I choke on my champagne.
“What?” I gasp, not believing what he just said. “No. You’re insane.”
Vaughn just watches me with that sexy, blue-eyed stare. “The tablecloth will hide everything.” He smirks a teasing grin. “Nobody’s going to know.”
I can’t believe he’s even suggesting it. He’s tempted me into doing some filthy things before, but that’s always been just the two of us. Even when he went down on me in the library at the office, we were hidden from view. Out of sight and all alone.
But here...?
I look around. We’re on the edge of the packed courtyard, with the nearest tables surrounding us just a few feet away. There’s a steady buzz of activity: new diners being seated, wait staff bringing food and drink. This is a place to see and be seen, and half the people here aren’t even paying attention to their own dining companions, they’re all too busy scanning the room for some kind of gossip or stars.
I feel myself blushing hot. I don’t want to back down from the challenge, but this is wild, even for him.
Vaughn leans forwards. “Think about it,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low. “Your fingers sliding against your clit, stroking over and over until you can’t stop. Plunging deep into that juicy cunt.”
My pulse kicks, and I feel a rush of damp between my thighs. The white linen tablecloth drapes to the ground, covering my lap. My right side is fully exposed to the courtyard, but on my left is an ivy-covered wall, strung with tiny lights. If I was careful and discreet...
Vaughn gives me a smoldering grin. “You want to. You’re already wet for me, I can see it written all over your pretty face. So do it, baby, go right ahead. Come your brains out in front of everyone.” He winks. “I promise I won’t tell.”
I flush, but I don’t back down. He keeps thinking he can shock me, that I’ll meekly follow whatever he says. Well maybe this time I’ll be the one to shock him.
“Are you sure you can keep your hands to yourself?” I ask, teasing.
“Only if you do the work for me,” he replies.
I bite my lip, feeling a rush of anticipation. Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening – and that I feel so sexy.
I slide my hand under the tablecloth, moving my napkin in my lap so it’s hidden from view under the table.
I raise my eyebrow at Vaughn. Your move.
“Pull your dress up,” he commands softly.
He’s taking control. I called his bluff, but he is calling mine.
I like it.
I tug my skirt higher, until my fingers touch my bare thigh.
Oh God, I’m really doing this.
“How does your skin feel?” Vaughn whispers, his voice a whiskey drawl. “Stroke it, soft the way you like.”
I dance my fingertips lightly over my skin. The sensation shivers through me, so wrong to be doing this in front of everyone. I’m certain my desire is written all over my face, that anyone looking over could know in an instant what I’m doing down there.
But still, I can’t stop.
“Now go higher,” Vaughn orders me softly. “Stroke yourself through your panties.”
Lust overwhelms my body. My breath quickens with anticipation. I slowly creep my hand higher, until it’s nestled between my thighs. Vaughn is watching, enrapt.
Reaching in, I stroke my index finger around my clit, swollen and aching behind the scratchy lace of my underwear.
Oh God.
It feels so good. I stroke again, and this time, I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning.
Vaughn licks his lips, a glazed look in his eyes. “Are you wet?” He asks softly.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I’m so freaking turned on right now. I’m soaked through my panties, my nipples straining at my dress.
And five feet away, a couple is eating their dinner, completely oblivious to the wicked things I’m doing, right under their noses.
“Yes, Keely.” Vaughn’s voice is rougher now, hoarse. “Keep stroking. Harder.”
I do as he says, applying more pressure to the tight knot of nerves. Pleasure races through my bloodstream, heat suffusing my whole body.
“Now slide your hand under your panties,” Vaughn orders me. “Feel how wet you are.”
I’m so conflicted to be doing this right now -- feeling so damn good, even though it’s bad. But I can’t stop. I push my underwear aside and slide my fingers underneath them, cool against my hot, slick flesh.
I’m wet. I’m aching.
“That’s right,” Vaughn murmurs. “You want me so bad, don’t you? You want my hands right there touching you. My fingers fucking your dripping cunt.”
I shudder against my hand. I do, I want him so much. My rubbing isn’t enough, I need more. Possessed by lust, I angle my hand down, pressing my palm against my clit as I slide a finger inside my pussy.
God, yes. Right there.
“How are we doing this evening?”
A voice shatters my daze. It’s the waiter, bringing our food.
Shit.
I freeze, guilty. I have my left hand trapped between my thighs, one finger curled up inside me.
Shit, shit, shit.
“We’re doing great.” Vaughn smiles broadly. “Thanks. This looks great. Don’t you think, Keely?”
I murmur a weak response, flushing hot. I’m certain he can see what I’m doing. It must be written all over my face, but the waiter seems oblivious. He deposits our plates and then hovers by the table.
“Can I bring you anything else?”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” Vaughn pretends to think. His eyes glitter with wicked mischief. “Keely, do you need a hand with that?”
He’s enjoying this. The bastard.
“No, thank you.” I manage to reply. “I’m good.”
“We’ll let you know.” Vaughn dismisses the waiter. When he’s gone, I start to withdraw my hand, but Vaughn stops me with a commanding look.
“Don’t even think about it.”
I pause.
“You’re not stopping until you come,” he continues, and it’s clear, this time it’s an order. “Not until that pussy is clenching around your fingers, hot and dripping, and you have you bite your tongue to keep from screaming.”
I’m stifling a scream already. This is so mind-blowingly hot.
He picks up his knife and fork, and slices into his steak. “Well?” He raises an eyebrow, teasing me. “What are you waiting for? You better make it fast, your food is getting cold.”