“You’re fucking exquisite,” he whispers, running his tongue from the lobe of my ear up to the top before continuing, “and I think you should know that you have the most beautiful cunt I’ve ever seen…or tasted.”
“I wouldn’t know, I can’t see it from up here,” I joke, a gasp escaping as he firms his grip on my neck, exposing more of it to the scrape of his teeth, “but you feel so damned good. If you don’t keep going, I’ll have to find a way to finish the job myself.”
“So demanding.” He pulls out almost completely before plunging back in and murmuring against my neck, “I can see that next time I’ll have to bring something extra to occupy that mouth of yours so you can’t speak.”
He pulls out and flips me over, capturing my lips with his own and thrusting his tongue into my mouth before I can tell him there won’t be a next time. I whimper into his mouth as he reconnects our bodies and I wrap my legs around his hips. He starts with a gentle in and out, then speeds up, our mouths warring in pace with the pounding of his cock.
Tearing his lips away, he brings up a hand and presses it lightly around my neck, thumb caressing where my pulse throbs. “Is this okay?”
I nod, finding myself trusting him to do it properly even though I don’t know him that well.
His hand tightens a little more as a sob of excitement escapes my throat.
“Are you good?”
The pleasure flooding through me clouds my brain, but I know he’s asking if he’s good to finish. I close my eyes and smile, inclining my head to indicate ‘yes’. He thrust to the hilt once, then twice, and stiffens, his hand automatically releasing its hold on my neck as he rests atop me.
Nothing is said for a few moments, the only sounds in the room our heavy breathing.
When he finally rolls off me, that’s when the panic sets in.
I knew it would happen one day; that I would feel a connection to someone I had sex with. No awkwardness, no fumbling between us. Just straight up pure and amazing sex with a partner who gives me what I need intuitively.
I just hadn’t expected it to be with him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I need to leave. Now.
I jump up and start gathering my clothes.
“What are you doing?”
“I—I need to leave.” Shoving my shirt on, I look around the floor for my underwear. Not seeing them, I just pull on my skirt. “I’m sorry.”
I face him as I hop on one foot to put my heels on.
“Why?” He shoves a hand through his hair and stands. “What’s wrong?”
His confusion is written all over his face, but I can’t explain. He wouldn’t get it. His own words from earlier indicated that he thought this would end up being something more. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to shut him down.
“Thanks for the fuck,” I say cheerfully. “But I’ve really gotta run now.”
His face clouds, irritation at my choice of words combining with his puzzlement at my behavior.
I look away, unable to stand the unexpected guilt that fills me. I grab my phone and purse from the floor, then head toward the door.
“Luna!”
I expect him to come running after me, yet when I look over my shoulder, he is just standing there, grinning.
“This isn’t over, Luna,” he pronounces. “I will see you later.”
I shake my head. “No. No, you won’t.”
And as I exit the room, I realize that my days of being Luna are over.
“Are you all right?”
The voice is Molly’s.
It’s Wednesday morning and I’m hiding in the office, head down on the desk.
I shake my head without lifting it, causing the papers under my arm to shuffle. I hear her sigh as she approaches me.
“It’ll work out,” she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “There has to be something that can be done.”
Her words, so filled with hope and faith in things working out, causes tears to well in my eyes.
“There isn’t.” I look up at her as one slides down my cheek. “I’m sorry, Molly. I—I’ve tried s-so hard this past year to b-bring us out of debt, b-but…”
She frowns at me as I trail off, sobbing. “It’s not your fault. At least you tried, right? And—”
The ding of the door interrupts our conversation and I glance at the clock, only to widen my eyes at the time.
“Oh god.” I swipe at my eyes, knowing I look like shit because I’ve been crying on and off since five this morning. “It’s h-him. I c-can’t let him see me like this.”
“You know he’ll ask for you anyway.”
I groan and cover my face. “Yes, I know. Tell him that I’m sorry, but I am busy with other things.”
“Like that’ll work,” she mutters, ”but I’ll give it a shot.”
