“I still don't understand why you couldn't have told me at my place, or even at any other place in Ashbourne, for that matter,” I say as the waiter walks away from our table, having taken our order.

We’ve driven all the way to the next town, Dewhurst, and Jacob hasn’t answered any of my questions, insisting we were going to talk at the restaurant.

“I didn't say I couldn't. I said, ‘I have to tell you at Le Grande,’ which was true, because I’d made the reservation. I just felt like having a nice meal for once.” Jacob smiles when he notices my scowl. He does that. He seems to find my anger amusing, for some reason.

“So you told me to come out here for nothing?” I ask, partly in an attempt to distract myself from how good Jacob looks.

He’s wearing a black blazer over his blue crewneck shirt tonight. The guy cleans up well. And ironically, seeing how well he’s dressed just makes me want to undress him.

“Come on. It's not for nothing. You're enjoying this,” he says with certainty. “At least the dressing up part. If you didn't, you wouldn't have gone through all that trouble. Nice dress, by the way.” Jacob's appreciative gaze travels down my face and my neck, and rests on my cleavage.

I should be annoyed that he’s avoiding giving me an actual answer again. I should be regretting my dress of choice tonight, a skin-tight red little number with a low-cut neckline.

Instead, heat spreads across my cheeks and throughout my entire body, only to concentrate between my legs. Shit. It's the way he looks at me, like I’m already his possession, like he’s about to ravish me and make me like it.

I have to admit Jacob has a point. I do enjoy this, I suppose, but only because I don't often find an excuse to dress up. Most of the adults I know in Ashbourne are married with children, and have no time for nights out. My dresses were getting lonely in my closet.

“Okay. Fine. Whatever,” I say. “Just tell me what you learned.” I still have no idea how Jacob found out about Steve and Caine, and I hate not knowing. But at the same time, maybe that means he knows what to do in situations like this, where to look for clues.

“I’ll tell you if you take off your panties and give them to me,” Jacob says with a straight face, like he’s just asked me to pass the salt or something.

“Are you crazy?” I look around at the other well-dressed diners and the waiters in tuxedos. I lean forward and stare at Jacob across the table. Keeping my voice low, I ask, “Do you realize where we are?”

“Of course. I'm the one who made the reservation.”

“That's not what I mean! This is a public place. I can't just take off my…,” I drop my voice down to a whisper, “...panties.”

Jacob bursts into laughter. He regains his composure under my angry stare and says, “Then I guess you don't want the answers that much.”

“Damn you, Jacob. You said you were going to help me. You call this helpful?”

“I’m still helping you. You just don't get to know every detail of how I’m helping you.”

“What?” My jaw drops. “What kind of weird reasoning is that?” I can't believe he's going to play me like this.

“You know it makes sense, though. You're not going to be safer if you knew,” Jacob raises one eyebrow and smirks, knowing he's won.

He looks at the tabletop like his gaze can penetrate the wood and see underneath my clothes at my soaked pussy. One look at my panties and he’d know. He’d know how desperate I am for him, despite my cool exterior.

Even though Jacob spent the past three nights on my couch, we haven’t spoken much because he wouldn’t tell me how he’d found out about Steve and Caine.

“What if someone recognizes me? I'm a teacher. Have you thought about how bad I will look if someone from the school sees me?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you asked. I have thought about it, actually.” Jacob's smirk is beginning to really bug me. He can't blame me if I threw my drink in his face after what he's said and done tonight. He says, “That's why I took you here. For days, I used your back door because you said you didn't want any rumors. Here, nobody knows you as the high school teacher.”

I can't believe he's planned this. On one hand, I’m outraged that he has the nerve to tell me to go commando. And yet the way he consumes me with his gaze continues to cause tingles in my core. Could I be excited about this? Do I secretly want to do this?

When the food arrives, Jacob smiles at me and starts eating like we're just a normal couple out having a nice dinner, like he hasn’t just blackmailed me.

I can’t stand just watching him eat like nothing’s wrong. “Why aren't you saying anything?”

“I told you, I’ll tell you if you do what I said. I’m ready any time you are.”

I can't believe I'm actually going to do this. Even when I was on stage, I never had to take my panties off.

