Page 13 of Love Starves

I shrug a shoulder, admitting to neither. Remembering the severely scarred Maisie and the fight in her gaze, I realize we're one in the same. We're all fighting a battle. Some are simply more visible than others. I'd bet that every single one of those women have good reasons for being there more than sharing books. As much as I'm going to look forward to uncovering as many secrets of theirs as I can, that same guilt burns in my gut, making me not want to share a bit of it with the man sitting across from me.

"Yay, wolf porn," I jest, changing the subject after. "So, enough about me, tell me more about yourself, Ryan."

Our lunch gets dropped off in the middle of his explanation of being an only child from New Mexico. His life is the American dream of doting parents and a white picket fence. I find myself wanting to ask if he had a cute little dog in his perfect life out west to make the whole scene complete, but I catch myself just in time before the bitchiness pops out. Contrary to what I'd thought earlier about not eating, the soft cadence of Ryan's voice and being so caught up in his life story, I more than push the food around on my plate like normal. I actually end up scarfing three-quarters of it before I even realize it's gone. Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that every time I feel a bitchy comment coming, I choose to pop another bite in my mouth to keep it occupied. Yeah, that's probably the real reason my plate is cleaner than I'd anticipated.

With our date coming to a close, Ryan takes the ticket before I can think about reaching for it. As he hands over his card to pay, he asks me, "So, what are your plans after you finish school? Do you have a dream job in mind?"

Funny he's asking after I'd just been thinking the other day about how stuck I am with no choices in the matter. Another thing, if I answer truthfully then I'll have to tell him exactly who he had himself a date with today. For reasons I'd rather not explore, I decide to keep that much a secret for as long as I can. People tend to see dollar signs and do one-eighties on their personalities. I like that he's not fawning over my family's money yet and, hopefully, wants me for me. Fuck, that sounds lame, even inside my own head.

"I'm going into business once I finish college," I tell him finally. It's vague enough to answer his question without giving too much away.

He nods. "That's cool. I haven't really decided too much. I'm kind of putting feelers out to get an idea for what I might be happy doing for the rest of my life."

Jealousy stirs the food in my belly, making me feel the need to puke. To have that kind of freedom must be nice. Being rich is grand, too, but money pales in comparison to freedom.

"That sounds like a great plan," I reply, masking all feelings. "Would you excuse me for a minute? Need to make a dash to the ladies before we leave?"

"Sure, sure," he says with a grin.

I could fall head-over-stupid-fucking-heels for this man, and it wouldn't make one bit of difference. He would never be good enough in my father's eyes to be anything more than a fuck buddy with a Clemonte. Just like Giovanni and the others. I can feel my lunch trying to force it's way back up my stomach into my throat as I stand. Swallowing several times, I try to keep it down. There's seriously nothing worse than puking in a public restroom. It's bad enough having to use one period.

Shoving the door wide, there's no space in my mind to be thankful that I didn't just smack someone in the face with it. Stalking to the tiny sink, my hands land on either side of it bracing myself up while I try to fight the nausea. The quiet snick sound of a lock has my chin jerking up toward the mirror. My brain registers the pale, sweaty pallor of my own face seconds before latching onto the furious expression on the face of the man behind me.

Narrowing my eyes in the mirror at him, I hiss, "What are you doing in here?"

By the time the words leave my mouth, I ascertain that the sound had been the door lock sliding into place since the man has now closed the distance between us in two steps. A flame-ridden tattooed hand wraps around my throat, and I'm jerked backward into a stone-chiseled chest. Hot breath stirs the hair around my ear and my thighs clench around the sensation it sends straight between my legs.

"I think I'm the one who needs to be asking the questions right now, don't you?" Crue all but growls.

Call me a freak but being in this position with his anger riding so close to the surface, it makes me want him more than I ever have. Grinding my ass back against the bulge in his pants rewards me with a tightening of his fingers around my throat. His face dips down to the groove between my neck and shoulder as I take a second to enjoy the view. With his head shaved all the way down to skin except the smaller mohawk, I find myself wanting to fist the dirty-blond locks between my fingers so I can keep him latched onto the spot he's showering with attention. Each clipped love bite sending a jolt to my pussy. He's taller than me by a few inches, making it easy to check out his broad, muscled, black-tank-top-clad shoulders over my own. Then his light-brown, anger-filled gaze finds mine in the mirror and I forget how to think.

