🆅🅴🅻🆅🅴🆃// 🅂🄿🄴🄽🄲🄴🅁 🅁🄴🄸🄳

♥ 30 ♥

We get to the restaurant, and the small silicone object wedged between my legs seems to start up. Like a good girl, I look at Spencer, and without missing a beat, he is burning fire into my soul. He knows what he's doing, and by the time we sit down, I'm squirming more than ever. I try not to showcase it to the person I have recently called my brother, but I believe it's pronounced what is going on. If Spencer had it his way, he'd be making me scream for the whole restaurant to hear. I feel the vibration go up another setting, harder and harder pressed in between my legs. I look at him, biting my lip. It's Wyatt who breaks the silence:

"Do you know what's good here?" He nods to Spence and me, gesturing to the menu. I glance over it, my eyes getting glossier by the minute from Spencer pulling me to my edge.

"Anything, really." I give a small sigh, stifling a moan.

"Well I think I'm going to get the Chicken Francaise with extra rice." Spencer says nonchalantly. I give a low growl at him, and he smirks.

"Well I plan on trying the Avgolemono soup." Wyatt adds. I keep my eyes on Spencer for the rest of the time that Wyatt rambles about never being in a restaurant and adds to that, saying that it's so weird that his sister likes Greek food. He never imagined having a sister, let alone a sister who likes Greek food. I have only known him for a few hours, give or take, and he's already on my nerves and talking way too much than I know Spencer likes.

"Soph, what sounds good?" Spencer cuts Wyatt off during his little rant. His hand moves from the table and down to my thigh. Running his right middle finger in circles, he moves it up higher, now being able to have his thumb reach the tip of the vibrator. He presses it, making it go further inside me. And the vibration feels harsher than before. I look at him, literally a pool at his fingertips.

He gets real close to my ear, and thank god Wyatt isn't paying attention when he says softly, "I'm going to make you come so much tonight that you'll be a drought and then I'll just do it all over again." Right on cue...

I clear my throat, "Uhm, Mediterranean pasta sounds delightful."

"Don't worry about dessert, darling, once your brother leaves, you'll have your share." He turns the vibrator off with the button on the end with his thumb. I have a reprieve.

I really get to know Wyatt through the dinner now that I'm not getting hounded by Spencer's evil ways.

His favorite color is orange, but a soft orange, like yellow-orange. His favorite movie is Rain Man with Tom Cruise but he doesn't like the actor himself. We talk about books and his favorite at the moment is Little Girls in Pretty Boxes by Joan Ryan. And he has very controversial thoughts and opinions about Donatello and Saint George.

"It's just a simple as this, if you want to sculpt something and associate it with the word 'saint' and 'George', you are really saying that every person in the whole world especially psychos-" He points to Spencer, "named George are going to think they are the saint Donatello was meaning." His thinking behind it confused the hell out of me but Spencer nodded along like he was saying all the right things.

"You know, an average 30 year old man sits at about 176.1 centimeters and Saint George runs about 214 centimeters, so if Donatello was scaling correctly or based upon fact and reality, the Saint George, you wholeheartedly despise, is about as tall as you." Spencer taps the glass of his drink and stares into what seems to be Wyatt's soul.

"Yeah, so?"

"So, all I'm saying is that you talk big game about hating the piece for it bringing what you may call Unearthly thoughts to men named George, whereas, you may not be named George, but those same thoughts will come just because you are close in height." He leans back in his seat and takes a sip of his drink. Wyatt gets up and stares me down.