“Great start, Chastity.” Now I’m talking to myself. Cringe. I hope he didn’t see that.
When I get to the table, he pushes out the chair across from him with his foot. “Have a seat,” he says, inviting me.
“How’d you know I was coming to join you?” I ask.
“Well, it just might be the fact that you weren’t bringing me a beer.”
Ten
Kanen
Canada comes over, a little unsteadily in those high, high heels, ones that make her legs and ass look amazing. Part of me wants to grab her and bend her over the table and the other part wants to offer her my arm. I compromise by pushing the chair out for her, and she gratefully sits down.
“It feels so amazing to sit,” she says with a sigh.
“It feels pretty good to sit across from you as well,” I smile at her, drinking in her beautiful, kind, slightly flushed face, and I sneak a peek at her cleavage. There’s something about her body, even when it’s tarted up like this, that still seems so innocent and pure. But not so innocent and pure that I could exactly stand up right now. Hence, pushing her chair out with my foot.
Her friend comes over, and sets two tall glasses of beer in front of us.
“Did you come to congratulate Chastity on her first day?” she asks, smiling.
“It’s just a lucky break on my account. I was driving back from the country and suddenly got mighty thirsty,” I say. “Seeing Chastity here is a damn lucky coincidence. That she can sit with me is even luckier.”
She looks down, and then sneaks a look at me in this way that grabs my heartstrings. Damn this girl, she’s fine.
“Chastity, would you like something to eat?” Lacey asks.
“Just a salad,” she says. “Whatever you recommend.”
“You’re not going to have a burger with me?” I ask. “My treat, Canada.”
“If you insist,” she smiles.
“And I do. Your finest Angus beef burger,” I smile. “Sound good?”
“Yes thanks.” She smiles gratefully. “So what were you up to today?” asks Chastity when Lacey leaves.
I’m not sure I’m ready to tell her about the kids and the whole Center thing yet. It’s something I’ve kept to myself ever since I started. I don’t want to act like one of these assholes doing good deeds for publicity or to get themselves out of trouble. Little Native kids are not a photo op to me. Nor are they a way to impress girls.
“Oh you know, this and that,” I say vaguely. “I’m just happy it led me to you. How do you like working here so far?”
“It’s fine, the people are nice,” she says, but sort of evasively. That’s okay by me not to pry; it’s hard to concentrate on her words anyway when her body is calling me. Kanen, it’s saying. Take me now, touch me with your callused hands, kiss me with your soft mouth, run your rough tongue along my every edge. But I force myself and forge ahead. “I’m not sure if I’ll stick with it, though,” she’s saying. “I was just hoping for something to keep me busy.”
“Well that’s no reason to work at a tough job,” I say. “How are your feet doing in those shoes?” I can tell she’s just taken them off under the table and is sneakily rubbing her feet. “Those things are so sexy, I bet they can’t be one bit comfortable.”
“You’re right. They’re not doing so great!” Her face twists into a cute little grimace. I reach under the table to take one of her feet and put it in my lap, rubbing the delicate sole gently and firmly. The grimace turns into a sigh and soon she’s swooning.
“You don’t have to...” she says, before she moans. “I mean, I should be stopping y— oh God that feels good.”
“Enjoy it, Princess,” I say.
Her moan has made my cock harden even more. I think I’d explode out of these jeans if I could. And her toes are dangerously near me. They’re painted pink—kind of a soft pink. I bet the same color as the slick folds between her legs. I continue to rub her foot, my thumb going between her tiny toes, and kneading the muscles while she groans in pleasure.
The other waitresses are looking on in what I can only imagine is jealousy, seeing Canada with her head back and moaning and groaning uncontrollably in pleasure. They eye me, and as soon as I look their way, their faces change into smiles that have more than a hint of falseness. But I smile back, slowly, before turning back and giving my full attention to my dark-haired beauty here.
“I like making you moan,” I say with a smirk. “Let me have the other foot.”
She puts it forward with an apologetic smile on her face. “I want to say no, but how can I when it feels so good?” she says.