Chapter 2: and Switch
"Funny that you mention it," Hannah purred coyly.
"Because it's not the only thing I brought with me." She let the words hang in the air, watching the way his dark eyes flickered with curiosity.
Jamie set his wine glass down with deliberate slowness, his fingers lingering on the stem. "Oh yeah? And what else did you bring?"
Hannah leaned back in her chair, letting the candlelight play across her features. "Well, I figured since we were trying new things..." She trailed off, watching his expression shift from amused to intrigued.
Jamie's thumb brushed against the remote in his pocket again—just a flick, just enough to send another pulse through her. Hannah's breath hitched, but she kept her composure.
The vibration between her thighs was relentless now, a slow, insistent throb that made it hard to focus. She reached for her wine, her fingers brushing against the stem of the glass with deliberate slowness. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across Jamie’s face, highlighting the way his lips curled into a knowing smile.
"You’re enjoying this," she accused, her voice low and teasing.
Jamie shrugged, his thumb flicking the remote again—just a quick tap, just enough to make her gasp. "Maybe a little."
Hannah bit her lip, trying to suppress a moan.
The vibrator pulsed again, stronger this time, and she knew Jamie had just turned up the intensity. But she wasn’t going to let him win—not yet. She reached into her purse, her fingers brushing against the small black remote she’d tucked away before dinner. The one *she* had control of.
Hannah let the remote drop onto the table with a soft *click*, the vibration between her legs still humming beneath her dress. Then she reached into her purse again, her fingers curling around the sleek black box she’d tucked away earlier. She slid it across the table toward Jamie with deliberate slowness, watching as his eyes flicked down to it before snapping back up to hers.
"Put it on," she said, her voice low and firm, the kind of tone that left no room for argument. "Now."
Jamie’s smirk faltered for just a second—just long enough for her to know she’d caught him off guard. But then he reached for the box, his fingers brushing against hers as he took it, the contact sending another jolt of electricity through her. The remote in her hand buzzed in response, and she tightened her grip, her pulse quickening.
Jamie didn’t hesitate.
He flipped open the box with practiced ease, revealing the sleek, black device nestled inside. His fingers traced the edges of it, slow and deliberate, before he glanced up at her with a smirk.
*"You really did come prepared, didn’t you?"* His voice was low, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something excited.
Hannah leaned back in her chair, letting the candlelight play across her skin. *"I always do."*
The remote in his hand clicked again, and she felt a low, insistent pulse that made her thighs press together. She could feel the heat between them, the way her body was already responding to the game they were playing. And Jamie knew it.
With a slow, deliberate smirk, he pushed his chair back and stood, the remote still warm in his palm. *"I’ll be right back,"* he said, his voice low, his eyes locked on hers as he gave the remote one last, lingering press.
The vibration between Hannah’s thighs surged—*high*, relentless, a pulse so sharp it made her fingers dig into the tablecloth. The candlelight flickered as Jamie turned away, his broad shoulders cutting through the dim glow of the restaurant, leaving her breathless and trapped in the booth. The hum of the vibrator filled her ears, drowning out the distant clink of silverware and the murmur of other diners. She squeezed her thighs together, but it only made the sensation more intense, more *demanding*.
Her gaze followed Jamie as he disappeared down the narrow hallway toward the restrooms, the remote still clutched in his hand.
Her dress rode higher with each pulse of the vibrator, the silk slipping against her thighs as she shifted in her seat, trying to find some relief. But the sensation only intensified, the vibrations spreading through her in slow, deliberate waves.
The candlelight flickered across the table, casting long shadows that seemed to dance in time with the throbbing between her legs. Hannah bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. The cool crystal was a poor substitute for Jamie’s touch, but it was all she had to ground herself in this moment.
She could still hear the distant murmur of the restaurant—the clink of silverware, the low hum of conversation—but it all seemed muffled, distant. The only thing that mattered was the relentless pulse between her thighs, the way it made her breath catch and her pulse race.
Hannah’s fingers dug into the tablecloth as the vibrator hit that perfect rhythm, the one that always sent her over the edge, and she couldn’t stop it—didn’t want to. The orgasm crashed through her like a wave, sharp and overwhelming, and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out, her body tensing as pleasure rippled through her in slow, delicious pulses.
Her free hand clenched into a fist, her nails biting into her palm as she rode it out, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across the table, and for a moment, all she could focus on was the way her body hummed, the way the aftershocks of her climax made her thighs tremble.
Then, slowly, she became aware of the restaurant again—the distant clink of silverware, the low murmur of conversation.