Male Review (18 page)

Meg squealed as Sam’s T-shirt slid to the floor leaving her naked. Sam let the Irishman go and ran to retrieve the T-shirt. Now that Michael had got an eyeful there was no point, besides the cuffs were starting to dig into her wrists and her hands were going numb from being up in the air so long. “Forget the damn T-shirt, just get me down.”

Michael wandered closer, jingling a set of keys. “You want my help yet?”

Meg nodded. Right now she was more interested in being free than in maintaining her dignity.

Sam tried to snatch them off the Irishman. “Give me the keys.”

Michael held them out of Sam’s reach. “No deal. My keys, my job to save your damsel in distress.”

Meg tugged at the cuffs. “This is not a dick measuring contest. Just get me down.”

“What’s the magic word, darlin’?”

Sam glared at him, nostrils flaring. “I’ll rip your fucking throat out if you don’t get on with it.”

“That’ll do.” Michael laughed. Apparently delighted he had not only got to watch them making love, but had also managed to piss Sam off.

He stepped closer, reaching up to unlock the right cuff and Meg felt sure he was tall enough to release her without pressing himself so close. When he caught her eye he winked and wiggled his hips to let her know he was enjoying the whole event. She glared at him mouthing, “Pervert.”

Michael moved closer as he worked the catch loose and whispered, “Takes one to know one, darlin’.”

Sam growled and Meg tugged her hand free. In seconds Michael had the other cuff loose and she collapsed into Sam’s arms letting him tug his T-shirt over her head. It barely covered her arse, and Michael had seen it all already, but she felt less vulnerable untied.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The drive to Sam’s house passed in silence. He had suggested they stop to eat somewhere, but she said she was worried Maud might burn the flat down if she didn’t get home. He glanced at Meg. She stared straight ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. He let out a loud sigh. What a fucking nightmare. She was slipping through his fingers. Forcing her to let him tie her up had been too much. Ever since Maud moved in, things had begun to go wrong. He’d had sex with her without protection. Shit, what if he’d gotten her pregnant? That would no doubt be the end of their relationship. Her mother would geld him. And now he’d gone way beyond her comfort zone. Why did he have to push so hard for sex? He could live without it. He’d managed for months with only his right hand for company while he worshipped Meg from a distance. Not an hour ago she’d been worried she was too horny. Clearly the problem of being too horny was his, not hers. Even worse, he’d given that moron Michael Monaghan enough ammunition to hold over them for life.

Meg pulled up at the curb outside his parent’s house and Sam let out another loud sigh. What was the etiquette when you had publicly humiliated your girlfriend?

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

He glanced at Meg and she frowned at him and shrugged.

“For forcing you to let me tie you up and letting Michael catch us. It was stupid…”

Meg put her hand over his mouth. “FYI, I loved being tied up. Having Michael catch us certainly wasn’t the highlight of the evening, but he’s seen it all before.”

Sam tugged her hand from his mouth. “Not ours he hasn’t.”

“Yes, he has.”

Sam stared at her. “When? Where? Has he been spying on you? Bloody pervert. I’ll kill him.”

A grin spread across Meg’s face. “God, I love it when you go all Alpha Male on me.”

He growled and she giggled. Warmth spread through his chest. Maybe he hadn’t blown his chances, but he still wanted to know what she meant. “Michael?”

“Oh, yeah. He walked through the kitchen at my dad’s birthday party when you had me pinned to the cupboard.”

Another moment when his desire for sex had overridden common sense. “I thought it was just your dad?”

“Dad was the only one we saw. Apparently Michael didn’t see the need to interrupt.”

“I bet the pervert has been thinking about us together ever since.”

Meg grinned. “I wonder which one of us gets his blood boiling.”

“Don’t even joke. I’d put my money on you.”

Leaning toward him, Meg palmed his crotch, “Don’t sell yourself short. Ted’s the thing dreams are made of.”

Blood pulsed in his groin and he squirmed. Hadn’t he just given himself a firm talking to about being too pushy when it came to sex and now his dick was raring to go, again? He tugged her hand from his stiffening member. “Don’t call it Ted.”

