Beg for It(8)

“Reese, my God,” she said. “How are you? What a wonderful surprise.”

A second later she was in his arms again, like she couldn’t stop herself from hugging him, and all he wanted to do was pull her closer and never let her go. Instead, Reese took her by the upper arms and pushed her carefully but firmly a step or two away from him. It was impossible to miss the way her mouth turned down, though she smoothed her expression immediately. They stared at each other in an endless silence.

“They told me I was meeting with a guy named Tony Randolph,” Corinne said finally.

“He’s my assistant,” Reese told her. “But I decided to show up, myself.”

Corinne took a seat at the table. She looked at the two glasses of wine, then him. She took her napkin from her plate and settled it on her lap.

“I hear you have an offer for us,” she said. “I suppose we should discuss it.”





Chapter Five


Before


“Sit down.”

The woman in the dark blue uniform is no-nonsense, a little frazzled. More than a little annoyed, Reese thinks, by their boisterous group. His friends chuckle and shuffle, edging into the diner booth, but at her command, Reese immediately complies. His ass finds the chair settled at the edge of the table. His heart pounds.

His dick leaps.

She doesn’t even pay attention to him as she puts a handful of napkin-wrapped utensils in the center of the table, along with an equal number of menus. He’s glad for that, because that means he can look at her surreptitiously without having to pretend he’s not fascinated by her. This woman, the waitress, her name is Corinne, and she’s almost always here in the late night hours when he and his friends leave the club and end up craving breakfast. She knows them all, by sight at least, which is why it’s okay with everyone that she bosses them around like this.

It’s especially okay with Reese, who would never admit aloud to any of the other guys that when he jacks off, it’s to the sound of this woman’s voice commanding him to stroke harder. Faster. Telling him to beg her to let him come.

“Coffee?” She nudges his shoulder with the edge of her order tablet. Brows raised. “You okay?”

Reese coughs. “Yeah, yes. Coffee. Sure, thanks.”

Corinne’s eyes narrow for a second as she studies him. “You’ll never get to sleep if you drink coffee now.”

He won’t sleep anyway—it’s already past three and he needs to be up at five thirty to help his dad with the cows. “That’s okay.”

“No.” She taps her pen against her lower lip for a second. Her gaze is intense. Burning. “I don’t think so. You get tomato juice.”

“But I don’t—”

“Juice.” She bends to whisper in his ear, but quickly and subtly.

His friends are all so busy making noise that nobody hears her but him. Again, his dick leaps in his jeans. Reese shifts at the pressure, and Corinne looks into his lap with a knowing, secret smile that only sets him on fire even more.

He doesn’t like tomato juice, but he drinks it anyway. The reward is another of those smiles she gives him when she comes to take away the dirty plates. And then, even better…

“Good boy,” Corinne mouths at him as everyone else gets up, tossing crumpled and sweaty dollar bills onto the table as her tip.

He lets everyone leave without him. Uses the bathroom, where he washes his hands and splashes cold water on his face, running wet fingers through his hair until it stands on end. His face in the mirror is pale, considering how hot his cheeks and throat still feel. His eyes are wide and have gone dark. The eyeliner is smudgy. He wipes some of it away, but not all of it. His father hates that he wears makeup to go out, but Reese thinks Corinne likes it.

She’s waiting for him in the parking lot when he comes out, hitching his collar up around his neck.

“You need a ride,” she says. Not a question.

Reese nods. “Yeah, my friends, they ditched me.”

“They didn’t ditch you. You told them to go on ahead. You wanted me to offer you a ride home again.”

It’s his turn to smile. “You caught me.”

Corinne laughs. Shakes her head. “Get in, then.”

They don’t talk much on the ride. She plays the radio, low. The glow from the dash highlights the shadows under her eyes. Every so often she glances at him, and he can feel the weight of her gaze. She’s assessing him.

Reese’s cock is so hard it actually hurts.

Corinne doesn’t take him to her apartment, which is a disappointment. She pulls into the first few feet of the long farm lane. In the distance, he can see a light on in the farmhouse kitchen. His father. Reese’s eyes are gritty with lack of sleep, he’s coming down off the high of clubbing and he wishes desperately he’d had the coffee he’d ordered.

She puts the car in Park.

“You should get inside, I guess.” For a moment, Corinne peers out through the windshield, down the dark lane to the house and barn beyond. She twists a little to look at him. The fringes of her hair flutter now over her eyes. “Time to milk the cows.”

She doesn’t sound like she’s mocking him. More like she gets it. Most people around here do. Here in the heart of Amish country, Lancaster is a city surrounded by rolling hills and lots of farms. Milton Hershey got his start here because of all the dairy farms he needed to make his chocolate, before he’d gone on to build his own town.