Page 7 of The First Deal

“What do you apologise with?” I asked, trying not to move my mouth too much so that I didn’t look like a complete nutjob eating her sad little pudding all alone while talking to herself.

Something warm feathered over my exposed cunt. His breath? Then he spoke, confirming my suspicions, sending a flood of heat to my core. “My tongue.”

He released my legs, giving me the chance to snap them closed, probably crushing his pretty head in the process, and then when I didn’t, he followed through. The tip of his tongue teased its way with one slow, gentle lick. He circled, teasing, then started again. I sucked in a sharp breath each time his tongue pressed to my clit, more and more pressure each time, until he was lapping at me like the dessert he had craved so desperately.

I was trying not to pant or moan. I shoved mouthful after mouthful of gelato in. My fingers were shaking, my eyes watering, my cries of pleasure kept muted in my throat as I continued to eat.

And so did he.

Shane ate my pussy until my legs began to tremble. Then his fingers were joining in, dipping into me, working so nicely with that expert tongue until I was trying my goddamn hardest not to come. Not yet. I wanted more, so much fucking more, and he was going to stay there, driving me to the edge, until my bowl was clean.

His fingers slipped out of me just as I pushed the spoon between my lips one final time. They spread me wider, holding me open as Shane’s tongue rapidly flicked over my clit, and as the spoon fell back into the empty bowl with a loud clatter, I came.

Shit.

No.

I didn’t just come. I fucking squirted. Biting down on my lower lip as I attempted to hide my pleasure. The man beneath the table was no doubt fucking drenched in me. It felt as though it was never-ending, and his tongue never stopped, fingers didn’t move. Shane held me in place and enjoyed every second of my messy release until I finally released my lip and exhaled, loud enough to draw Diane’s attention.

“How was it?” she asked as she came over to the table and Shane finally stopped and moved away, leaving my body to tremble from the waist down. “Oh, do you need a glass of water? You look quite flushed. Are you feeling well?”

“Water would be great, thank you.”

She came back with a tall, cold glass, which I downed with greedy gulps until it was empty. She took the glass away along with my empty bowl and I slipped a napkin under the table, dried my soaked pussy, ass, and legs as best I could without looking suspicious, and then tossed the napkin, hoping it might have hit Shane in the face.

Then I pushed my chair back, told Diane to charge Shane for the meal—seeing as he obviously came here often—then walked away, leaving my date under our table as my legs wobbled slightly, and my cheeks flushed again at the realisation of exactly what I had just done.

Back in the car, I told Bo to take me home, then sent a text to Shane.

Hannah:Apology accepted.

3

She was unbelievable. When I first laid eyes on her I had a feeling that she’d be the type of woman who would keep any man on his toes, but the way she had come all over my face and left me under that damn table was something else.

I was in awe.

I had never been in awe of a woman before in my entire life, at least, not in this way. I had over their music, but that was different to this.

Last night, I had knelt under that table, peeking out every couple of minutes, until the restaurant had cleared out and none of the staff were lurking nearby. I had snuck out, managing to avoid being seen by anyone. Now I was on my way back to settle our bill, something that I really should have done last night, but I had no idea how I’d explain myself.

Diane was crossing the floor as I entered the restaurant, she looked flustered, all red-faced and wide-eyed. I caught her attention, and she scowled at me before barking instructions to the chef and storming over to me.

“Good afternoon, Diane. How are you today?” I grinned at her, but her expression didn’t change.

“You’re a mean man, Mr Hudson. Leaving that poor girl all alone, you should be ashamed of yourself,” she scolded, tutting and shaking her head disapprovingly.

It only made me smile wider. “Oh, Diane. She knows how sorry I am, I apologised profusely. Promise.”

I made a crossing gesture over my chest then shoved my hand into my pocket, producing my wallet and trying not to think about the exact way that I had apologised to Hannah. I swear I could still taste her.

Diane narrowed her eyes at me, then reluctantly guided me over to settle the outstanding bill. “She seemed like a nice girl, much nicer than the last one you brought in here.”

“So, you’ll call me out and judge my taste in women, but you won’t call me by my name? Interesting,” I observed.

“I’m a professional, Mr Hudson,” Diane said, her lips twitching as I laughed sarcastically in response.

“Of course you are.” I winked, and once the bill was settled, I pushed a wad of twenties into her hand. “I like it when you call me out, you should do it more often.”

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