I scoot my ass toward the edge of my seat to hide more of my legs under the crisp white tablecloth. God, it feels so wrong to do something this filthy in such a swanky place. And judging by how absolutely drenched my panties are, I’m loving it.

I quickly slip my hand under my dress, hook my finger in the waist of my panties, and pull it down. I shift back in my chair so the friction helps to move my panties down my thighs. When they reach my knees, I nudge them with my hand until they gather around my ankles.

Jacob keeps his watchful eyes on me, his lips growing wider into a smile when he notices me wiggling in my chair.

I yank my panties off and, taking off one shoe, I let them dangle from my foot. I find Jacob's foot under the table, press my foot against it with the panties trapped in between, and move up Jacob's leg.

He feels warm through his jeans. I want to feel the front of his pants, see if this is turning him on as much as it is turning me on. But I don't want Jacob knowing how much I want him.

The entire time, he continues eating like nothing strange is going on under the table, only occasionally smiling at me with satisfaction. That look makes me weak in the knees. Why does his approval have this effect on my body?

Jacob grabs my foot, making me gasp in surprise. Looking right into my eyes, he takes my panties and puts my foot back down on the floor.

“So what's the information?” I ask impatiently. Maybe if I focus on something else the ache between my legs will go away on its own.

“Okay. Steven Gordon is an accountant who has lived in Ashbourne his whole life. He has visited San Francisco a few times. One of those times was for some guy's bachelor party. They went to the Pussy Cat. The guy seems harmless,” Jacob says.

“And?” I prompt Jacob to continue. That can’t be it.

“And what?”

“And what about Caine Foster?”

“Oh, right. That guy is more interesting. I’ll tell you all about him if you do something else for me.”

“What? I already did what you wanted me to do.” I would've screamed if we weren't in a fancy restaurant, but I don't want to attract any attention to us.

With the air currents teasing my naked pussy, I already feel like everyone knows my secret. I feel like everyone can tell that I’m not wearing any underwear and that I’d do anything the big man in front of me wants me to do, not because I don’t have a choice, but because it turns me on.

“Yes, you did good,” he says, like he's praising a dog for having done a trick. “But I never said I was going to tell you everything after the first task.”

“There's more than one? You're kidding me.” I can't decide if I’m angry or excited. The line is often blurred when it comes to Jacob.

“Calm down. There's only one other task.” Jacob speaks calmly, making it seem like I’m the one making a big deal out of nothing. “Besides, I can tell you like this. I know how wet you are. I have the proof right in my pocket.” He pauses and looks at me, his eyes telling me he's not going to be take no for an answer. “For now, just eat. Your food is getting cold. I’ll tell you what to do after the meal.”

I want to kick Jacob under the table, or even slap him in the face, but I do want to know what he knows. Besides, he's right. I'm still dripping between my legs. Following Jacob's orders just does it for me like nothing else.

We both eat in silence. The steak I ordered is perfectly tender and juicy, but I can't stop thinking about what Jacob has in store for me. We both eat quietly, the silence only occasionally broken by the waiter refilling our glasses of water. I feel tense, but Jacob looks like he’s enjoying this.

“Go to the restroom and wait for me there,” Jacob says as he wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin.

We're both done with the food. By this time, I’ve decided to do as Jacob says. I want the information and, to be perfectly honest, I want Jacob, too. So why fight it?

Without a word, I grab my purse and get up. A thrill runs down my spine when Jacob devours me with his eyes, tracing the curves of my body as I walk past him toward the restroom.

While waiting for Jacob in the spacious restroom, I freshen myself up. My heart is doing somersaults in my chest.

It's obvious to me what Jacob wants to do next. I’ve seen enough couples doing it in the restrooms at night clubs.

This place is no dumpy club restroom, though. This is a big, clean, fully enclosed, completely separate room with ambient lighting. To do it here at such a classy place seems perverse, but I can't deny the excitement I’m feeling.

It doesn't take long before I hear knocking on the solid wooden door. As soon as I open it, Jacob slips inside and pushes the door closed.

“Bend over,” Jacob says. His eyebrows are taut, his stare intense.

He looks at me like he's a predator about to devour me and, even though I should be running away from him as fast as I can, I find myself wanting to obey him instead, dying to sacrifice my body for him to use.

