The VIP Room (37 page)

Derek grabbed her breasts and squeezed as she rode him, rocking the bed as they pounded the mattress again and again. Lauren fell forward, propping herself up on her elbows while she continued to plunge down on his hardness.

Derek cried out with lust and his hands left her breasts to squeeze her buttocks. She felt his fingers sliding into her crack and dipping into the wetness dripping down her legs. He gently circled over her rear opening, teasing her by pressing down lightly with one finger.

Lauren felt a need within her that she had never experienced before. She wanted him to enter her there, but with more than his finger. She continued her humping until she felt her first orgasm explode with rhythmic contractions around him.

She lifted off him and pulled open her nightstand drawer, reaching around until she found a tube of lubricant. She squirted some onto her fingers and ran her hand from one end of her bottom to the other. She turned her body toward the foot of the bed and positioned herself on all fours.

Derek didn't need prompting. He grabbed the black cock vibrator from her drawer and flicked the switch on. In an instant he mounted her from behind, placing the vibrator on her clit and dragging it down to her front opening, dipping in and out before plunging it into her depths. He slid his hardness through the lubricating gel that shone on her exposed pink skin and pressed against her rear opening, gently pushing in deeper and deeper.

Lauren took two handfuls of sheet in her fists and squeezed as spikes of pleasurable pain emanated through her lower regions. She felt Derek penetrate deeper, advancing slowly. Another flip of a switch and the black cock began to rotate within in her. Lauren felt her bottom flood with her juices, and her muscles opened wide to receive Derek's full length behind her while the black cock filled her from the front. The pressure of the two inside her, moving round and round on one side and up and down on the other, was exhilarating.

She thought she might lose consciousness with the pleasure as she felt herself expanding and her body being filled to perfection. She was full, and it the most incredible sensation of her life. She felt Derek on the brink and knew she was ready to let go, too.

"Come now," Derek grunted as he pushed one final time.

Lauren's nerve endings exploded, and she felt a torrent of relief pass through her body. Derek pulled out from her slowly and withdrew the vibrator as well. He fell to the side and pulled her to him, their faces touching, their chests heaving, and their bodies pressed together.

"Best wake up call ever," he said and kissed the tip of her nose.

Somehow they managed to right themselves on the bed, heads on the pillow, but still in each other's arm and fell back to sleep.

L
auren woke for a second time
, this time to the sound of water running. She felt next to her, but the bed was empty. She wandered into the bathroom to find Derek in the shower.

"Come in and join me," he said.

"No, no. If I do, we'll never eat or get out of this room today. I'm going downstairs to make us some breakfast."

"No, you're not. I owe you a date, Ms. Daniels, and I'm taking you for brunch."

She pretended to think about it. "Oh, all right. But I'll get in the shower once you're done. Otherwise we'll get into all sorts of trouble again, and I'm too hungry for that."

Derek laughed and stepped out, grabbing a towel. "Well then, hurry up and get ready, because I'm taking you for the meal of your life."

Lauren feigned hurt and put her hands on her hips. "I thought you said my cooking was the best you ever tasted."

"It is, but I'd rather have you relax and be served today. Take a day off, you know."

Lauren smiled and nodded. "That sounds pretty good actually. OK, get out of here and let me do my thing."

She pushed him out of the bathroom and closed the door. When she emerged about thirty minutes later, the bedroom was empty. The bed was made, and his tux and her dress from the night before were folded neatly and placed on the floor near the bedroom door. Lauren dressed quickly and followed the smell of fresh brewed coffee to the kitchen, where she found Derek sitting at her counter in shorts and a tee shirt, drinking coffee and reading her Sunday paper.

"Where'd you get the change of clothes? You arrived in a tux."

"Haven't you figured out yet that all my vehicles have extra shirts and pants?"

She looked around and saw her dishes from the night before in the dish rack, washed, along with the wine glass. She made an approving noise. "Now a girl can get used to this. You better be careful," she said.

Derek jumped up and poured a mug of coffee for her. "You ain't seen nothing yet. So, drink up and then we'll get going. And, by the way, I'll send someone over to clean up your backyard tomorrow, so don't even give it a single thought."

Lauren gasped and raised her hand to her mouth, remembering how she tore apart the flowerbed the night before.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

He handed her the paper. "What's your favorite section?"

"Sports," she said, and burst out laughing at his surprised expression.

"Just kidding. The financial section is the only part I read, but I'm not in the mood for that now."

Derek's eyes widened. "What are you in the mood for? And don't say what I think you're thinking, because I want to take you somewhere before we go back to bed."

Lauren sipped some coffee and set down the mug. "Then let's get going. I told you I'm starving."

"
D
o
you have something to tie back your hair?" Derek asked as they got into the Corvette.

Lauren reached into her purse and pulled out a hair clip. "Yes. Why?"

"Because I'm putting the top down."

While the mechanism was working, Derek made a quick call, ordered breakfast, and said they'd be there in thirty minutes.

"Where are we going?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I never heard anyone put in an order when they made reservations before."

