She pushed open the heavy glass door, a bell chiming above her head. She turned back to the crowd, her hands covering her breasts, her thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. “What would he say if it were me?” She turned the car around and headed home, her mind racing, her body aching with a need she’d never acknowledged before. She could feel his hardness, hot and insistent, against her thigh. She scrolled through her phone, her fingers dancing over the screen. Come on in, sweetheart. She could feel her orgasm building, her body tensing, her breath hitching. Marcus stepped back, his chest heaving, a cruel smile on his lips. She swallowed, her body shaking with need, her pussy clenching around nothing. Marcus stepped back, his chest heaving, a cruel smile on his lips. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Her fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress, the sound of it descending loud in the silent room. She was theirs, completely and utterly theirs. “You want this, don’t you, Kayla? Marcus growled into her mouth, his fingers hooking into the lace of her thong, pulling it aside. “Good girl,” he said, before turning to the crowd.
