97. Maddox
NINETY-SEVEN
Hannah leads me through the restaurant, and I can't stop the nerves twisting in my stomach.
She didn't look mad about the wine, but I should've told her myself rather than letting her find out this way.
I don't have any reason for not telling her, other than the fact that I didn't want to come off completely obsessed. But now I feel guilty for keeping it a secret.
My hand grips hers tighter as we head down a long, dimly lit hallway that takes a sharp turn at the end.
We're behind the kitchen now and well out of the view of any diners.
I expect her to stop, but she doesn't.
Hannah walks us past one door marked restroom. Then another and another, until we're in front of the last door.
She reaches for the handle, and then she's pulling me through.
The individual restroom is larger than I expected. The walls are dark wood, and the toilet is in the far corner, next to a fancy pedestal sink with one large, but not bright, bulb above it.
It's classy. Nice.
Hannah keeps pulling me in, only dropping my hand to shut and lock the door behind us.
"I didn't—" I start, but Hannah whirls on me.
"Shut up."
"What? I —"
She steps into my space, and I move back until I bump into the wall. "Just shut up and let me."
I figure she means let me talk, but then her hands are on my belt buckle.
My arms lift but hang in the air.
Hannah undoes the buckle and moves to the button on my jeans, and my cock responds, thickening as it stirs to life.
"What's happening?" I ask as my heart starts to beat faster.
"Ten fucking years, Maddox." Hannah blinks up at me as she pulls my zipper down.
And I can't quite tell if she's mad or not.
But then she pulls my cock out of my pants.
Her hands grip it, holding the base with one set of fingers as the other strokes it.
"Fuck," I heave out.
"Ten years I could've been doing this." She sinks down before me into a low crouch, keeping her knees off the ground. "I've wanted to do this for so long."
And then she wraps her lips around the head of my dick.
And my vision blurs.