Derek laughed. "You'll see."

Lauren became curious when Derek drove across town and into an exclusive residential area. "I didn't know they had any commerce here," she said. "What's the restaurant's name again?"

"Nice try, but I'm not telling you where we're going."

He pulled up to a large Tudor mansion.

"Wow, I didn't know this B&B was here," she said when he came around to open her door.

They walked up the paved driveway and Derek put a key in the lock, looking sideways at her with a smile.

Lauren looked confused. "But you showed me your house last weekend, and this certainly is not it." Her eyes narrowed. "Please don't tell me there are any more lies or secrets."

"I told you the truth. You asked if it was my house, and it is. The house I showed you is a rental property I own. One of many. This place is my residence," Derek said, and pushed open the door.

He lifted her up in his arms and carried her over the threshold. A uniformed butler was standing in the foyer. "Your breakfast is ready to be served, Mr. Holmes."

Derek nodded and set Lauren down next to him. "Charles, I'd like you to meet the future Mrs. Holmes."

Lauren could barely sputter out a greeting. Her mouth opened almost as wide as her eyes as Derek took her hand and led her down the hall to a sumptuous spread in the dining room.

"Welcome to my home, Lauren."

He got down on one knee. "Please make me the happiest man in the world and say you'll move in and make it yours, too."

"Are you asking me to marry you or move in with you?"

"Both."

Lauren tugged at his arm lightly and Derek stood up. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I will marry you, and we'll talk later about the house."

Before he could respond, she filled his mouth with her tongue. Derek pulled his head back and smiled at her.

"I'll show you every house I own, and you can take your pick. If you don't like any of them, I'll move into your house or anywhere you want. All I care about is that I have you to come home to every day for the rest of my life."

"Good answer. Now let's eat, and then you can show me the bedroom suite. I think I may want to sample the bed before I decide."

Derek's eyes twinkled. "Sounds good. You know, of course, that there's a master bedroom in every one of my houses. Trying out each bed might take some time."

Lauren sat down in the chair he pulled out for her. "I can't think of a better decision-making process for selecting a home, can you?"

Derek shook his head. "I'm ready to start testing beds any time you are, Goldilocks. But as far as I'm concerned, any bed with you in it works for me."

While Derek looked away for a moment to signal to the staff to begin serving, Lauren pinched her arm to make sure she wasn't in a dream. Seeing a red welt appear--and the look of concern on Derek's face as he lightly ran his fingers over the area--erased any trace of doubt that lingered.

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E
mma rushed
through the back door of the diner, her bag getting caught between the door and the jamb as she tried to slide through. She paused, yanked it out, and nearly ran smack into Todd, one of the cooks.

“Running late again, huh?”

She just smiled, too breathless to do anything else.

She darted around Todd and ran into the store room, dropping her bag on one of the shelves, stowing her jacket beside it. Then she grabbed an apron and headed for the door.

“Thank God,” Leslie, another of the waitresses—and the only other one working the morning shift that morning—said when she spotted Emma.

“Sorry.”

She grabbed a pad and headed to a table where a couple was staring a little too aggressively in her direction.

Her eyes saw him come in ten minutes later, as she carried a plate weighed down with Todd’s fluffy pancakes to another table. He stood out because he clearly did not belong on that side of town. Tall and good looking, he was wearing a suit that probably cost more than Emma would make that year and next combined. His companion was also dressed in business clothing, but hers was clearly less expensive than his. She was pretty though, blond and svelte, like a model out of one of the fashion magazines Emma’s sister, Sophie, was always perusing.

“What can I get you?” she asked as she slid up to their table.

The man didn’t bother to look up from his smartphone, but the woman offered a soft smile.

“Do you have lattes?”

“I’m afraid not. Just plain coffee.”

The woman nodded as though she understood. “Two, please.”

Emma paused at several tables, taking an order here, checking on the need for refills at another, before she made her way behind the counter to grab a couple of coffee mugs. By the time she made it back to their table, the man in the fancy suit was staring at her.

“Did you have to make it from scratch?”

“No, sir.” She carefully set the coffee on the table, sliding a cup in front of each. “Can I get you anything else? Our pancakes are pretty—“

“If we wanted pancakes, we probably would have asked for them.”

Emma bit her lip as she glanced at Leslie.
Another asshole.

Leslie touched the underside of her chin with two fingers, the universal gesture for “keep your chin up”.

“There’s cream there on the table. If you need anything else. I’m Emma.”

The man glared at her. She had no idea why.

She was only a few steps away when she heard him curse under his breath. “This has got to be the worst cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted!”

Emma spun on her heel even though a man at another table—Bob, one of her regulars—was gesturing for her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Can I get you another?”

“Why would I want another if you couldn’t get the first one right?”

Again, Emma bit her lip. “Can I get you something else?”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.” He studied her face for a minute, his green eyes almost sinister in his handsome face. “Maybe a cup of tea would be safe. After all, all you have to do is boil some water.”

