An Alliance Bonus Scene

by S.J. Tilly

“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t drive yourself.” Nero complains, again,
as he holds the door open for Payton.

I roll my eyes and keep my hand on Savannah’s lower back, guiding her into Twin’s Café ahead of me.

“I’m not driving you home,” Nero grumbles as he steps directly in front of me, letting go of the door.

I catch it before it can clip my shoulder, then kick my foot out, hitting the bottom of Nero’s shoe, making him stumble.

“King.” Savannah’s admonishment is ruined by the fact that she’s smiling.

“Yes, Wife?” I feign ignorance.

Payton hooks her arm in Savannah’s, and they walk together toward the counter.

Nero and I fall into step behind them, listening as Payton tells Savannah her favorite sandwiches.

On the ride over here, the two women sat in the back seat, heads tipped together,
whispering to each other the whole time.

I wanted to know what had them snickering but didn’t want to interrupt.

I’m not surprised that they’ve become friends. I knew they eventually would. But it’s nice to see that it happened so quickly.

And judging by the grin on Nero’s face, I know he’s happy about it too.

“Hi, Payton.” An older woman raises her hand in greeting before she steps into the kitchen at the end of the dining room.

Payton waves back, then she and Savannah stop in front of the counter across from a guy I recognize from our last visit.

The girls order.

And order.

I bite down on a smile as they each get a lunch and a breakfast entrée, along with
lemonades.

The guy lifts his attention over our wives’ shoulders to me and Nero. “For you two?”

“Turkey bacon panini,” Nero answers first. “And a cherry Danish.”

“The pesto sandwich. And a side of fruit.”

“Loser,” Nero mutters.

I ignore him.

The girls step to the side, and I extend my arm, holding my credit card out for the cashier.

He reaches for it. But before his fingers can close around the plastic, Nero darts his hand out and slaps mine down.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I glare at my annoying friend.

“I got it.” Nero holds out his credit card.

The cashier hesitates before he moves to take it.

I slice my hand down against the inside of Nero’s elbow, forcing his arm to bend, moving his card out of reach.

“Dick.” He shoves against my side.

I drop my card on the counter for the cashier, then shove Nero back.

He stumbles a step but manages to snag my credit card and swipe it off the counter onto the floor behind us.

I snatch his card out of his hand and drop it in the tip jar. With my other hand, I pull a stack of cash out of my pocket and push the money into the cashier’s hand.

Nero’s pulling his card out of the jar when I grip the front of his shirt and drag him away from the counter. “Pick up my card.”

He doesn’t.

He kicks it, sending my credit card across the floor.

I shove him as I let him go. “You’re the dick.”

The girls are sitting at a table in the back corner and pretend they don’t know us as we approach.

I’m tempted to kick Nero’s chair out from under him before he can sit, but Payton might actually get upset at me for that, and I don’t want to ruin the mood.

We sit across from our other halves, and the wives continue to chat.

It’s not until most of the food is gone that I notice something is off.

Savannah is smiling.

Big.

Then Payton giggles. Giggles.

I narrow my eyes.

Savannah leans toward Payton like she’s going to tell her a secret. Only it doesn’t come out as a whisper at all. “Should we?”

“Should you what?” I reply before Payton can.

My wife bites her lip. “Uh, nothing.”

I lean forward on the table. “What’s going on?”

Nero looks around before focusing on the women seated across from us.

Savannah shares a look with Payton before she leans against the table, mirroring me. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

I tip my head to the side.

Her eyes are bright… but a little red, matching her cheeks—which are still smiling.

She’s not actually worried about me being mad.

She’s…

I bite down on my own smile, figuring it out but wanting her to say it anyway. “I promise.”

Nero leans forward beside me. Payton does the same, giggling again.

“What—” Nero starts.

“We kinda got a little high.” Savannah presses her lips together.

“We?” Nero’s voice comes out startled.

Savannah snickers.

“And how did you manage that?” I ask, keeping my expression neutral.

My wife stops fighting her grin. “Edibles. Ginger gave me some. And you can’t get mad at her. You already promised.”

