Page 80 of Jace
It’s probably Delphine again, but when I check the text, it reads:
Big guy
Ladies room
Now
Down a chic,dimly lit hallway with art deco prints, I push open the heavy wooden door to the lavish ladies’ room.
It looks empty.
No one is standing at the floating onyx marble countertop with five sinks and golden swan fixtures. Sleek midnight-blue tiles line the walls that echo when I whisper, “Hello?”
I guess I’m alone.
Why did Jace want me to come in here? Where was he watching me from, anyway?
All week, I’ve caught glimpses of him dressed like a local billionaire. Chic sunglasses for men. Light linen pants. Pastel button-up shirt under a dark-navy jacket.
It’s not his style, but how else could a man his size attempt to blend in?
In the large, narrow room, there are five private stalls, all with their doors yawning open. I hear nothing but ambient music as I gingerly tread past each. They’re pristine and surprisingly large for a restaurant, but this is Palm Beach. Even for billionaires, nature calls.
This is silly.
My heart is racing like I’ve entered the Bates Motel, not a luxurious pit stop in a famous seafood restaurant.
“Jace?” I whisper into the void, gasping as a hand reaches out, yanking me into the fourth stall.
I don’t get my bearings before I’m taken in a kiss so hot against the tile wall. I know who it is by his creamy tongue tasting like banana ice cream, laving over mine with his groan.
Pinning me against the wall, he kicks the stall door closed. With one hand, he seizes my jaw, controlling my lips, taking hungry kisses.
With his other hand?
I pull back, realizing he’s holding an ice cream cone with two pale yellow scoops, licked into a neat column of cream.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, shocked, smiling, and so damn seduced.
“Eating.” He grins, his tongue shamelessly swirling over the treat. “You.” Holding his cone, he lowers to his knees. “Now, lift your dress and pull your panties aside. Quick. I’m hungry.”
“But, Jace, I…” protest but obey, shimmying up my mini dress. It’s a simple white cotton halter design. “Are you sure?”
He licks his ice cream, gazing up at me before his creamy lips warn, “Vivian, I swear if you don’t let me eat your pussyhere, I’ll carry you into that dining room in front of everyone and lay you on a table and fucking feast on what’s made me jerk off, waiting to taste for over a year.” He drags his zipper down. “Now be a good girl and put your pussy on my face.”
With my dress bunched around my waist, I tug my white cotton panties aside.
My exposure hoods Jace’s eyelids. “Good girl. Now rub your little clit, right in front of my face,” he coaxes. “Tell me what you thought of this morning while you fucked your fingers for me.”
This is so lewd, it’s hot. He’s on his knees, his thighs straining his fine linen pants. His big hand wrestles with his swollen erection until it juts free of his Calvins, all while he licks a creamy cone and watches me play with my pussy for him.
Confessing.
“I thought about how I want you to tie me to the fuck bench on the third floor.” He knows the one at Delta’s. It makes his nostrils flare. “I want you to bind my arms and ankles to it and tease me with toys.”
I circle my fingertip over my excited clit, inches from his nose. He inhales my scent and smirks. “Which toys?”
“The dirtiest ones. The big ones.” I’m getting so wet. “The ones that get my pussy and ass ready to take your huge cock.”
