
She clasps my turgid pole in her hands and slips them high and low, bathing me in deep sucks, saliva dripping off my cock, her chin, her knuckles.
She is ravenous for what she’s having, her teeth even getting in the mix.
Lightly scraping my sensitive ridges, her tongue working my slit.
I have no clue how I refrain from busting when she’s gobbling me down, poking herself in the throat with my tip and making me spurt, spuuuuurt until she’s coughing, my thighs jumping every which way.
But I dig my fingers into her hair and hold on, manspreading and pulsing my hips up toward her mouth in the crudest fuck of a girl so innocent, but it’s instinct and she loves it, whining for more.
Sucking me harder.
My balls begin to boil and gurgle.
Oh fuck. No. I don’t want this to end.
“Petra,” I grind out. “I’m going to erupt. Come sit that little cunt on me.”
She frees my inches from her mouth, lips swollen to shit, eyes glazed over. “It’s your reward,” she murmurs, climbing up to straddle me again. “You get it how you want it.”