Break Me Read Free Page B

A plate piled high with bacon sat in the center of the table and I reached out, snagging several pieces for myself.
    I’d learned with these guys that if you didn’t grab it as soon as it was put out, it would be gone before you looked up again. Only once did I have to leave without bacon.
    Eggs and toast, waffles and sausage, pan fried potatoes with peppers and onions, several large ham steaks rounded out the food. You could feel a small army with what my crew could put away in a matter of minutes.
    Talking ceased. The only noise from our table was that of silverware, glasses and cups being put down, and chewing.
    When I picked up the syrup to pour more on my pancakes, the unbidden thought of laying Claire out, bound to a table, with syrup coating her nipples and dripping from the lips of her sex flooded my brain.
    Specific, sexual thoughts and fantasies of her hadn’t ever really entered into it, but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.
    Playing with her, toying with her, making her moan, stretching her with my fingers, with toys, with objects, with my cock… Making her squirm, making her sticky. She’d be a delight to tease and deny.
    I’d thought to spank her, definitely take her afterward, but these ideas of playing with her were different. They were playful, erotic, naughty.
    The allure of Claire was untapped and I wanted to know every square foot of her depth.
    “Can I get you anything else, Sugar?”
    I glanced up as I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “No thanks, Jo. Just the check will be fine.”
    She stared down at me for a second longer, then nodded and walked away. I didn’t want to decipher the look in her eyes. I didn’t want to have to say no to what she wanted, but when I saw what she’d written on a separate slip of paper under the bill, I knew I’d need to skip the diner for a while.
    Damn shame, too. I loved their pancakes.
     
    * * * * *
     
    The café was full of life when I arrived. I was a little later than usual, but I didn’t think I was that late. I didn’t see Claire among the tables, either, which was odd, so I started wandering through book aisles. It wasn’t a large store, but it housed a lot of titles, with an emphasis on history. Italian. Texan. American. It was warm and inviting. I loved to read and it drew me in.
    Claire owning the place was the bonus. I loved coffee. And submissive women, too.
    She made a fantastic cup of Joe and served it just the way I liked it.
    Every time I got a view of the café, I glanced toward it, but never saw her. Maybe she wasn’t working. Maybe yesterday had pushed her too much. Maybe my gut was wrong about her. It wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong about a woman, but it would be one of the rare ones.
    I rounded the fiction section, Mystery, in particular. I loved a good suspense novel with gritty crime scenes and even grittier sex. The really good ones were hard to find, but there were a lot of decent ones. I bought two from her last week and devoured them both. I was in need of more.
    I’d read all the blockbusters and best sellers and new releases that I cared for, so I was back in the stacks searching for something I hadn’t read before.
    And that’s when I heard her. Jo. From the diner. Fuck .
    I slipped around the end of a bookshelf and stood stock still. She was just on the other side, directly behind me, sitting at the table I usually occupied.
    Wasn’t I the epitome of Dom? Hiding from a waitress because she’d given me her phone number and a hint of the panties she’d been wearing when serving our breakfast.
    “He’s playing hard to get,” I heard her say. I hoped she wasn’t talking about me, but I knew she was.
    “You really think so?” someone else asked.
    Jo giggled like a schoolgirl. “I slipped him my number this morning and told him about the black lace thong I was wearing.”
    Yep. Me. “ Shit .” The emphasis was clear, even in the whispered hiss of the word.
    “What did he say?”
    “He just smiled