Beg for It(3)
So close, so f*cking close, and yet she couldn’t manage to tip over. With a frustrated groan, she turned to press her back against the wall. Now the water spattered her breasts, teasing her nipples almost painfully. It washed over her belly and between her legs, and she tipped her hips upward to let it pound her clit. There, there it was, the stream from the showerhead nothing compared to a sweetly flicking tongue, but all she had at the moment. Corinne used both hands to open herself, exposing her * to the water’s steady spray.
Her boy should be on his knees in front of her right now, she thought somewhat incoherently. His fingers gripping her hips. Digging deep. Holding her close to the expert, relentless stroking of his tongue against her.
Oh, yes. Oh, f*ck yes. This was it, the point of no return, when everything up until now had been merely a tease. She was going to come, yes, right here, like this, and…
Corinne shook with it, aware of the sting of water in her eyes but not caring. Nothing mattered but the pleasure. Not her own harsh grunting or the stinging needles of water turning chilly or the fact she was definitely very late for work now. All that mattered was the ecstasy sweeping her away from everything that made her sad.
Panting, her inner muscles clenching, Corinne twisted the faucet to turn off the water. She stumbled with weak legs onto the bathmat and grabbed for her towel. Pressing it between her thighs, she let out another hitching sigh at the aftershocks the soft terrycloth gave her. She wanted to come again and again, spending the day in a never-ending chain of climaxes, stopping only to nap in the sweaty entanglement of her lover’s limbs and to be fed cheese and grapes and to sip chilled wine.
The thought of this, finally, made her laugh. As though that scenario would ever happen, she thought as she bent to tuck her hair into the turban she made of her towel and went, otherwise naked, to the sink so she could finish getting ready. A day of nothing but pleasure? How long had it been since she’d been able to indulge in something like that?
A long, long damn time, Corinne thought as she stared at her reflection. The pink flush still spreading over her chest and up her throat gave her a small smile. At least she’d had a few minutes of gratification, anyway, and she should count herself lucky. A few of her friends had declared they no longer even cared about sex at all.
The day she no longer wanted to get off, Corinne thought, she hoped it was the one they put her in the ground.
Chapter Two
Before
Weekends at the diner are always crazy busy. It’s one of the few places that is open twenty-four hours, where you can get breakfast all day, and so it’s popular with the local college kids during the week and even more crowded on the weekends with people coming out after hitting Lancaster’s downtown bar scene. Corinne works the late night shifts so she can take her business classes during the day at Millersville University. She’s going to get an MBA if it kills her—and sometimes, it feels like it might.
She does envy those students who come rolling in around two a.m. with cash to spend on platters of pancakes they leave half-eaten and wasted. They leave her tips in stacks of pennies and nickels hidden beneath the lettuce they took off their cheeseburgers. Mostly, she envies them the ability to go to school and keep playing on their parents’ dime while she toils away at this job that breaks her back and kills her feet, just so she can get her degree.
There’s one group in particular that both amuses and annoys her. Three, four, five younger guys who seem to have known each other since elementary school, based on the nicknames they use for each other and how comfortable they are with casual, physical contact. Squeezing into a booth, hips and shoulders pressing, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, feet on each other’s laps. At first she’d assumed they were gay and crazily brave enough to flaunt in front of this rural city’s judgment, but they’ve been coming into Triton’s long enough now that she sees they’re not gay. More like brothers, a pack of them, forged by friendship and not blood.
Reese is the quiet one. He always orders the same breakfast. Two eggs over medium, wheat toast, hash browns, coffee, and every few weeks, he adds a single pancake. He uses cream and sugar in his coffee but only a little syrup on the pancake, and he always, always leaves her a nice tip of folded dollar bills tucked beneath the edge of the plate.
Reese has a crush on her. Corinne knows this because she catches him watching her as she takes care of the other tables. When he thinks she can’t notice him, he stares, but every so often she’ll look up into the diner’s mirrored interior and let her gaze move across the room, deliberately seeking out the sight of Reese’s long-distance worship. On the nights when he doesn’t come in, she finds herself still looking for his reflection.
Tonight, they’re short-staffed and overcrowded. People wait for tables even though it’s nearly two in the morning, and anyone with any sense would’ve gone home to bed by now, grouchy Corinne thinks as she weaves and bobs to get around Dino, the busboy, who’s trying to clear off a table so she can seat someone else. Corinne’s so busy she barely notices when Reese and his friends come in, at least until she finds herself at their table. They’re jostling and joking, causing a ruckus as usual. Except for Reese, in the far corner.
At the sight of him, every bad feeling she’s had this entire night, all the shitty tips and messed up orders and rude patrons…all of that melts away when she sees Reese’s smile. He’s a gust of clean, fresh air, and she breathes him in. For a moment it’s like they’re the only two in the diner, but only for a blink, because she shakes herself back into the real world. No time for goo-goo eyes. She sees him watching her in the mirrors as she walks away, and for the first time in all the months he’s been coming in here, Corinne lets her gaze meet his in the reflection.