“Why not?” Meg pouted. Her lips were so soft, so full, he groaned as a vision of her deep throating him slipped into his mind. His cock stiffened in response and he had to adjust his position, or risk permanent injury.

When her fingers strayed to the front of his pants and began to tug his zipper down all thoughts of protesting were lost. He sucked air through his teeth as cool air hit his swollen dick. Any discomfort was soon forgotten when Meg wrapped her hand around his steely shaft and gently slid her lips over the head of his aching member.

Apparently Ted had no memory of delivering its payload deep inside Meg less than an hour ago and throbbed, ready to spread Sam’s seed again. His balls ached, and he laid his seat back a bit to try and relieve the tension. When Meg eased her hand inside his pants and freed his testicles he sighed and let go. In the muted glow from the streetlights he watched as she took him deep before sliding her mouth up his shaft until she sucked the head, flicking her sweet soft tongue below the top, making him jump and harden in her mouth. No one gave head like her. She worked his shaft with her hand and fondled his balls as she took him deeper. He placed a hand on top of her head as the force built inside him.

His testicles tightened ready for release. A change in the luminosity made him glance toward the house. Jesus, the porch light was on and his mother was walking up the front drive in her dressing gown and slippers, any minute now she would catch him with his dick down Meg’s throat.

In panic he batted at her head in an effort to stop her. “My mother.”

Rather than discouraging Meg, it seemed his words drove her on, and when she closed her lips tighter around him and upped the tempo, every sensible thought left his head. He lifted his hips to meet her and when the first jet of spunk shot through his cock he barely managed to hold back his yell of delight. Meg kept going until she milked him dry, and then turned her head and grinned at him, her eyes twinkling.

“Sam?”

“Shit, my mother.”

Meg sat up in the driver’s seat wiping the corners of her mouth with her fingers as he struggled to put himself away. When he glanced at her she licked her lips and mouthed, “yum,” making him groan. God, she was insatiable.

A tap at the window drew his attention and he slowly wound it down.

“Mum?”

Meg smiled. “Mrs. Stephens?”

“Maggie. Nice to see you again.”

Sam looked from Meg to his mother. “Problem?”

“No. I was just putting the cat out and wondered what you were doing out here so long. I expected you home for dinner an hour ago.”

Before he could respond Meg leaned over. “We decided to stop for a nibble on the way. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, but I wish you’d told me, Sam, then I wouldn’t have made you any dinner. I’ll throw it in the bin. Maggie, why don’t you come in for dessert? We hardly get to see you since Sam moved back home. Not that we mind having him.” She put her hand through the open window and ruffled Sam’s hair.

Meg shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t, I really need to get home. Next time, I promise.”

When they were alone he wound his window up and glared at Meg. “Why did you tell her we ate? Now I have to starve.”

“You got to eat pussy.” She giggled when he shook his head.

“Sorry, it was the first thing that came to mind to explain where we had been. Probably because I just finished feasting.”

His pulse jumped. Food was overrated. He pulled her toward him and kissed her long and slow, the taste of his spunk on her tongue firing memories of her face buried in his crotch. When they finally pulled apart he rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Maggie Riley.”

She ruffled his hair and grinned. “I love you too, Sam Stephens. You and Ted.”

He growled. “I better get out of here before he hears you and wants a replay.”

“Always happy to oblige.”

Sam kissed her again. Plundering her mouth with his tongue and mapping her soft curves with his hands, remembering her naked, aroused, and completely at his mercy chained to the cross. She had come a long way in the last few weeks. The scared mouse who hadn’t wanted him to see her body and was sure she would never have an orgasm was fast becoming a sexual athlete. He would never have imagined she would be interested in anything kinky. His cock hardened at the memory of her writhing under his control. Breaking the kiss he fought for air, happy to see Meg’s cheeks pink with arousal. He climbed out of the car before his dick overruled his brain and he buried himself inside her again.

Meg leaned over. “It’s your day off tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Sam shoved his head back inside the car and nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“You want to catch up tomorrow afternoon after I drop Maud at the club?”

“Sorry, baby. I’ve got something I need to do.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

He opened his mouth to tell her he had to meet her dad, and then shut it again, remembering her dad swore him to secrecy. “How about I give you a call once I’m through? Maybe we can go out to dinner. We might even get something to eat this time.”

