Her shouting of the word yes scares the entire restaurant, and Sophia claps in approval as they kiss. I’ve never seen them in a close embrace and it’s no surprise they’re all tongues and slobber, kind of like watching his bulldogs when they lick his face. It’s quite nasty, but I’m happy for them.
“That was smooth,” I say and shake his hand.
“It was brilliant!” Sophia bounces in her seat.
Alyssa stares at the ring and kisses his cheek then wraps her arms around his chest and rests her head on his shoulder.
My wife snaps a photograph with her phone and posts it online. “I want to see that as your new profile picture in the morning. You understand?” she says.
“Out with the old and in with the new,” he laughs. “I’ll update it just for you, Sophia.”
“And for Alyssa, dumbbell,” she says.
I deliver a congratulatory toast on their engagement and we clink water to wine as our food arrives. Meat for Haverty and myself, while the two glowing women at the table have salmon with brown rice and an apple salad. Nothing too rich for my wife’s queasy stomach.
Sophia looks hot tonight in her strapless black orchid dress and I can’t help but stare. I know the color because I ordered it for her to wear at Easter. It’s one of only two she owns that has a zipper in the front, giving me easy access to her tits. She notices my eyes on her chest and rubs her fingers on my upper leg.
My hand catches hers before she has a chance to slide it again. “Dove, don’t get me hard in front of our friends,” I whisper.
“I heard that,” Alyssa says. She’s bold, but even bolder when she drinks. “I don’t want any throbbing penises around me while I’m trying to eat.” She looks underneath the table and speaks to my dick. “You listening? Down boy.” Haverty laughs and tugs at her arm to stop. I close my legs, because the fact of the matter is, my dick is coming alive. Fuck.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
“Cove, I was only teasing. It’s okay if you’ve got a stiffy.”
“I don’t. I just need to use the restroom.” The three of them look down at my dress pants as I stand, but fortunately it’s only a chub, not big enough to poke its head out. It’s been eight short hours since Sophia’s sucked me off and I can’t believe how fast I recharge. I’ve been blessed and also cursed with a manic cock.
Damn it, there’s only one closed stall in the men’s room and the rest are urinals. And as luck would have it, the restaurant has an attendant in here as well. Hell if I’ll ever understand why a guy needs to be in a restroom to hand me a towel after I wash my hands. They’re probably perverts. It’s one of the oddest jobs a guy could have. I keep my head down as I walk past him to one of the urinals. I hate using stalls when there’re people around because they think I’m taking a shit. Oh thank fuck. The stress of this situation is warding off a full erection. Keep thinking about shitting in that stall or the attendant trying to sneak a peek at my dick.
Another guy walks in and pisses before I can even start my stream. Pressure. Nerves. Fuckin’ A. He leaves without flushing or washing his hands, which is asinine. The stench in restrooms when a guy doesn’t flush is sick, makes me gag. Plus he’s probably about to eat with dick sweat on his hands. At least we place ice in our urinals at the Scarlett to cut down on the stench. Good... I’m limp.
The attendant flushes for the guy who just left, and as I finish and shake; a hand moves in and clutches my dick.
“Need some help?”
In less than a second, Marcus has me trapped in the stall with my head against the wall. He reaches inside my pants and digs his fingernails into my nuts. I moan from the pain... a pain that becomes excruciating when he shifts from clutching my sac to squeezing my broken fingers.
“You pussy ass. Get you hands off me.” I jerk my arm in an attempt to elbow the motherfucker, but he steps away, exiting the stall to lock the main door before any customers can enter. I’m an idiot for not looking at the attendant’s face when I walked in.
“Stop following me, asshole, and just tell me what you want.”
“Oh, Cove,” he says while rolling up his sleeves. “Since when are you a fighter? Paul would’ve had his cock shoved down your throat if you ever spoke to him in such a way.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I whisper, still trapped in the stall with him in front of the door.
“Wait, what’s that?” he asks with a turn of his head and a finger to his ear. “Are you telling your wife and friends all about me over dinner tonight? Am I the hot topic of conversation?”
His obsession with blades over guns is apparent as I start to push past him and one’s pressed to the side of my neck in less than a second.
“Don’t,” he says. “We’re just talking.”
“So talk,” I demand.
“I’ll be at the Scarlett tonight to get the check and then I’ll leave you alone, but you have to do something for me, a couple of things, actually.”
“The money’s not enough?”
“Oh, the money’s plenty. It’s replacement for a recent purchase or two, or three,” he grins. “By the way, does this blade hurt pressed against your neck?”
My mouth stays shut. Just keep talking you little weasel.
“How about now?” He presses harder and I wince. “Aha, so that’s the amount of pressure it takes. Just curious.”
“Marcus...”
“Cove?” he winks and puts his hand on my dick. I flinch, disgusted by his touch, but convinced there’ll be a moment... a split second when he’s distracted and I can take a swing. “Cove,” he repeats in a whisper and attempts to stroke me off through my pants. “I want you to grow for me so we can fuck.”
My fist makes contact with his jaw and the knife falls to the tile floor. He holds his chin and smiles, eerily, just like Paul. I take a step back and he bounces... literally, the fucker jumps on top of me and brings me to the ground.
“So is that how you hit your wife? Do you give her a deserving smack now and again when she pisses you off?”
“Get the hell off of me.”
He stands and takes a step away as I rise, slowly, cautiously, and he bends down with his eyes fixed on mine to pick up the blade.
“So you don’t hit her then? I thought maybe because of all of the shit you’ve been through, you might be abusive, like myself.”
“Are you saying you beat your wife?”
“I never said that.”
“I’m leaving,” I shake my head in disgust. “Bastard.”
“No, I’ve got one more thing to mention about your wife.”
At this point, the quicker I can get out of this room the better, but when he mentions Sophia, I want to hear everything he has to say about her.
“Did you know she uses a jogging App but never turns it off when she’s finished with her workouts? You didn’t, did you? She also forgot to change her fitness profile from public to private, so right now any psychopath can stalk her. One just needs to find her name on the site to see her exact location. She’s not very bright, that woman of yours, is she? And why is it that I seem to know so much more about her than you do? Are you paying attention to her, or only yourself?” he unlocks the door and vanishes.
Fuck, fuck. My hand grips my hair and I pace. Okay. Chill out and get your ass back to dinner. I run cold water and splash it over my face then take a few deep breaths. Better.
Haverty opens the door, observes me gripping the sink, and passes along a paper towel.
“Sophia sent me in, she’s worried about you.”
“I’m worried about her,” I whisper with the towel over my face. My chest tightens when I realize she’s in the restaurant without our protection, and I push past him to make sure she’s safe. Her and Alyssa are at a distance, but Mr. Shithead is nowhere to be found. A back door’s been propped open for one of the bussers to carry out the trash. The perfect entry and escape for Marcus. I’ll have that check on me tonight. He’s getting it, in private, without setting eyes on Sophia. This is between the two of us, and I won’t allow him to terrorize any member of my family, especially her. I wish the asshole would just say what he wants... what he really wants from me so I can be done with him. I’m missing something and need to figure out what it is, what his plans are, and if his obsession with Sophia’s every move is to get under my skin and fuck with me, or eventually, fuck with her.