She leaves the office and I stare at the letter from my bank.
Truth is, I’m about to lose my diner.
I inherited it a year ago, not long after I graduated college, when my father died unexpectedly.
Discovering how much trouble he’d been having devastated me, adding anger to my grief. The bills were piling up, the diner wasn’t making money, and my father had been quite late on several loan payments over the previous year.
In an attempt to keep the diner in the family, I’ve been working my ass off. I scaled down portions, made the menu smaller and kept the staff hired to a minimum.
But reality is, I still haven’t gotten ahead. Any profit made went straight to fixing things around the diner, especially those that have to meet standards and stay up-to-code. Then, the previous month, business dropped to a point I had to scrape everything I could find together and ended up making a late payment on the loan.
Even though that was the first late payment in over a year, the bank has obviously had enough.
They are calling the loan in.
They want their money and I don’t have it.
My lawyer, whom I also owe money to, said my only option is to find a private lender who’d be willing to take it on.
So far, we haven’t managed to find one inclined to take on a business in such dire straits.
When the door opens, I lift my eyes from the paper, expecting to see Molly.
Instead, Tobias stands in the door, face filled with worry.
The unexpected and unwelcome surge of arousal at the very sight of him makes me angry.
“What are you doing back here?” I snap at him, slamming the paper down on my desk and reaching for a tissue. “This is an employee-only area.”
He doesn’t say anything as he walks closer and sits down in the seat across from me.
I use the tissue to try and clean up, tossing it in the trash as I stand up.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I point at the door. “Get out!”
He sits back and crosses his arms, ignoring my command completely. “Why are you crying?”
Realizing he’s not going to leave as I ask, I sit down and mimic his pose. Lifting a brow, I ignore his question and ask, “How did you get back here?”
“I walked.”
I glare at him.
“Okay, okay!” He puts his hands up in the air in a mock surrender. “I ordered food after that waitress — what’s her name? Oh right, Molly! Anyway, I did order breakfast after Molly told me you were truly busy with other things. But when she went into the kitchen, I heard her say to the cook that you were upset—“
“So you were spying.”
“No—“
“Please,” I say, wiping my nose with another tissue as I stare angrily at him. “You would’ve had to stand up and get close to the counter to hear such a thing; that is, if you sat at your normal table. You were being nosy.”
He grins and leans in, eyes softening. “Okay, I’m busted. But she looked upset as well and I was curious, so when she wasn’t looking I came back here to find you. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
I hesitate.
I don’t even want him here. I can’t chance him finding out I’m Luna, the woman he’d screwed not even forty-eight hours ago; the one who’d walked out right after in a big fucking hurry.
Problem is, I don’t know anyone else. I’m running out of options and even though I doubt he can help me, I pick up the paper and hold it out to him.
“I’m not sure why you even care—“
He cuts me off with an angry glare of his own as he takes the letter from my hand. “I come in here three times a week and demand that only you serve me. Think about that while I read this.”
I open my mouth only to shut it without retorting as he scans the paper. His eyes widen as they fly up to meet mine once more.
“This is pretty fucking bad, Ms. Bates.” He puts the letter down and stabs it with his finger. “How the fuck did it get to this point?”
Even though I swear myself, his emphasis on the word fuck makes me wince.
I know I’m screwed. I don’t need him to tell me this, but his accusatory tone without knowing all the facts pisses me right off.
“Fuck you.” I point a finger at him and then at the door. “You don’t know
anything
about what I’ve been dealing with, so you can go on and get the fuck out.”
He doesn’t move.
The door flies open.
“Jocelyn, that man—“ Molly stops short, her eyes going wide at the sight of Tobias. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t—“
He stands up and holds out his hand, grinning. “‘That man’s’ name is Tobias.”
Her face flushes and suddenly, I’m irritated at both of them. “Molly, you’re fine. Mr. Giles-Blackburn here was just leaving, weren’t you?”
“I believe we still have some business to attend to.” He sits back down, then tosses Molly another smile. “Would you bring me something to drink please?”
