Page 51 of Naked Coffee Guy
Candlelight Concert: Stay the Night with Paramore.
It’s a whole concert of Paramore music, all with stringed instruments. I’m suddenly so grateful Mac kept this a surprise. If he had told me we’d be listening to an orchestra covering Paramore music, I would’ve declined because there is no way I’d listen to Hayley Williams be reduced to fucking elevator music. But this is not elevator music. This is my soul on fire. This is a new way to breathe. This is everything.
Mac doesn’t move next to me for the firsts few songs, allowing me the moment to absorb the reverberation of the strings, to feel the pulse of the cello within my heart without any distraction. But around the fourth song in, I feel his hand snaking up my thigh. I close my eyes, the music traveling through me as Mac’s hand travels to the top of the slit in my skirt, then coaxes its way to my inner thigh. His finger brushes against the hem of my thong, and I sharply inhale. My breath feels shallow as he nudges the material aside and slides one finger across my slick folds, then another.
There’s no one sitting right next to us, but if the people in front of us turned around, they would see what Mac is doing to me. They would know by the flush in my cheeks, even in the dimness of this candlelit room. They would know by my spread legs, Mac’s hand buried between my thighs.
I fucking love this.
I lift my hips and Mac pulls my thong down, then over my legs, and finally my stilettos. He looks at me then, bringing my panties to his face and inhaling. I watch his eyes close, as if he’s savoring the most heavenly meal he’s ever tasted.
No, I’m mistaken. Because next he takes his fingers, the ones that have been inside me, and he brings them to his tongue, delicately licking them in the same way I wish he was licking me.
“Mac,” I whisper. That’s when he plunges those same fingers, now moistened with his spit, into my waiting pussy, showing me no mercy as the orchestra reaches a crescendo. I silently release around him, feeling my juices pour over his hand as he thrusts into me. My body is on fire, and as much as I love that we’re here, I also wish we weren’t. I need him inside me, to take me completely. I want to come undone.
His hand, my orgasm, the orchestra. All of it slows at the same time, and I eventually come back to earth. My neck is damp with sweat, and the cool air of the cave teases my wanting nipples. Mac leans in as he withdraws his hand, his mouth landing on mine in a soft kiss. His fingers explore my lips, and I can taste myself mingled with the warm honey of his mouth. It’s a recipe I could never grow tired of.
“How do you like the concert,” Mac whispers into my ear. He leans back, and I bite my lip at how sexy he looks in this moment, desire dripping from his face. I tug his beard, then pull him closer until I have his ear.
“It’s the most explosive thing I’ve ever experienced.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mac
“So, I get why you wanted me all to yourself in a crowded darkened room,” she says, squeezing my hand. I can still taste her pussy, and it’s taking all I have not to drag her back to my place and fuck her senseless. But I also want a proper date with her. Respectable. One where I exhibit a little bit of restraint.
But the honey of her essence is a taste I’ll never grow tired of, and I know I’ll fuck her before this night is over.
Emerging from the dimly lit cave, the parking lot seems like a whole other world. I glance at her, and the grin on her face is contagious. She does a quick spin on the asphalt, using my hand to twirl her. “Paramore? How did you know?”
I know exactly when I knew. Years ago, in her apartment. When I was invisible and she was everything. But I can’t tell her that.
“You told me,” I say, then remind her of the second first night we met…the night at the rooftop bar. “I’d never listened to Paramore, but after the way you gushed about the lead singer, Hayley whatshername, I looked up everything that band ever sang and listened to them nonstop.”
“Hayley Williams,” she says, “You did that, even though I walked out on you?”
“I did that because you walked out on me,” I say, which is the truth, “It made me think of you.” I pull her in under my arm then kiss her forehead. “I thought for sure you figured it out when you started singing in the car. It took everything in me not to ask you.”
“Never in my life would I have figured this out,” she assures me. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a Paramore fan.” She tilts her head up to mine. “What do you listen to, anyway?”
“Not Paramore, though I see why you’re a fan. I’m into Radiohead, Muse, Pink Floyd, Nirvana, Foo Fighters… Bands like that.”
“Solid retro choices.” She grins, then pokes me in the ribs. “You should try some girl bands, though. Women kick ass in music too.”
“I do,” I say as we reach the car, “I spent a whole month listening to Paramore, and then there’s this underground chick more people need to discover. Ever hear of Maren Huerta? She has a voice that won’t quit, plays a mean guitar, and has a slamming body. I’d totally fuck her if she’d let me.”
She hip checks me, then turns under my arm and pulls me close, her back against the car. I fall into her, my mouth landing on hers. The chill of the night is forgotten as I lose myself in the warmth of her kiss.
“She’d totally let you, especially after what you did to me in there,” she murmurs against my mouth, her hand landing on my hardening cock. I can feel myself straining against my slacks, and I swear to god I want to take her right here, right now. But that’s the exact moment her stomach rumbles, reminding me we still haven’t had dinner.
“We should eat,” I say, pushing off the car and taking her hand, “I know just the place.”
The place is The Coastal Plate, which is more touristy and laid back than the stuffy restaurants I usually frequent. But Maren isn’t one of those status-obsessed girls that keep landing in my path, and I have a feeling she’s down for some real food, and The Coastal Plate has some choice options.
For me, it’s a huge cheeseburger with avocado and bacon, ordered rare as fuck. For her, it’s the salmon poke bowl with extra ginger.
“So,” she says, folding her hands in front of her once the waiter leaves.