Chapter 21

Right before dinner, Charles made it back to the cabin. With eyelids drooping and shoulders slumped, he was the poster child for exhaustion.

“You okay?” I asked from the couch.

“Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.” A low chuckle left him. “Hell, a long week.” At a sudden clinking from beyond the flowered curtain, he looked at the blocked pass-through. “What are they cooking?”

“Stew of some kind, I think.” I laughed. “They banned me from the kitchen.”

Not entirely true. As my hands wandered his wife, wearing that impish grin, she’d shoved me away when Susan and Desi arrived to “help.” Ever since, the only interaction was me chuckling at their occasional laughter.

“Well, I’m gonna change. Be back in a minute.” He tromped into the bedroom.

Not much later, the trio popped into view to set the table. Two place-settings sat next to each other before a single chair, and I glanced at Mandy. Did her cheeks redden? Nope. Instead, shiny teeth sank into the corner of her lower lip. Oh, and did those blue eyes ever glow! Compact frame in a white sundress adorned with colorful yellow flowers, she returned to the tiny kitchen.

The girls said nothing either, although Susan wore an expression that made my spine tingle. Beneath a skimpy purple top, both high-beams were on. Red-faced, Desi just stifled a giggle as they fled back into the kitchenette.

Seconds later, all three reappeared, carrying bowls filled with the most aromatic meat and veggies. My stomach rumbled.

“Come and get it,” Susan called out.

A grin appeared on her father as he left the bedroom. He marched to take his usual place.

After the girls took their seats, they gave me expectant stares; his wife stood beside the remaining spot. My heart thumped, but I parked myself on the final chair, and Mandy settled into my lap. With her husband not saying a word, it was a replay of our first meal. She sat motionless but for slow wriggles of that firm rear.

Only when my hands swept forward, reaching for one of the two nearest bowls, did he clear his throat. My muscles clenched, and I braced. He had to comment. Spit out a complaint. Must say something. Oh, he spoke alright.

“So, how was the picnic?”

At that, I didn’t know whether to laugh or just confront him. His wife noticed my tensing and pressed harder into me.

“It was wonderful, dear,” she replied. “Jim showed me the most amazing sights. Mmm, truly impressive. And, uh, we had such great fun.”

He smiled at me. “Thanks, Jim. Hope Mandy wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Um, no. None at all.” I chuckled. “Managed to keep her under control.”

At that, we all laughed, although the girls’ eyebrows rose. Nope, pretty sure the impish minx wasn’t sharing details, but they weren’t fools. Mandy leaned back with a sigh; her speeding heart battered my chest.

As we ate, she continued to press. If nobody was looking, her squirming became more forceful ... and my body was responding. When she twisted to look at me over a spoonful, her eyes blazed, and I grinned. Yeah, she needed fucking again.

It was her own fault, the little tease. The thing is, I’d been tormenting women for thousands of years. With a husband engrossed in his phone and the girls chatting, I slipped a hand from the table. The tiniest whimper escaped her as my fingers eased the hem up a trembling thigh.

By the time the meal ended, my nails were scratching soaked lace, and the red-faced imp was rubbing faster on my stiff, straining flesh. If not for the food, we’d all be smelling sweet arousal.