A Date for the Regatta (The Dating 9) - Page 5

“Do you boys know what you want?” she asks. She’s been using the same line on us for three years now.

Vance goes first. “I’m going to have the roasted duck. You know how I like it, babe.”

God, I want to punch him.

“I’ll have the salmon,” Yates tells her.

“And for you?”

I barely glance up before clearing my throat. “I’ll have the roasted chicken. Veggies on the side.”

“Ranch for your salad?” she asks, knowing exactly what I like.

“Yes, please.”

London stomps away and I watch every movement of her hips until she disappears into the side space where the computer system is. Even though I can’t see her, I can hear her. She’s angry. I’m still staring when she comes out. She meets my gaze, flips me off, and disappears down the hall where the bathrooms are.

“I’ll be right back.” I don’t bother telling the guys where I’m going. I’m sure if they were smart enough they’d figure it out. I rush toward the hall and right into the women’s bathroom where I find London looking into the mirror. Her face is red, blotchy. I’ve seen enough of Alyssa’s many crying fits to know London’s been crying. I turn slightly and lock the door.

“What are you doing? You can’t be in here,” she says as I approach her. Each step I take, she takes one back. We do this until she’s pressed against the wall and the space between us is minimal.

“Why are you crying?”

“What do you care?”

“I care,” I tell her. “I also care that you left my boat without saying goodbye. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“We fucked. What’s the big deal?” her words are laced with hatred, which I don’t get.

“Yeah we did,” I say with a slight chuckle, trying to lighten the tension between us. I take a step forward until the white shirt she is wearing touches my navy one. My hand moves up to her hair and my fingers play with the ends of her ponytail. “The restaurant isn’t very busy,” I point out. “Are we your only table?”

“It’s still early.”

“Uh huh.” My lips push against hers, slow and methodical. London hesitates for a moment and then opens her mouth to me. The fire between us is instant. Her back arches off the wall as her hands pull at my belt buckle. “Feisty.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles against my lips. I do as she says and choose to focus on getting her pants undone and hopefully around her ankles before someone realizes that she’s gone and the door is locked. “Stall.”

We haphazardly walk toward the bathroom stall and somehow get it to close without either of taking our mouths off each other’s. My tongue is deep in her mouth when her hand reaches into my shorts and grips my shaft hard.

“Fuck,” I groan. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”

“Me too.” Her hand tightens to the right pressure and starts moving up and down my hard on. My hand reaches for the top of the stall to steady myself.

“Do you want a blow job?” she asks as she licks her lips.

“No, I want to feel that tight pussy of yours wrapped around my dick. Turn around.” London does as I ask. She turns, bends over and looks at me from over her shoulder.

“Condom?”

I nod and pull it out of my back pocket. I’m super fucking thankful I thought to grab one when I got dressed. Not that I expected London to be eager to fuck in the bathroom, but I had hopes for the storage closet.

Once my shaft is covered, London reaches around and moves her thong to the side. I line myself up, looking from her wet pussy to her eyes, which is where I stay when I enter her. For a brief second, both of us close our eyes, but as soon as I start to pull out and ease my way back in, she’s watching me. As much as I’d love taking my time with her, to ravage her body, we only have minutes. This has to be a quickie.

My hands dig into her hips as I pull them to meet each of thrust. She lets out the most tantalizing moan every time our bodies touch. Last night, when I approached her in the parking lot, asking if she wanted to grab a drink, I had no idea we would end up back on my boat. Believe me, I wanted to, but I had no idea London was interested. I’m thanking myself right now for coming to town a day early.

“Are you close?” I ask her. Last night, I had more time and could make sure she got off before me, but right now, I’m about to blow my load because this is about the hottest thing I’ve ever done.

London doesn’t answer me, but reaches her hand down, which I can only assume is to touch herself. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say as I slam into her hard. My balls tighten and I groan like a grizzly bear waking up from hibernation. And while I’m still twitching from the orgasm I just experienced, London is still going to town on her clit. I can’t leave her unsatisfied.

Tags: Heidi McLaughlin The Dating Romance
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