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Preppy, Part Three, The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater (King, #7) by T.M. Frazier (15)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dre

Preppy had insisted on taking me out on a date because, as he put it, “We’re married with a kid, but we’ve never really been on a date.”

I pointed out that he’d taken me to lunch once at Billy’s crab place (pre Narnia) but he simply stated that since I was still unsure of whether or not he was going to kill me at the time, it didn’t really count.

That’s how we found ourselves sitting on the back deck of Red’s Seafood and Steaks, a place the locals loved but usually didn’t frequent because it was usually tipping over with seasonal tourists. However, we’d been shown to our table the second we arrived, and although it was busy, it wasn’t overly crowded.

And it smelled like HEAVEN. Lightly fried seafood, garlic, and fresh baked bread. I inhaled deeply and groaned. My stomach growled.

“Keep doing that and we’re not gonna make it through dinner,” Preppy said, gazing at me with a heated expression in his eyes. “And I told you I was taking you on a real date and on a real date they usually have a meal.”

“Oh yeah? Where did you learn that?” I asked.

“Google,” Preppy answered, flashing me a smile that made my nipples stand at attention. Seriously, the man was insanely good looking and right there at dinner I officially decided something.

There was no one on the planet sexier than Samuel Clearwater.

NO ONE.

He’d been working out with King like crazy. At first it was just to get his body back in working order after the ordeal with Chop, and then it kind of became a routine he enjoyed. And even though he was beyond attractive before, he was now a woman’s walking wet dream. All those new muscles were now teasing me from under his white button-down across the table.

I was embarrassingly wet as I appraised him.

Apparently he was doing the same. “Wow,” he said. “If I didn’t know you and you walked by me I’d take a mental picture for my spank bank. Fuck that, I’m gonna do it anyway.”

I felt the blush rising in my cheeks. “I think you look pretty great yourself.”

“It should be illegal to want to fuck you so bad,” Preppy murmured, reaching over and brushing the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. I leaned into his touch.

I gave his thumb a kiss. “And what if it were illegal?” I teased.

“It wouldn’t matter.” He lowered his voice. “‘Cause baby, I was born to break the law.”

“Do you need a few more minutes?” The bubbly waitress asked, her blonde ponytail bobbing as she spoke. She’d interrupted us at the very minute I was going to convince Preppy that a proper date didn’t necessarily consist of a meal, but can also consist of just animalistic fucking in the location of his choosing.

I was still staring down at my menu but I hadn’t read a word. Preppy had been lazily rubbing the tip of his boot on my ankle under the table. He looked completely unaffected while I hadn’t gotten through the appetizer list.

Preppy lowered his menu and smiled at me. “I think we need a few more minutes.”

“Preppy?” the waitress asked excitedly, pointing her pen at him. “I can’t believe it’s you. It’s been such a long time.” She jutted out a hip and pushed out her ample chest. “How you been, darlin’?”

“Been great. Have you met my wife?” Preppy asked, never taking his eyes off mine.

“You’re married?” she asked, still smiling, her lips barely moving as if it pained her to keep that expression plastered on her face.

“Sure as shit am. This is the missus, Dre. Dre, this is...” Preppy leaned in to read her nametag. The girl huffed in annoyance. “Tara.”

“It’s TAR-RUH,” she corrected.

“Gesundheit,” Preppy said. “Can we get two beers while my wife here gives the menu another read through?” Without waiting for a reply he added, “Thanks.”

TAH-RUH went to get our drinks and Preppy continued to rub my ankle. “I think I’ll get the fried catfish,” he said, staring down at his menu.

“Can I ask you something? That girl. Is she someone you...” I let my question trail off.

“Fucked?” Preppy said, loud enough so that the elderly people at the table next to us spun around to see who was flinging around the offending word. I held in a chuckle. “Yeah, probably,” he said casually. “Why, Doc? You jealous?” he teased.

I shook my head. “No,” I answered, because it was true. Preppy didn’t give me a reason to be jealous. His attentions were always on me and I’m not one of those people who could be upset by the past. At least not anymore. “Curious was more like it.” I set my unread menu down on the table I leaned forward. “And why probably?”

“Probably is because chances are pretty high that if she knows me and we’ve hung out that I’ve fucked her. However, I don’t remember her. I don’t remember any of them.” His eyes met mine. “But you?” He reached across the table and laced his hand with mine. “Not only do I remember every single amazing second with you.” He sucked in his bottom lip, darting the tip of his tongue out when he released it, staring at me like he was hungry, but not for food.

For me.

“I can still taste you.”

My lips parted and I felt my cheeks grow warm. I was afraid if I stood up off the plastic chair that I’d leave a puddle in my wake. My thighs trembled.

“Have y’all decided yet?” the waitress asked, pulling out a pen and pad from her apron. I still hadn’t looked at the menu.

Preppy chuckled, sensing my dilemma. “We’ll have two blue crab plates.”

“Good choice,” she said, taking down our orders and leaving the table.

