“Where the fuck are you going?” she springs from the back seat and runs toward me. “You didn’t trust me, Cove, and we’re married. Do you still think I’m going to cheat on you?”
“You’re wrong, I do trust you, more than I trust myself.”
“What the hell does that mean? Hey,” she grabs my arm. “Where are you going?”
“To work. I have a business to run.”
“Yeah, right! First and foremost, you have a marriage to take care of.”
“Soph, you’re being a bitch again. I apologized, now you need to accept it and move on. I was a dick. We’ve both reacted this way in the past so don’t be so hypocritical. Yes I trust you, but no, I don’t trust men. That’s not going to change. Deep down, I know you and I will never stray outside of this relationship. Call me arrogant or self-centered, I don’t give a shit, but I know I’m right. We need one another in order to breathe. I’m sorry, okay? I love you to death, but right now you need to get your ass inside. Let’s go to work.”
“What did you say to me?” she whispers.
“I said, get your ass inside.”
She clutches my forearm and takes a straight path, dragging me through the bar, past our workers, and up the stairs to my office, locking the door behind us. The chandeliers above the lounge area cast a soft light into the room and her body’s transformed into a silhouette. A dark faceless figure. She tucks her purse under my desk, its usual spot for the evening; then grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into an impassioned kiss.
“My ass is about to get to work,” she says.
The sound system buzzes and a second later Nina Simone’s voice soars swiftly and powerfully through the bar. That’s Haverty’s doing. He knows what’s happening up here.
“You’re about to feel good, Babe.” She references the song and I can sense a smile on her face.
“Soph,” I swallow hard, taking short erratic breaths. “I wanted to fuck you after we close tonight.”
She walks around my body with her fingers trailing across my chest, down my arms, round my back, and over my abs only to stop an inch from my dick.
“Shh. Don’t worry, I’m not going to let you cum,” she whispers.
Any tease from my wife is a good tease. Oh fuck. She’s gripping it, control me, yesss. My eyes close as she unbuttons my shirt, and I moan when our flesh makes contact. Sing it to me, Nina. I tilt my head back and Sophia drops to her knees. Fuck yeah.
“Cove!” Haverty’s voice calls up to the office.
“Fuck no,” I whisper. “Hold on, Dove.” I walk over to the balcony railing and see a grin on his face as he eyes my open shirt.
“Just wanted to let you know I’m about to unlock the front. You ready?”
I nod and turn to Sophia so she can get to work. Yeah, he’s fucking with us. I’ll get him back though. Just wait, Jimmy.
Now, back to my wife. Shit, she’s good at the flick, lick, swirl, and suck. My eyes close and my mouth drops open when she does that. I reach for the front zipper of her dress but she slaps my hand away from her chest.
“No,” she says. “I’m almost finished.”
“I’m not... more please,” I beg. “Let me at least touch your tits.”
She stands and brushes her lips against mine. “I want you hard so all you’ll think about the rest of the night is fucking me after we close.”
“I’m there,” I whisper, sliding my hand under her dress as she forces my dick inside my pants. With a zip, I’ve been caged, and I let out a groan in disappointment. “You know it’s claustrophobic down there; my poor cock,” I bite her earlobe and slip my finger past her underwear and inside her pussy. “It’s not fair I’ve got this bulge to hide from everyone, but no one can see that you’re wet. You’re really leaving me like this?”
“Like what? Desiring to be with your wife?” she steps back. “You hungry for me?” she takes another step away. “You feel a passion in your pants?” she laughs, no longer pissed about dinner. “Is your dick on fire... or is it your heart?” She opens the door and steps out. “I love you, Cove.”
She’s gone. And I know her well. She’ll head right to the restroom to fix her lipstick and then be out on the floor bossing the workers around.
Damn, that was a good tease.
But unfortunately I need to conceal... I look down and realize that’s not an option... no, it needs to heel like a good dog before I go downstairs. I send Haverty a text to bring me a cup of ice and then take a seat by the balcony railing to watch the lounge area and the front door. I’ll hang out here and wait.
He must not be able to hear his phone over the crowd. I call his cell, but he doesn’t pick up. He’s busy talking to a few of the customers. Damn it.
“Haverty!” I shout out. “Bring me some ice.”
He seems to be ignoring me, but after he shakes hands with a guy and pats another on the back, he gives me the thumbs up. Thank God. In less than a minute he’s standing next to me with a glass of ice in hand and a big dopey grin.
“What? She leave you hanging?”
“I wish it were hanging.”
He looks at my pants and laughs. “Wow, asshat. So you didn’t jerk it in the bathroom earlier?”
“You gonna watch me or can I have a little privacy?”
“I guess she got you back. Why don’t you jerk off now and be done with it?”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Why? You got problems with your dick? Yank it and come downstairs.”
“Hav, it’s a game with her, just give me a few minutes, alright? I’ll be down in no time.”
He walks away shaking his head and when I see him reappear by the bar he whispers something to Sophia who laughs and pinches his cheek. Shit like this would never happen if the three of us didn’t love one another so damn much.
I unzip and take a cube from the cup, slide it over my dick, and do my best to keep an eye out for Marcus.
The ice should help. Sometimes, after Sophia and I fuck, she finishes our play by running an ice cube along my cock. It’s calming, and she looks sexy as hell when she does it. Can hell be sexy? After all, it’s hot, fiery, red... yeah, hell must be sexy... there... think about hell and that will help too. With closed eyes I let the ice melt along my dick as it slowly shrinks to a somewhat normal size. Good enough to get my ass downstairs and show my face at the bar. Something I need to do more often, but I tend to be too busy or too fucked up to ever actually accomplish it on a regular basis.
Customers like to see and speak to the owner. It makes them feel appreciated. My mother and Sophia are great at socializing and have become the face for the business, while I usually lean against the back wall and try and look important.
The ice is melted and my pants are zipped. I lean forward and examine the scene before leaving my post. Haverty’s next to the bar with his sleeves rolled and his arms crossed. The employees love him and call him James, or sometimes Teddy because they think of him as a big teddy bear. The women hover around and ‘accidentally’ brush into him now and again.
The bartenders are busy, but still have time to put on a show by flipping bottles and glasses in the air, exaggerating their every move. I’ve told them not to do that shit. It makes them look like pussies, but they say they get better tips so I let it slide every so often. I guess if it’s okay that my wife and I fuck all the time during business hours, it’s okay for them to flip a bottle in the air.
The women we hire wear short black skirts and low-cut black tanks in the summer, and one-piece black dresses in the winter. The required lipstick is a dark red, like our wine, and they’re supposed to work the room once an hour, handing out free samples of The Dark Scarlett house wine to every guest. Once people sample it they usually buy a bottle. Yeah, it’s that good, and in the end, it’s the reason people come to our place.