In one quick motion, he's maneuvered us to where he's got me pinned with my back against the wall. My nipples strain at the lacy fabric of my bra as his hard muscles drags down the hardened peaks when he leans down to drop a hand to my thigh. It wastes no time finding its way underneath my skirt to slide my thong out of the way and push a finger then two inside of me. Crue has always been rougher than the others and I revel in it. Every. Single. Time.

I'm astounded that the man has the courtesy to check to see if I'm ready for him right now. Generally, he's getting seconds or thirds after everyone else, and I'm already worked up. All thoughts flee my mind as his fingers hook inside of me and begin a fast pump all the while finding my clit with his thumb to work it over. My legs threaten to buckle as my orgasm cuts close to the surface. Just as I can feel it about to push me over, Crue retreats, lifting his fingers to his mouth to suck my juices from them.

I curse him under my breath and a wicked smirk flashes across his face. "I should leave you wanting like this. Make you walk back out there with that fucking guy without getting off, knowing you were so close to having cock."

Whether it's meant as a dare or not, I definitely take it that way. Plus, maybe I want to push him a little harder and see how pissed I can truly make him. Bringing my lips to his ear, I whisper, "Maybe I'll just go ride his cock instead."

The sound that erupts from his chest would put any of those wolf boys in that book to shame. Rough hands spin me around and slam my chest against the wall right before they lift the back of my skirt exposing my bare ass to the now warmed air of the room. One quick flick of his wrist and I hear the small piece of fabric nestled between my cheeks rip. The sound of a zipper is loud in the space between us. In a single blink, he's slammed his cock into me so hard our bodies thud against the wall. If I were able to form coherent thoughts, I'd likely laugh at what people might be assuming the things going on in here. As it is, I'm being fucked brainless and couldn't possibly care about anything else.

After pounding us into the wall for a bit longer, Crue grabs my hips, dragging us both back to the sink all the while keeping his cock sunk as deep as it can go. His thighs push between mine, spreading my legs wider as he shoves at my back, making me arch over the sink. When he slams into me this time, his balls slap my clit and almost send me right into an orgasm after the teasing from before. My head drops into my hands where my forearms are holding me up on the sink. A sharp pain at my scalp registers before my head is being yanked back up to stare directly into the mirror. Crue’s fist is wrapped around my hair and he's tugging. Hard. Catching sight of his sexy-as-fucking-sin Adonis belt as his hips piston into me matched with the pressure at my skull and the continuous slap on my clit, the orgasm finally catches up. My lips part in a silent scream as my eyelids clench closed. After a couple more breaths before I've come all the way down, he tenses behind me and lets out the deepest of groans that almost sends me right over into a second one.

When I can find the strength to open my eyes again, it's to find him staring at our reflection. He leans over my back without pulling out or breaking our gazes apart. "Whose cock are you riding, again?"

I couldn't answer him even if I had some sort of comeback as he chooses to separate us at this moment, leaving my body to shudder at the loss.

"Don't worry," he states in that low tone while tucking himself back inside his pants. "You're going to have more than that one question to answer later."

My mouth is ready to quip back a smart-ass retort, but my body seems to have other plans. Skin warms under his gaze as he gives me a once over from head to toe. Without bothering to help me right myself, he unlocks the door and walks out. Embarrassingly enough I catch sight of an employee with a key in their hand before it has a chance to close again. If they'd had any doubts as to the goings on in their restroom, I'm sure we just fixed it. Refusing to be humiliated in the way Crue’s possibly trying to make me right now, I ease the ripped scrap of fabric down my hips before burying them in the trash can. It's bad enough to make the staff uncomfortable by almost catching us in the act. I'm not going to go as far as to make them further witness our depravity by leaving my discarded panties on top of the bag they'll be taking out later.

Running fingers through my hair, I try to straighten the mess Crue’s made of it. I can't do anything about the sweaty sheen coating visible skin or the bright red of my cheeks, so once I've tamed my hair, I pick a stall to clean the remnants of him running down the inside of my thigh. After another quick look in the mirror and a wash of my hands, I take a deep breath and make my way back out into the restaurant. In the throes of being fucked and barely busted, it's almost easy to forget what had me escaping to the restroom in the first place. As soon as my nose is accosted by the scents of the place, it all comes rushing back, and all of a sudden, I'd rather be anywhere but here.

Backtracking to our table where Ryan still patiently waits, I don't bother sitting down before snatching up my purse. "I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling all that great anymore. I need to go."

He looks worried as he stands to lift a hand to my face. I flinch away instinctively. The feel of Crue still making my skin tingle.

Ryan isn't offended in the least. He simply drops his hand back down as he says, "You don't look so well. Your face is flushed. Think you might've gotten food poisoning?"

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