I dip my chin. “And when did you eat these edibles?”

“On the ride over.”

“What do you mean we?” Nero cuts in. “Payton, are you stoned right now?”

Payton nods.

Savannah snorts.

And Nero gasps.

Like some shocked old lady, Nero literally fucking gasps.

And I stop fighting my grin too.

“Are you okay?” Nero reaches across the table, trying to put his hand on Payton’s forehead.

She grabs his fingers and gives him a handshake. Then she giggles again.

Which sends Savannah into a fit of laughter.

Nero turns his head to face me, features tight with stress. “What do we do?”

I lift a brow. “What do you mean, What do we do? They took weed, not arsenic.”

“Arse,” Savannah says the word in a British accent.

Payton doubles over with laughter.

I purse my lips. “On second thought, we should probably get them out of here.”

“We’re driving together.” Nero sits up straight.

I shake my head. “No.”

“No? You made me fucking drive you here, and now you’re saying no?”

“Yeah, now I’m saying no.”

He throws his hands up. “Why?”

“I have plans.”

Nero glares at me. “Change your plans. Our wives are high.”

I smirk. “I know.”

I already knew Savannah was going to enjoy my surprise… but now she might enjoy it even more.

“Why are you so calm right now?” Nero grips the edge of the table.

Honestly, no one makes me roll my eyes more than Nero does.

“I’m calm because I’m not a giant dumbass. And because this isn’t the first time Savannah has pulled this stunt.”

Nero looks at his wife, then back at me. “She’ll be fine?”

I lean toward him so he can’t miss my eye roll this time.

He tries to poke me in the eyeballs.

I swat his hand away.

“Can I get a muffin?” Payton asks, distracting Nero from retaliating.

“Yeah, you can get a muffin.”

“Oh, I want a muffin too,” Savannah adds.

I push back from the table and stand, holding my hand out for Savannah. “Let’s go order some muffins to go.”

My wife grips my hand, and I pull her to her feet.

She smiles up at me.

I give my head a small shake even as I smile back at her. “You’re trouble.”

She bats her eyes at me. “I’m an artist.”

“My artist.” I press a kiss to her temple.

Payton laughs again, and we turn to see Nero helping her out of her seat.

Standing, Nero grips Payton by the shoulders and bends down so his nose is an inch from hers. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Payton nods, clunking her forehead into Nero’s.

Savannah snorts again.

Nero doesn’t react, even though I heard their skulls connect and Payton is rubbing at her forehead.

“You want some ice for that?” Nero asks his wife while I resist laughing.

Payton shakes her head, avoiding injury, then her eyes widen. “I want an ice latte. Iced latte… La-tay.”

“Coconut honey?” Nero asks, still serious. Then he pulls back an inch so when Payton nods this time, they don’t hit heads.

Nero stands upright, still holding one of Payton’s arms. “We’ll get two.”

Savannah tugs on my sleeve. “I want a latte too.”

I shake my head.

Her mouth drops open. “What?”

“I’ll make you one at home.”

Her jaw drops open farther this time, and my eyes linger as I think about the things she can do with that damn mouth.

“But… I want one from here.”

She looks rightfully outraged, but I don’t know if the car I hired has cupholders, and I have plans.

“No drinks.”

“But—”

I snap my fingers, and my wife snaps her mouth shut.

It’s a handy trick I make sure not to overuse because I love when it works.

Payton presses her hands over her lips, but even if she was sober, she wouldn’t be able to hide her amusement.

Savannah’s lids lower over her eyes. And I fucking love that she can’t hide her reaction to me.

“That seriously works?” Nero asks. Then he snaps his fingers in front of Payton. “No more getting high in public.”

“No.” Payton lifts her hands and tries to snap both at the same time.

But she doesn’t accomplish any sound.

Her brows furrow, and she tries again.

And again. “I don’t remember how to snap.”

Nero sighs, then grips her wrists and lowers her hands. “We can practice at home.”

Savannah stands at my side as we order a muffin, a chocolate croissant, and a bear claw to go.

