Page 67 of Swept Away

Mason studies us with curiosity.

“You two are so damn obvious,” he says, amused.

I reclaim my seat next to Mason, while Carter sits next to me.

“I just can’t help myself,” Carter says.

“And you’re not even shy about it.”

“Any problems?” Carter asks, moving his eyes to the bar and running a hand through his hair, the tone of his voice shifting.

Mason pins his stare in the same spot.

“No.”

“Did anyone talk to you?”

“No,” Mason murmurs.

“Should I let you two talk while I make a trip to the ladies’ room?” I ask, and they say no at the same time, their focus shifting to me at the same time.

“No,” they say again.

“No? I can’t go to the bathroom?” I ask, smiling.

“One of us will escort you to the bathroom,” Mason says.

I move my eyes from him to Carter.

They both slide their hands under the table and touch my thighs possessively.

“Should I be worried about those men?”

“No,” Mason says.

“We don’t have to spend the night here,’ I insist, realizing the presence of those men is more important than they want to admit.

“We’re not leaving,” Carter says firmly.

He reaches my hand under the table and drags it to his groin. I palm his impressive hard-on while he gives me a playful smile.

“I can’t move now even if I wanted to.”

Mason's hand stays on my thigh for a little longer before sliding up and crumpling up my skirt between my legs.

“Man, her pussy is hot,” he says, an elbow folded on the table, his eyes scanning the area.

He grabs me under the table, and I shudder.

“I won’t have an orgasm at the table, if that’s what you have in mind.”

“You wanna bet?” they murmur, laughing.

“No fucking way,’ I say, chuckling as well. “I can’t.”

“You don’t have to,” Mason says.

Without changing his demeanor–-you couldn’t tell just by looking at him that he is touching me under the table––he moves his hand inside my panties and does exactly what Carter did to me in the car.