Just as she was about to leave, Cass watched him get on his knees and place his hands on his lap, one over the other.
"Anything you tell me to, Cassandra." He followed her every movement, his eyes jumping around her face, looking for any sign of wha...
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Her lips were slowly closing in around his head. He could feel the warmth of her breath against the engorged skin. Her eyes were closed.
Curls brushed against his groin as she finally made contact.
Kiss after kiss sent chills all over his body as she left a warm, soft trail from the base of his dick to the crown.
Lightly as a feather, moving in slow-motion, she electrified parts of his soul that he didn't know existed.
That was the first wet dream of his adult life. And, oh God, was it humiliating. Waking up panting as if he'd run a marathon, feeling cold wetness trickle down the side of his hip and onto the bedding.
Jesus fucking Christ.
It was a sort of embarrassment he'd buried deep within, not expecting to ever have it resurface. He couldn't quite point out what was so embarrassing about it but he felt like a horny teenager who'd just been caught by his mom as he tried doing his own laundry for the first time at the ripe age of 8.
And to admit it wasn't the only one he'd had in the 11 days it'd taken her to not say no to his proposal.
You would think that having an entire bar on your shoulders wouldn't give you too much time to fantasize about kissing the shoes of someone you aren't sure you'll ever see again, right? Well, no. Apparently not.
He had to force himself back to reality when he felt a strange sting on his knuckle, while he was scooping ice from the tray. He looked down to see blood on the ice cubes and on himself.
Taking out his phone to use the flashlight, he located a piece of clear glass.
"Tim, can you come here for a sec?" He called the only other bartender that's worked here in the last three days, trying to keep his raising panic at bay.
"Sup, boss?" It was mostly a habitual greeting.
Ent just lifted his finger to show it to the other man and then looked back down at the 50-cm-deep tray. "Do you have any idea why I found glass in there?"
"Oh, damn... I broke a glass while scooping ice last night." He looked like a scared puppy because he knew just how guilty he was.
"You were using a glass in there?" Ent tried to remember if he'd trained Tim himself or not.
"Couldn't find the metal one in the chaos, there were so many people here," he explained like he was already preparing to be scolded. "It was football night."
"Fucking hell, Tim..." He ran his fingers through his hair. "How many people could you have possibly served shards of glass?"
"I cleaned the tray, boss. Took all the ice out, cleaned it, and wiped it dry before I refilled it."