When she opens her mouth to object, I cut in. “Please go take care of things up front, Molly. He doesn’t need a drink; he won’t be here long enough to need one.”
She looks from him to me and back again, then tosses him an apologetic glance before exiting the room. As she closes the door behind her, he chuckles.
“I don’t know what’s so amusing.”
“Oh, nothing,” he replies. “I was asking myself how you knew my last name. Then I realized that you would’ve seen it on my credit card when I pay.”
When I remain quiet, he taps the letter from the bank and says, “I may be able to help.”
Utter disbelief causes me to roll my eyes. “Unless you know a private lender willing to lend money to a person who is barely scraping by, I highly doubt you can.”
“I do.” He pulls out a card and a pen from his pocket, writing on the back of it before holding it out to me. “Come to this address tonight at eight and bring any documents pertaining to this diner, including the menu and your inventory.”
I take the card as he rises and asks me, “Any questions?”
“This—this looks like a private address.”
“It is. It’s mine.” I gape at him and he winks. “Don’t be late.”
With that, he turns on his heel and departs, shutting the door softly behind him.
Leaving me with the feeling that the very person who might be able to save my diner may end up being the one person whose help I had to turn down, no matter the consequences.
I ring Tobias’ doorbell, more nervous by the second as I wait for him to answer.
I’m five minutes late thanks to having never visited this neighborhood before and it’s already dark outside.
The longer I stand here in front of a gorgeous house that means I can only guess at his wealth, the more I consider bolting.
Iris and Dexter know I’m at his place; I’d given them his address just in case. Both were adamant that I should let Tobias assist me if he could. They have no idea why I want to say no, even though they are both aware that he’s the same man I slept with on Monday.
When I informed them I would no longer be going out as Luna, Dexter’s relief was so palatable he picked me up and twirled me around. Iris waited until later to question me, seeming skeptical when I told her that it no longer made me happy so I was done with it.
The door opening jars me from my thoughts.
Only to discover Tobias standing in front of me wearing jeans and nothing else.
I should’ve bolted, but it’s too late now.
“Jocelyn,” he greets me, stepping aside to indicate I should enter, giving me an unrepentant grin. “I assume I may call you Jocelyn at this point, yes?”
I nod, stepping over the threshold and pausing as he shuts the door.
“This way.”
He walks away and I follow his lead.
Staring at his ass the whole way, I relive every moment of the other night; from his mouth and lips on my pussy, to his cock pounding into me with a stamina I knew many men could only hope they possessed, to the exquisite way his hand felt around my throat.
I can’t help it. It’s been nearly two days and I hate going without sex.
As we enter a room, I glance around, quickly establishing that it’s an office.
“Please,” he says calmly, “take a seat.”
Sinking into the soft, cloth-covered chair in front of the desk, I cross my legs and clear my throat nervously.
He takes the seat behind the desk, then places his hand out, palm up.
Gathering that he wants the papers, I hand them over.
“Thank you. Give me just a few moments to look over these.”
I nod, but he’s no longer looking at me. Figuring that he knows I find him attractive, I openly gawk while he shuffles through the documents.
He’s freshly showered, his glistening hair still damp. His mouth is pursed a bit as he concentrates. When he licks a finger, then uses it to flip to a new page like in a book, I am strangely turned on.
I close my eyes, wishing I could touch myself in this moment as I imagine him glancing up, discovering my eyes on him. He smiles and stands up, coming around to stand behind me. He slides his hands down and into my shirt, cupping my breasts in his hands and squeezing my nipples, making me moan. Kissing up and down my neck, he fondles me inside my top as I lift my arms up and shove my hands through his hair. I pull on it a bit and he hisses, paying me back with a soft bite on my neck that heightens my arousal tenfold.
With a chuckle, he uses one hand to go even further south, unbuttoning my jeans and sliding down the zipper before slipping inside. Soon, he’s fingering me, his thumb manipulating my clit and I’m so wet, so turned on that it only takes a few minutes before I’m shaking with the force of my orgasm.