And I resist the urge to punch Nero when he demands I pay. Saying I owe him for my wife getting his wife high.

Even though I’m sure I tipped the cashier twice over what our meals cost the first time, I take out more cash and hand it across the counter.

Then we exit the café, and my blood starts to flow.

Fingers entwined with Savannah’s, I turn down the sidewalk, in the opposite direction from where Nero parked.

Savannah is quiet at my side.

And she stays quiet as I lead her to the rear door of a black town car.

The windows are tinted beyond legal, so there’s no way to see in, but I know the driver is in place. And he stays where he is because that’s what I told him to do.

No speaking.

No looking.

Just driving.

Savannah ducks into the back seat first, and I admire her ass in those flowy black pants.

I take off my suit jacket, then I follow her in.

When I close the door, the driver lifts a pair of noise-canceling headphones off the passenger seat and puts them on. Then he clips a cover over the rearview mirror.

Beside me on the bench seat, Savannah’s hand finds mine again. “What is this?”

The driver pulls away from the curb into the afternoon downtown traffic.

I drop the bag of baked goods onto the floor along with my jacket, then I reach up, pressing the button that opens the sunroof above the rear seat.

“King?” My wife’s voice is breathy.

“You know exactly what this is.” I twist on the seat to face her. “Undo your pants.”

Her chest rises and falls, and I watch her cleavage heave in her low-cut top. But she reaches for the clasp on her pants with both hands, undoing the top hook and pulling the zipper down.

“Lean back.”

She settles against the seat.

“Spread your legs.”

She does as she’s told, her eyes darting to the back of the driver’s head.

But the driver keeps his eyes forward.

He knows the rules. Five figures for completing the job as asked. A bullet in the brain for breaking the rules. And considering he’s an escort working to pay off his medical degree, I trust he’ll choose the right outcome.

I lean into Savannah, sealing my lips against the side of her neck.

She tips her head back. And I slide my hand down the front of her pants.

A thin layer of lace separates her pussy from my seeking fingers.

I flatten my fingers over her slit and press.

Just press.

But I can feel her clench against my touch.

I lick up the side of her throat. “You can moan, Savannah Baby. He can’t hear you.” The vehicle comes to a stop at a red light. “But not too loud. Or else the people on the sidewalk will.”

Her eyes pop open as she looks up at the open sunroof.

Then I push my middle finger forward, snugging it against her entrance and dragging it up… over her clit.

She moans and reaches for me.

I press my lips to her cheek. “Grab your tits for me. Let me watch.”

My good little wife does exactly as she’s told.

She palms her breasts, her fingers flexing around the flesh.

I rub circles over her clit and groan because her panties are already damp.

“You wet for me already?”

Savannah nods.

“Pinch your nipples. Show me just how wet you can get before I make you come.”

A sound catches in her throat as I watch her stick her hand through the low neckline of her shirt.

My cock throbs.

I’ve been half hard since I made this plan. But I’m all the way hard now. And already wondering when we can do this again.

“Take it out.” I grit the command.

She starts to slide her hand out of her shirt as she reaches for my lap with the other.

“Your tit.” I shift in the seat and palm my cock through my pants with my free hand. “Take your tit out.”

Savannah’s dazed eyes meet mine as she pulls the neckline of her shirt even lower and tugs the front of her bra down.

Then she offers herself to me.

Curling myself around her, I latch on to her nipple and suck it into my mouth.

She slides her hands through my hair, gripping the strands as she holds me in place.

My fingers find the edge of her panties, and as I drag my tongue across her pebbled peak, I tug the material over her slit to the side and plunge two fingers into her soaking heat.

We both moan.

The car comes to a stop again, and street noise filters in through the open window.

I pump my fingers. Then I drag them out. Slippery with her arousal. And I find her clit again.

She’s so primed.

So ready.

So fucking responsive.

I suck her nipple harder.

I circle her clit.

Again and again.

I moan against her flesh.

And I close my eyes as she tenses.

As she explodes.

As she cries out… for everyone to hear.