“Okay.” Meg grinned, not sure he should be banking on getting fed.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Meg stopped with a spoon full of cereal halfway to her mouth. Even though it was closer to lunch time than breakfast, wheat flakes were all she had left in the house to eat. Apparently none of her guests thought grocery shopping had anything to do with them. If they expected her to restock the pantry, they were going to be sadly disappointed. She had enough cash to put one more tank of fuel in the car, and then she was broke until Laura decided to pay her.

“What are you wearing?”

Maud did a twirl. “You like it?”

Did she? If the outfit was worn by some other eighty-year-old perhaps, but the brown wool skirt and shapeless cream jumper teamed with thick stockings and flat black walking shoes just didn’t look like Maud. She wasn’t even wearing a wig or makeup. She’d wrapped her grey streaked dark hair up in a bun. Meg shook her head. She looked like a sweet old grandma. No one would suspect she was part owner of a men’s strip joint and a raging nymphomaniac.

“Why are you dressed that way?”

Maud tugged out a chair, sat, and then reached over to snag Meg’s cup of coffee. “I got a hot lead.”

“On what?”

“A new place to live, dummy, and they say old people are slow.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain the costume.”

“I realized you’ve got to play the game if you want to get into these places. I need to look like an old lady.”

“News flash, you are an old lady.”

Maud snorted. “You’re as old as you feel. I figure I had my hands on about twenty-eight last night until Laura told me to put him down. Anyway, Doris Knight called. Mrs. Malone went into hospital two weeks ago and she won’t be coming home. She’s got a lovely, fully furnished bungalow at the Everglades. The garden has a back gate that leads onto the path by the bowling club. Doris says you can easily sneak in and out after curfew unseen.”

Meg couldn’t remember Maud mentioning a desire to move into the up market residence before. Rumor had it they were very uptight and had a million rules; it was more like an expensive jail for wrinklies.

“But why the Everglades? I wouldn’t have thought that was your scene at all.”

“It has a higher percentage of widowers than any of the others. Some of them aren’t too bad for their age and they’re all grateful for female company. Doris says it’s easy to get laid as long as you avoid the guards doing bed checks.”

Meg shoved her bowl away, her appetite gone at the thought of old people sex. Even worse, old people orgy at a retirement village. They should put something in their tea to stop the shenanigans. The sound of moaning drew her attention to the doorway. Dressed in a huge pink terry toweling bath robe and matching fluffy slippers, her mother leaned heavily on the frame holding her head.

“I think I need a doctor. I’m sick.”

“You’re not sick. You’ve got a hangover, Vivienne. Have some Panadol or the hair of the dog. I’ll get my bottle of gin from the bathroom.”

Meg crossed the kitchen and put the kettle on for more coffee. “Why in the bathroom?”

“I didn’t want your mother to find it. I think she’s turning into a lush, to say nothing of her insatiable desire for men.”

“I don’t drink and I don’t like men.”

Meg snorted. “Tell that to the bottle of rum you consumed yesterday.”

“And the naked man you chased around the room.”

Her mother collapsed into a chair and buried her head in her hands. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t drink and I am not interested in men. I just have a touch of flu.”

Maud rolled her eyes at Meg.

Once the kettle boiled Meg made fresh coffee and put a cup at her mother’s elbow along with two Panadol. Mrs. Riley reached out and patted her hand. “You’re a good girl, Meg. In a minute I’ll shower and dress so that we can get going.”

“Going where?”

“I made you appointments with a lawyer, my hairdresser Francois, and my fashion stylist at Madam Monique’s.”

“Sorry, I can’t. I’m busy today.”

Her mother lifted her head slowly and stared at her. “Busy with what? I told you I would be taking you out. Someone needs to take control of your life.”

“Maud needs me.”

“I do?”

Meg kicked the old lady’s foot and Maud nodded her head vigorously. “I do. She promised to help me out.”

Vivienne turned her cold blue eyes on Maud. “With?”

“With … with…”

“Aunt Maud, you’re so funny. You wanted me to drive you to the Everglades. You were going to check out the vacancy.”