I guess this is not about the information anymore.

I face the mirror, the corner of the vanity counter cutting slightly into the top of my thighs, and bend forward. The polished granite feels cold through my dress.

I look over my shoulder to see if Jacob is pleased with what I’ve done for him. From the raging boner pressing against the back of my thigh, I assume he is.

“Good girl.” Jacob grabs my hair and makes me face the mirror. “Look at yourself. Pull your dress up and look at yourself while you're showing me your pussy.”

I glance at Jacob's reflection in the mirror, but he yanks my head painfully to force me to look at my own reflection.

I look like a woman in heat, with my eyelids heavy and my lips pouty. Is this what Jacob sees? It's no wonder he's so cocky around me. Jesus.

“I said pull your dress up.” Jacob says impatiently. “We don't have much time. If you take your time, I’ll have to punish you.”

“What do you--”

“Did I tell you to speak? And did I tell you to look at me?” Jacob pulls on my hair painfully.

I should be protesting, or at least asking him what he meant by punishing me, but instead I find my arousal building up. I reach back and hike my dress up until it bunches up around my waist.

“Good. Now spread your ass cheeks for me.”

I feel vulnerable. Tendrils of shame creep around me. But at the same time, I can't resist that drive within me that wants to surrender, to submit to Jacob’s demands. I reach back and pull my cheeks aside, giving Jacob full view of my most private bits.

“Open your mouth.” Jacob reaches into his pocket with his free hand, pulls out my panties—now crumpled into a ball—and stuffs them into my mouth. “You don't want anybody to hear, do you? It would be bad for your reputation. So here's something to help you. You can thank me later.”

He strokes my wet lower lips and I can’t help but press against his firm, skillful hand. I tremble with need, and realize he must feel the tremors. He smiles with satisfaction as he watches me. I’m used to having a big audience, but this private show makes me feel more alive somehow, more wild and dirty.

I hear the sound of his zipper and I know what's coming. Sure enough, soon the head of Jacob's hard cock pushes against my slit, his hand in my hair keeping me in place.

He pushes in, and all I can think of is how big he is. Everything about Jacob is larger than life. He’s stretching me so wide I feel like I’m about to burst.

“Look at yourself,” Jacob says as he pulls my hair so I look straight at my own reflection. “All dressed up like a lady, letting me fuck you in the restroom. And you're loving this. Don’t say that I made you do this because I can feel how much your pussy is clenching around me. I can see how soaking wet you are.”

I nod at Jacob's reflection. Trapping my gaze, he pulls out of me slowly and slides back in inch by inch, watching my reaction in the mirror.

“I’d love to play with you,” he says. “But we don't have much time.”

With that, Jacob stops messing around. Now he means business.

I’ve been dripping wet since the time we were still sitting at our table, so I can accommodate Jacob's impressive size without pain, but I’m nowhere close to an orgasm because we haven't spent much time on warming me up.

It makes me feel like we're only doing this for him, like I’m here bent over at my waist and spreading myself open with my own two hands, just to provide him with pleasure. This is not about me. As offensive as the idea should feel, it only makes me more eager to please him.

“Stay still, baby. Or else,” Jacob says with a hint of threat in his voice.

He grabs my waist and pulls me back while he slams into me. I yelp into my panties in surprise, my voice muffled by the cotton. But my hands keep pulling my ass cheeks apart, letting Jacob penetrate me hard and deep.

It feels freeing, in a way, to surrender myself to Jacob, to let him take pleasure from my body without me asking for anything in return. Jacob fucks me harder and harder, his grip on my waist tightening as his movements become more frantic. Just when I think I can't take it anymore, he shoots his load deep inside me, his face in the mirror contorted by pleasure.

I'm still not close to coming. But that face… Oh, that face. It drives me wild. if he’d as much as touch my clit right now, I’d explode.

But this is still not about me.

Jacob tells me to wait for a minute before walking out to meet him outside. He slips out of me and out of the restroom quietly, just as quickly as he came in.

But who is this girl I see in the mirror? It's been so long I barely recognize her. Messy hair, flushed cheeks, plump red lips. The freshly fucked look.

I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot more of her as long as Jacob’s in town, and I don't completely hate the idea anymore.