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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

SASHA

The restaurant Layla chose is small and cozy, tucked away in a side street with a shabby-chic charm. Every mismatched chair is occupied, and the space buzzes with conversation. Spotting Layla at a table toward the back with a blonde, I make my way through the crowded space and take the empty seat beside her. Worried that I may miss Liam’s call with how loud it is in here, I rudely place my phone face up on the table and mutter, “Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries. We’ve only just got the table.” She shakes her head and pulls me in for a hug. After introducing me to Catlin, Finn’s wife, and informing me that Quinn, Declan’s wife, couldn’t make it, I get the details of the Evans family tree. Not that I will remember all these names without faces. Conversation flows between the three of us—like picking up with old friends—as we share an array of appetizers and wine.

Layla orders a second bottle of rosé for the three of us to share as Liam’s name lights up on the screen of my phone. I snatch it from beside my plate and quickly answer, “Hello?”

Liam’s gravelly voice carries through the phone. “I want to hear that desperate little whimper of you on the edge again.”

“I’m still at lunch with your sisters-in-law,” I inform him, trying to keep my tone conversational so as not to alert my new friends.

“Trust me, they’ll all understand,” he retorts, with a slight playfulness. “If you don’t want the restaurant to watch, you have exactly two minutes to excuse yourself and find a restroom.”

He can’t be fucking serious.

“Which is it going to be, sweetheart? I’m waiting. And the clock is ticking.”

Fuck…

“Um… I….” I stammer and gesture at the phone in my hand. “I’ll be right back. I need to take this.” Grabbing my purse, I make a beeline to the restrooms in the back corner of the restaurant. Once I’ve slipped inside, I lock the door and quickly check the two stalls to ensure I’m alone.

“Fifteen seconds,” Liam warns as I scramble to pull the wand from my purse and lift my skirt. “And I want to watch this time. Prop the phone on the counter.”

Doing as he asks, I click the button to accept the transition of our phone call to FaceTime. When I step back, I pause to check if I’m on the screen before turning on the wand and placing it between my thighs.

“You’re such a good fucking girl. And such a dirty little slut, playing with your pussy in public for me,” he praises. A shuttered moan rattles from me, and I’m unsure if it’s from the heavy throbbing between my thighs or the way Liam speaks to me. “Is it being called a good girl or a dirty slut that elicits your whimper?”

“Yes,” I pant, quickly losing control of my breathing. “I mean… both.”

“My good little slut”— oh, fuck…my pussy definitely likes that— “looks fucking gorgeous with her skirt hiked around her waist and that perfect fucking pussy on display just for me.”

The wand violently flutters against my clit, and I slap my hand over my mouth—in a futile attempt—to stifle the sounds of my pleasure. My palm muffles my throaty cries, but they are far from silenced as I quickly bring myself to the edge.

“So fucking close already,” Liam whispers. “So fucking eager to come for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes… Sir.” My breathy reply carries the pain of a desperate plea, the ache of needing to come quickly growing unbearable.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Liam groans, shifting this weight and adjusting himself. “I want you to spend the afternoon knowing that my cock is fucking throbbing from the thought of having you come against my tongue and then again as I sink into that tight pussy of yours and use you like the good little toy you are.”

“Please…” My thighs shake, and I rub the wand against my clit, bringing me to the cusp of releasing the tension building at my core. I bite my palm, hoping the pain distracts me long enough to ward off the impending orgasm from the aggressive toy pressed against me.

“That’s enough,” Liam commands, seeing how close I am to coming. I don’t hesitate to listen and immediately switch off the wand. “I want you needy and dripping by the time I get home.”

Mission fucking accomplished.

The hand dryer could blow against my clit, and I’d probably come right now.

“Go enjoy the rest of your afternoon.” Liam smirks before ending the call. Walking toward the sinks, I drop my skirt down my thighs. I give both my hands and the wand a quick wash. Shoving it back into my purse, I take a quick glance at myself in the mirror.

Yup, totally looks like I just got fucked in here.

I take an extra couple of seconds to straighten my clothes before heading back to the table. When I take my seat, Layla leans toward me and loudly whispers, “Did you just get fucked in the bathroom?” A knowing giggle rattles from her, and a broad smile spreads across her face when my eyes blow wide. “No judgment. I’ve definitely been put in my place in quite a few restaurant bathrooms.”

“H-how did you?” I softly stammer. “I… I mean, I… I didn’t.”

“Your face has that just-got-railed-bent-over-a-bathroom-sink look to it,” she shares with a chuckle. “I didn’t see Liam, though. Did he sneak out the back?”

“He was on the phone,” I respond, suddenly feeling the flush on my cheeks grow a bit more heated. “It’s a game… or a test …today. He calls, and I have to?—”

“Say no more”—Layla interrupts me with a wink—“but that’s fucking hot.” My admission fazes neither Layla nor Catlin. The conversation carries on as though edging yourself in the bathroom is completely normal. Just another Tuesday. The lunch crowd dwindles, and we are one of the few remaining tables by the time we finish our second bottle of wine.

“Liam asked us to take you shopping,” Layla informs me as she takes care of the check.

I shake my head. “That’s unnecessary. I have a full closet of things he already got for me.”

“Technically, I got those for you.” Layla laughs. “I won’t force you to go or to buy more things, but that’s because I’m pretty sure it’ll be your backside that pays the price for not doing as he asked.”