Page 74 of No Small Sin

He put one hand on the wheel and another in his pocket, turning to face forward as he pulled off in the direction of his first hole of the day.

Or, I guess it was his second?

“Did you plan on actually playing today, or were you just wanting to sit your cute ass here and read while I do?” He knew me a little too well.

“What difference does it make now?” I asked, shifting uneasily in my seat. “Not like I can do much of anything now, aside from trying to focus on not dying.”

“Oh, baby. It’s killing you already?” I squeaked, jolting in my seat when the toy began to pulse inside my ass. “Youpoor thing.”

I supposed this was what I deserved for falling in love with a man who got off on literal torture.

“Be a good girl for me and try not to make too much of a mess of the seat. I would hate to have to make you lick it clean.”

FUCK me.

I spent the next three and a half hours in sheer agony, watching as this sexy —absolute motherfucker, because fuck him for this one —played the game he loved while edging me into a fucking puddle of feral goo.

I eyeballed him each time he swung, his muscles straining against the thin material of his white shirt. I was unable to form a single intelligible thought aside from how badly I wanted to drop to my knees and take his thick cock down my throat.

He pulled back around to the entrance and led me inside to the showers. I could barely walk without assistance, but tugged my small gym bag over my shoulder and went into the women’s locker room to clean up while he went into the men’s to do the same.

It was the oppressive kind of hot outside here nearly year round, so it didn’t matter that all I’d done was sit on the cart and suffer. I was sweaty and gross and definitely needed a quick wash before going into the restaurant to eat.

As I was toweling off, I remembered that there were not many other people around today and Beck was one hundred percent in the showers alone.

I tugged on a clean crop top and a pair of loose, flowy runner’s shorts that had most definitely never been running, wincing at the constant pressure in my ass.

Tossing my hair up into a quick messy bun, I bolted out the door and headed in the direction of the men’s showers.

Beck must have finished up around the same time I did because I ran smack into him as he was exiting the locker room.

With my hand on his chest, I attempted to shove him back through the heavy door.

He refused to budge, grasping my wrist and removing me from him as he turned me away from him and ushered me toward the restaurant.

“I’ve had e-fucking-nough,Beck,” I whined. “I need your cock.”

He continued walking me like a fucking dog toward a table near the far window. “I’ll let you know when you’ve had enough. Now,sit.”

Bitch, indeed.

He pulled a chair out for me and plopped me down into it, causing me to flinch and take in a sharp breath.

I was plotting my revenge — death by unfinished blow job — when the waitress came over to take our orders.

The toy began to vibrate again, this time a constant buzz. I gave Beck a death glare. He talked to the woman with a cocky smirk on his face — something about Caesar salad — his eyes never leaving mine as he spoke.

“And for you?” She said, turning to face me. And then immediately asked, “Are you okay?”

At the exact moment I opened my mouth to speak, Beck turned the vibration to a much higher intensity and I was pretty certain she could hear the buzzing now.

I snapped my mouth shut, focusing all of my attention on the decorative glass cylinder of seashells in the middle of the table.

Damn, those were some nice seashells.

“My wife just got a little overheated out there today. Didn’t you, love?” He scooted my chair next to his, jostling me unpleasantly. He stroked up and down my back. “Could you bring her some water?” He placed a chaste kiss on my temple. “And I think she’d also like a salad.”

He better be fucking thankful that I actually did want the salad.

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