If Emma bit down on her lip any harder, it would probably split in half. But she only nodded, her anger softened slightly by the apologetic look on his companions face. Emma almost felt sorry for his female companion. It couldn’t be pleasant spending any length of time with a guy like him.

“We have chamomile, Earl Grey, and mint.”

“Do you have chai?”

Rude. And deaf.

“We have chamomile, Earl Grey, and mint.”

He picked up his smartphone again and began scrolling through screens, obviously feeling as though he had dismissed her like some sort of servant. Emma looked at his companion and she shrugged slightly.

Emma walked off, pausing to see what Bob wanted before going behind the counter to fill his order.

“You should spit in the water,” Leslie whispered as she rushed past her to pick up an order waiting in the window.

Emma smiled. She thought about it, but decided she wouldn’t lower herself to his level. She still had her dignity.

She filled a mug with boiling water and set it on a saucer with one packet of each of the teas they sold. She was making a list in her head as she walked: another couple had come in and settled in a booth in her section, they’d need menus; Bob was done and wanted to pay his bill; the other table needed refills on their coffee. She paused at business suit’s table, set the tea carefully in front of him and reached for the cup of coffee he’d rejected only to realize that it was nearly empty. He’d been drinking it anyway.

She turned to walk away when he grabbed her wrist.

“I asked for honey.”

“You didn’t. But I will get you some.”

“Excuse me? Are you calling me a liar?”

Lord, help me!
Emma pulled her arm from his grip. “I will get you some honey.”

“First, answer my question.”

Emma stared at him. She had never met anyone who was as argumentative and unpleasant in all her life. It was taking everything she had not to tell him what she thought of him.

“I apologize if it seemed that way,” she said instead. “I will get the honey.”

“Don’t bother. By the time you get back, it’ll be too cold to drink, anyway.”

“Okay.” Once again, Emma tried to walk away. Again, he found fault with her service.

“I asked for chai.”

“We don’t serve chai.”

“Then go to the corner store and get some.” He shook his head. “What kind of establishment doesn’t go the extra mile to make sure their customers are satisfied?”

A dozen retorts sprang to the tip of Emma’s tongue, but she bit them all back. “If you’re not satisfied, perhaps you should go to Starbucks. I understand they have a pretty good chai tea latte.”

He turned the full force of his glare on her at that. “That’s professional. Send customers to other establishments. I bet the owner of this place is so pleased with your performance.”

“She’s never complained.”

“That’s probably why this place will be out of business in less than a year.”

Emma shook her head, unable to hide her incredulity any longer. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

“Oh, that’s good. The uneducated, non-professional’s fallback position. Name calling.” He glanced at his companion who—much to her credit—looked horrified. “So typical.”

“It’s better to be an educated, professional asshole?”

He turned his attention back to Emma, his dark, olive skin flushed. “What did you say?”

“You’ve done nothing but complain and be rude since the moment you walked in here. And you have the nerve to call me uneducated? I’d rather be uneducated than be anything like you.”

She started to turn away, but he jumped out of the booth and grabbed her arm before she could get more than a few steps. “Do you know who I am? Do you know that I could buy and sell you a million times over?”

“I’d have to be for sale.”

“Everyone and everything is for sale.”

“Not me.”

“Not only could I buy and sell you, I could turn your whole world upside down. I could buy this diner and have you out on the streets by close of business today. I could buy your house and turn it into a shopping mall by the end of next week. Anything I want, I can do because, unlike you, I’m somebody.”

“I’d rather be a nobody than be alone and miserable. And you…I wouldn’t want your life if it was so lonely that you have to take your anger out on a nobody waitress.”

His eyes narrowed and his breathing suddenly changed, growing shallow and desperate. She’d clearly hit a nerve.

He jerked her arm, pulled her hard against his chest. “Fucking bitch!” he hissed so close to her face that his breath, his spittle, washed over her.

Emma’s vision went red. The anger in his voice, his movements, the threat that it all promised pushed her to an edge she knew and didn’t want anything to do with. She did the only thing open to her: she grabbed a half empty cup of coffee from the table behind him and tossed it in his face.

The familiar—comforting—sounds of the diner suddenly ceased. Someone gasped.

Business suit jerked back, releasing her arm in favor of raising his hand to strike her across the face. His companion finally got involved, jumping up to place her body between him and Emma.

“I think it’s time to go, Dante.”

He glared at her for a long second, the wheels clearly turning inside his head. But then his glare shifted back to Emma. “You will regret this,” he said, jabbing a finger in her direction before he finally turned, grabbed a couple of napkins, and stormed from the diner as he scrubbed at the coffee clinging to his face and in his hair.

Leslie came up behind Emma and laid her hands on her shoulders. Emma jumped, jerking away as a small scream slipped from her lips.

“Sorry.”

Emma turned around, reality coming back into focus. “No, I’m sorry.” She dragged her fingers over her face, wiping away the memory of his words. Everyone was staring at her. It brought a flush of shame to her cheeks as she realized not only was she the center of attention for reasons she would rather not think about, but she had done something she had sworn she would never do again.

She had to get out of there.