Page 11 of Wanted By the Mountain Man
“Take off that apron and I’ll show you.”
He stepped closer. The counter still separated us, though. There was another wrinkle in his plan—windows all around. It was unlikely anyone would see us, but we couldn’t take that risk, especially since the dinner was on the main road.
“Come to the back room,” I said, flipping around and marching in that direction, my stride determined, my entire body tingling.
As soon as I was through the door to the back room, I was scanning the area for the perfect surface. But nothing looked right. Rourke would have some ideas about that, I was sure, but options were limited.
The flip-door slapped open behind me, and Rourke stepped in. I felt him back there. I didn’t even have to look over my shoulder.
“I think you should clean the prep table,” he said.
He didn’t want me to clean the prep table. He wanted me to pretend to clean the prep table.
I didn’t even bother grabbing the spray bottle and towel to wipe it down. I just put both hands on the stainless-steel top and waited as he moved in behind me.
“Yeah, I think the apron adds to it,” he said.
I couldn’t agree more. It made it feel even naughtier.
We were here all alone, so there was no need to worry that we’d be interrupted. My mom was recovering from hip replacement surgery, so I was running things. It had been a slow night, so I’d let all the employees go home early.
But there was still an element of risk to what we were doing. And that had me ready to rip off his clothes and do him right here on this table.
“I’ve been thinking about doing this since I met you,” he growled into my ear.
It took me a second to realize this was playacting. He was a cook or a line prep. Or maybe the naughty manager of a fictional restaurant. I was the server cleaning up after work.
Warmth spread to my pussy at the thought. I loved when we role-played like this. I lived for it. Although usually, it was in our bedroom, not in a public place. We hadn’t done that since the kids were younger.
“Your break’s almost over,” he said. “But I think we could extend it a little longer.”
I shrugged. “If you’re up for it, I’m up for it.”
My palms remained flattened on the table’s surface as his hands wandered to the fastening of my shorts. That hand worked the button while his other hand tugged at the string holding my apron in place. He didn’t remove it, though. Instead, he slid his hand under both it and my T-shirt, moving upward toward my breast.
As he lowered the zipper on my shorts, he nudged my bra strap downward, then slid his hand under the left cup. I sighed and leaned into him again.
His thumb finally made contact with my nipple, and I gasped beneath his touch. At the same time, his hand dove under the elastic of my panties, going straight for my clit, and I spread my legs to encourage him.
“Oh,” I said, the sound escaping.
I remembered to play it quiet, pressing my lips together to stifle any other sounds. I felt his bulge pressing into my ass and rubbed against him, bringing a moan.
He cupped my breast, then took my nipple between his index and middle finger. At the same time, he began moving his other finger in slow, rhythmic circles over my clit.
I reached back and gripped his arm as he planted a kiss on my cheek, then my jaw. Then he took my earlobe between his teeth.
“You’re so wet,” he said after releasing my earlobe. “You want me, don’t you?”
“Mm-hmm. So badly. I want to feel your hard cock inside me.”
He groaned against my skin. He wouldn’t do anything until I came first, but that didn’t bother me at all. It wouldn’t take long.
I closed my eyes and savored the feel of him moving over me, his speed picking up as my hips began rocking. With every movement, I brushed along his length, getting him even more revved up. That would just mean he’d be extra hard for me.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered. “Oh, yes.”
I closed my eyes and let the sensations wash over me, warmth spreading through my body. He continued touching me, not letting up until I finally stopped moving.
