Chapter 20
James
It only takes three days before I can no longer resist her siren call. When we agreed to keep things casual and set an end date, we agreed to try not to overwhelm each other or grow too attached. Her words.
I meant to keep my distance, I really did, yet here I am, at the bar on a night that I don’t even play, watching her from my table off to the side.
I’m not in the habit of following my conquests to their workplaces, but Stella is different.
Even being in the same room with her is better than nothing.
She hasn’t noticed me since I walked in here, so I’ve been free to observe her, frankly, genius technique. She’s friendly without being overly flirty, she’s dressed sexy, not quite slutty, and she works hard enough that her effort is noticeable and clearly appreciated.
I miss the colourful, bold, clearly thrifted outfits she usually wears, but I have to admire the calculated clothing choice she makes when she works the bar.
She smiles at each one as if they’re her only focus, she chats them up, and then she takes them for all they’re worth, never once crossing the bar.
She’s a fucking shark in a tiny white shirt and tight fucking jeans.
All night I watch a parade of idiots flirt with her as she leans over the bar, overtip her, touch the back of her hand as she gives them their drinks.
I watch her face light up in amusement at their antics, pocketing the extra cash.
I’m careful, knowing that Beck put up cameras after Hazel was threatened a few months ago.
If I want to keep this under people’s noses and out of their attention, I need to be cautious.
I wait until the bar has mostly emptied, until Mel has left, leaving Stella to restock the bar and lock up.
When she leaves to grab more product from the back, I follow her to the storage room—the one where I got my first taste of her—and close the door behind us.
It shuts loudly and she spins around, alarmed.
“James, what are you doing here? I thought everyone was gone.”
I slowly walk toward her, backing her into the shelf behind her until she’s pressed against it, her neck craning to look up at me.
I lean down, brushing my mouth against hers, breathing in her sweet scent.
Her hands grab my shirt, fisting the fabric as she steadies herself, her breaths coming faster until I finally slide my lips against hers, sealing her to me.
I swallow each of her moans. They all belong to me. Each shiver and scream, each eye roll. They’re all mine and I will take them at my leisure. I don’t care that I’m being a selfish bastard, I will take anything she gives me and then some.
My hand dives into her jeans and under her panties, her hips jerking as she cries out. I find her slit, teasing her opening as she tries to maneuver herself onto me, her body demanding what she can’t ask for.
“Did you miss me, sunshine?”
“You wish, stud.” She’s still bucking against me. “I can take care of my needs without stalking people.” I love it when she’s bratty with me. I’ll take any reason to punish her.
Without any more buildup, I push two fingers into her and watch with smug satisfaction as her head lolls back, her eyes rolling as she adjusts to the intrusion. Her channel flutters around my fingers and I smirk. The thought of this is what’s had me salivating since I last had her.
“Feels like a part of you missed me. Still don’t want to admit it?” She shakes her head aggressively, her eyes squeezed shut and her breaths shallow. I slow my pace, making her whimper as her hips chase my hand.
“Are you sure you don’t want something more than my fingers?
Are you sure you didn’t miss how my cock filled you up, how I stuffed you so full you couldn’t breathe?
Couldn’t move?” I revel in the scowl she directs at me, and I purposefully curl the digits inside her to brush against the soft, spongy spot.
Her thighs tremble, her scowl faltering.
“I’m pretty sure you want me to fuck you, sunshine.” Her eyes fly open, her hands buried in my hair, anchoring herself to me. “You want me inside of you again.” It’s unavoidable. I need to make her admit it. I need to hear that she wants me as much as I’ve been dreaming of her.
“We’re in public,” she slurs. “I work here.”
“You do, but everyone has gone home, and you still want my cock, don’t you?” My pace is torturous, keeping her right on the edge without giving her enough to tip over. I could happily keep her here forever, wanton and needy, dripping all over my hand.
But she can’t.
It takes mere minutes before I see a tear drip down her face, her gasping breaths turning to sobs.
“Please, please, James. I can’t take this, please make me come!”
“I think you can take more. You can come like this, can’t you, sweetheart?” Just to drive home the message, I lessen the pressure just enough for her to turn murderous. She regards me for a moment before her expression turns devious.