“Thanks,” I said. The sun was setting over the river. Preppy traced lazy circles over my wrists. It was a romantic moment and I felt like I was spoiling it by being so turned on I could scream. I was squirming in my seat like a kid who couldn’t sit still. My nipples were painfully hard underneath my blouse. My breasts heavy and full.

Preppy called over the waitress. “We’re gonna take a little walk before our food comes.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up from my chair. He tugged me along behind him as we walked down the pier to the small beach below.

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep up.

“I gotta take care of a situation,” he replied. The restaurant was half on land, half on pilings, creating a shadowy overhang onto the beach that was already in the dark and the sun hadn’t even fully set.

“What kind of situation?” I asked, breathing heavily as he pulled me into the back corner of the overhang. Sand fell as patrons and staff walked around on the deck above us.

“I can smell you, baby. I know what has you wiggling around. I aim to fix it for you by giving you this big cock. Right fucking now.” He grabbed my wrist and set my palm on the front of the huge bulge of his pants. I gasped. He wasn’t joking. He was rock hard and straining against the fabric.

He crushed his lips to mine and made quick work of pushing my skirt up my thighs. I reached for his pants, unbuckled his belt and his fly, releasing his massive erection. It hung heavy and hot in my hand. He groaned when I touched him, but pushed me away, spinning me around. “Hands on the wall,” he ordered.

I placed my hands on the wall as I was told. Preppy had already pushed the strip of fabric covering my pussy aside and was pushing his hard heat into me. I groaned and sucked in a breath when I realized that the people above us could probably hear me. I arched back against him, needing more and more and he gave it to me. Glorious inch by inch until I couldn’t take him any further.

“Hold the fuck on, Doc,” he whispered the delicious warning in my ear, his cool breath tickling my skin.

Chills ran down my spine. I bit back a scream as he began to furiously pound into me, his massive cock rubbing against every nerve inside me with each torturous stroke. In and out. In. Out. His fingers dug into my ass cheeks while he gave me exactly what I’d needed. What I’d been craving.

Him.

All of him.

“I won’t ever get enough of this beautiful fucking pussy,” Preppy groaned. “Holy fucking shit.” His pace became fast and reckless, a sure sign that he was about to come. He pushed into me as hard and as deep as he could and I thought right then I was going to tip over the edge until he twisted his hips and I lost my fucking mind. I cried out as the orgasm that had started out mild exploded into something not of this universe. I didn’t just feel it in my pussy, I felt it in my nipples, in my skin, in my fingertips. Bursts of pleasure that weren’t like a wave, but like lights growing brighter and brighter until the glass bulbs shattered all around us. We were still breathing heavily through our recoveries when reality came back into focus and I realized that’s exactly what he’d done to me.

He’d shattered me.

Thoroughly. Beautifully. Crazily.

I never wanted to be put back together.

Preppy

I want to say that every time with Dre was like the first time, but it wasn’t. It was BETTER.

The anticipation. The need. It only grew, thickening between us with each tick of the clock.

I’d never get enough of her smell. Her taste. Her touch. HER.

Not now.

Not ever.

I tucked myself back in my pants and tried to put Dre back together best I could. It was downright adorable when she stumbled around like I’d just fed her half a bottle of tequila, but the truth was my legs were feeling a little shaky too. I held tightly onto her arm to guide her back up to the deck. She looked up at me with the goofiest smile on her face. When we made it back to our seats. I let Dre sit first and pushed her chair in.

“Thank you. So chivalrous,” Dre pointed out, crossing her legs and setting her napkin back on her lap. She was practically glowing, and I’m not a huge fan of a pussy word like GLOWING, but there was no other way to describe her.

I sat down and grabbed my beer. “I mean, if a quick hard fuck in a public place doesn’t make me chivalrous than I don’t know what does.”

Dre laughed just as TAR-RAH brought us our food. She cleared her throat. “For the record, I heard you,” she said setting our plates in front of us.

Instead of being embarrassed or looking to me to make things better like most chicks would, my wife winked at the waitress. “I was kind of hoping you would.” She set the check down on the table and left but she could have been naked skipping through the place and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was too busy staring at the swollen lipped little vixen that was my wife as she took a sip of her beer. “Holy shit, I’m getting hard again,” I said.

Dre covered her mouth to prevent spitting her beer onto the table. She laughed as she wiped the dribble on her chin with a napkin. “The things you say,” she said, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Does it bother you?” I asked. “The way I talk. The things I say.”

She shook her head. “No. I think the way your mind works is incredible. Hilarious at times, but still incredible. It’s unexpected.” She pressed her lips together and toyed with the edge of the label of her beer. “You’re just you, and there’s no one else like you.”

I coughed and glowered at the bottle in my hand as if it was the beer’s fault, and not my emotions, I was choking on. “I think the way you look. The things you do. The way you are with Bo. With me. God fucking damn it, Doc. You’re the incredible one.”

She inhaled sharply.

“Now eat while you can because I have a surprise for you,” I told her.

“Another surprise?” she asked, eagerly picking up her crab-cracker. She stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth and concentrated on breaking the hard shell of the crab.

I took a sip of my beer and leaned over my plate. Her eyes met mine.

“You’ve got a lifetime of surprises coming your way, Doc.”

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