The Warrior's Gamble

Chapter 7

Caitlin

Jake is talking about his trip to Ireland next month and I can't focus at all. Because, as predicted, the top of my dress is chafing against my sore, raw nipples that Tristan Donnelly sucked and bit up earlier today.

Oh, my god.

The memory of it all was making me flush and push my thighs together under the table at the sushi restaurant Jake brought me to tonight.

It was all so wrong, so dirty.

I loved every second of it.

I never thought I'd be into that kind of thing.

Being dirty talked and sucked dry like that.

God, it was so hot.

My phone buzzes in my purse and I manage to ignore it until Jake excuses himself to go the restroom.

_________

Tristan: hi

Caitlin: hi

T: what are you doing

C: I'm at dinner.

T: With McCormac?

C: yes...

T: what are you wearing

C: shut up

T: why are you texting me on your date?

C: he's in the restroom

T: come over after

C: no way!!!

T: don't go to his place after

C: you cant tell me what to do...

T: go home. go home and touch yourself in your pink princess bed. think of me while you fuck yourself with your fingers. pretend it's my hard cock inside of you, pumping good and hard, filling you with my cum till it drips out of you.

______________

I gasp and lock my phone.

My cheeks are on fire.

Jake returns from the restroom and takes my hand. "Shall we?" he smiles.

I nod and swallow, following him out of the restaurant.

Jake drives with ease to the suburbs. He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.

Damn Tristan Donnelly.

As predicted, I can think of no other man the same again.

"I wish you could come to Dublin with me, Caiti. You'd love it," he tells me with a handsome, charming smile.

"I don't want you to go," I tell him. He doesn't leave for three more weeks, but I like going out with Jake. He's comfortable. Kind. Friendly. Polite.

He'd never eat me out in a women's locker room then dirty text me later that night while I'm on a date with another man.

I run my hand through my hair absently.