“Make me come, James,” she purrs as she unzips my jeans, taking me out into her hands. I may have won the battle, but something tells me she’ll be winning the war.
Ripping her pants off of her, I hoist her up like the night we met, gripping her thighs as her back hits the shelf. I pause, waiting to see if she’s hurt. She doesn’t even seem to notice, only pulling me closer, reaching between us and notching me at her core.
I don’t have a fucking condom. I pause, cursing my lack of forethought. We don’t have to fuck. I can control myself. I can still get both of us where we need to be. I can hold myself back, like I promised I would when I came here tonight.
Cause that worked so fucking well. I hate that I consider myself a reasonable man, pride myself on it, actually.
Because as my crown slowly breaches her pussy, I am no longer that reasonable man.
Stella has unraveled me, making all reason head for the fucking hills.
A drop of sweat drips down my neck as I hold myself back, working up the strength to pull out and put her down.
“I’m on the pill,” she says, answering the question my brain is too scrambled to put together.
“This is okay?” She nods profusely.
That’s all I need before I’m sinking into her, sheathing myself in her greedy little pussy.
She grips me so damn hard, pulling me into her, it’s like she’s trying to steal my soul through my dick.
If I was nice, I’d give her time to adjust, but my bratty little sunshine isn’t going to get that tonight.
“Oh god!” she cries, her voice breaking as I thrust into her relentlessly.
“Are you sure you didn’t miss me?” I purr into her ear as she thrashes against me.
“Fine! Yes, I missed you!” Her shout rings out through the room. Satisfaction rushes through me at her confession. She puts on a front despite how much we both know how much she loves this.
“I’ve missed you too, sunshine. I’ve missed how tight you squeeze around me,” I roll my hips hard, leaving her gasping.
“I’ve missed those unbelievable sounds that you make.
Fuck, just the memory of the mess I made of your cunt has me coming every goddamn night.
” I increase my pace, earning myself a long, slow whine.
I slap my palm over her mouth, remembering that the cameras have mics, and she grips my hand, her other arm clinging to my shoulders, dragging me in closer.
I thank my lucky fucking stars that the closest camera would only have caught me going into the closet with her, but I can’t risk them hearing her noises. Those are only for me. It takes only a few thrusts before she shatters around me, writhing over my length and dragging me with her.
Our orgasms leave us both panting, twisted up in each other. I don’t let her go right away, needing to prolong the moment. One that I am going to ensure happens again.
And again and again.
“Come back to my place with me,” I murmur to her.
“And have Maria catch us? Not a chance,” she says, sliding down the wall and wiggling awkwardly back into her jeans, mess and all, before giving me a sly look.
“Then let me drive you home.” Her brows draw together, contemplating. “Please.” I know she’s too sweet to say no to manners, and if I have to exploit that, then so be it.
“Okay, stud.” She smiles, whipping through the last of her tasks before slipping her hand in mine and leading me to my car.
Stella chats my ear off the whole drive. She never seems to mind that I don’t respond a lot. She lets me get away with one-word answers and grunts, which I appreciate. I get so lost in what she’s saying to me, it startles me to realize we’ve reached her apartment.
Walking into her place again is a trip. The last time I was here, I was so single-minded that I didn’t pay a lick of attention to my surroundings.
Now that I’m not as focused, I take my time looking around.
It’s a small studio with her kitchen right by the front door and her bed pressed up against the far window.
I can see a door off to the right that must be the bathroom, but that’s pretty much it.
She’s done her best with the space, decorating and adding shelving. It still reads as a temporary space. A gap-filler.
“Wow, that is a LOT of postcards,” I comment, gesturing to the walls covered in pictures of faraway places. How did I not notice this last time?
You were face-deep in her pussy.
Right.
“No, it’s not! It’s a perfectly normal amount,” she protests while filling up two glasses from the sink.
“Okay, why do you have a perfectly normal amount of postcards covering your walls?” I take a seat on her bed. It’s maybe a little presumptuous, but there’s next to nowhere to sit here and I’m worried her loveseat will break if I plunk down there.
“Smartass,” she says, rolling her eyes. “They’re places I want to travel to.” She brushes her fingertips across the one closest to her lovingly.