French Quarter by Lacey Alexander (small books to read .TXT) 📕

beneath the table, which he’d moved back in front of them after Liz’s lap dance, and found her knee. He didn’t linger there, letting his hand slide smoothly up her inner thigh, past the lacy top of a stocking, stopping only when she clamped her legs together.

Her look was scolding but playful. “What do you think you’re doing?”

This made it clear—she was trying to drive him out of his mind. “Makin’ you feel good, chere. If you’ll just spread your legs a little bit.” He concluded with his best wolfish grin.

Her scolding expression didn’t fade, but under the table, her legs opened slightly and he slid his hand to the crotch of her panties. The tips of his fingers were instantly damp. He breathed low in her ear. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

She kept watching the girls on the stage get their breasts and asses soaped, and simply smiled, enjoying the titillations.

“So fuckin’ juicy,” he whispered, beginning to stroke her through the wet silk. In response, her legs parted a little more. He took the opportunity to pull the fabric aside and touch her without any barrier. His fingers drifted over light pubic hair before he slid his two middle fingers into her warm slit.

To his pleasure, she let out a small moan at the touch. No one looked and he was glad—he didn’t want to break the moment.

“Wider, so I can rub you,” he instructed.

She kept watching the soapy female bodies on the stage and did as he said, spreading for him.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

Then he stroked into wet, soft flesh and felt even more moisture surge over his fingers. His cock strained so hard against his zipper it hurt. He felt the hard nub of her clit against his finger and worked it in a circular motion. She gasped lightly and he whispered, “Is this the right spot, baby?”

“Unh,” she said, still watching the stage.

As he moved his fingers over her in hot little circles, she began to move with him, lifting her hips, thrusting her sweet little pussy forward at his hand.

“I’m gonna make you come so good, chere,” he murmured near her ear. “Gonna make you come so hard.”

She finally stopped watching the show and leaned her head back in passion. The musky, salty scent of her arousal rose to greet Jack as her wetness encased his fingertips entirely. He moved his fingers in smaller, tighter circles over her clit, responding each time she sped up her thrusts or slowed them down. There was more speeding up than slowing down, though, and it didn’t take long before her fists curled tight into the plush fabric at each side of her, and though she managed to stay quiet, her cunt clenched tight around his fingers, her breath came hard in his ear, and her thrusts turned nearly jack hammer fast.

“That’s right, baby, that’s right,” he murmured as he watched the ecstasy wash over her face.

Liz felt like rockets were being set off at the juncture of her thighs. The pulses rose like flames inside her, each one higher, hotter, than the last. God, yes, yes, yes. Mmm. So good.

When she opened her eyes after the waves of heat and pleasure had subsided, it was like waking up from a dream. Only this wasn’t a dream—it had all really happened. She couldn’t quite believe how wild she’d gotten, the way she’d followed Lynda’s advice so very well.

Next to her, Jack was wearing a sexy smile. Though strippers still shimmied and swayed on all the stages around them, it was suddenly as if Jack and Liz were the only two people in the room. “How was that?” he asked.

The truth was, it defied words. “Very…very…good,” she finally said.

Wearing a heated grin, he leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I wanna fuck you,” he said softly.

She wanted that, too. So, so much. The orgasm hadn’t made her any less eager to have more of him, now. “Where should we go?”

He thought for a moment. “I live at the other end of Bourbon.”

That sounded like a long walk, even too long to wait if they took a cab. “Too far.”

“My office is a couple of blocks away.”

“Okay,” she said.

Despite the fun she’d had at the club, she was happy to step outside into the cool night air, on Jack’s arm. The street bustled with crowds, people drinking, smoking, laughing. Music blared from open doors of dance bars. Jack took her hand and led her through the people; they walked quickly, and she wondered if he was feeling as frantic as she was, like each second was an eternity, like her pussy was empty and begging for him more with each step. Her pussy—she could scarcely believe she’d thought of it that way; it was so unlike her. But the wild events of the night had loosed something new and brazen inside her soul.

She glanced up, drawing his gaze down, and thought she saw the same sense of urgency in his dark, piercing eyes. “Merde,” she heard him bite off with clenched teeth, and then he was drawing her into an alley, deep, deeper, between timeworn, windowless brick walls, past empty wooden crates, until he finally stopped and put his arms around her, pulling her close against his warm body. “I need to kiss you,” he breathed.

That’s when it hit her, hard—they hadn’t even kissed yet. “Please,” she said in response and his mouth sank onto hers, molding as perfectly as if they’d been lovers for years. His tongue slipped between her lips and she met it with her own. The kiss was fierce and long, brimming with need, but soon softening into something deep and sensual and swallowing. His body pressed hard against hers—one particular part harder than the rest.

It made her want to touch and explore him and she let her hands roam across his broad back, his chest, his sexy butt. His hands traveled her body, too, caressing her bottom, her back, sliding from her waist up to the sides