“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She glared.
“Do I have to spell everything out for you? You said you weren’t a relationship guy. Apparently you are.”
I really wanted to keep making her jealous, but I felt on edge, buzzed, even though I was stone cold sober.
“Is this about Dolly?” I asked. “Are you jealous of her?”
“No,” Rosalie said evenly, crossing her arms. “Dolly can have you. I don’t want you.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, sending a wave of sexy scent into my nose. She always smelled like a Christmas tree you really wanted to fuck and I had a Pavlovian reaction to it.
“Stop,” I said irritably. “Fine, I’ll tell you the truth since you’re being such a brat about it. I’m up for a pretty big role in an upcoming Hosier biopic. And to get it, I need to convince these big studio execs that I’m not just a dirtbag fuckboy.”
“Good luck with that,” she said.
“I just need Dolly until I get this role. She’s good for my image.”
“How touching. You’re making me cry.”
Just then, Matt came out of his room. “Did you want to go see that graveyard?” he asked Rosalie. “I know you love to, like, walk around them and remember the people. Even though you didn’t even know them. Oh,” he added, seeing me. “Want to come, too?”
“No,” I bit out. “That sounds boring. I’ll be here when you get back.”
My shot failed on Rosalie, who only looked at me with cold eyes, the smoky gray stony and hard.
I didn’t need to go to graveyards with Rosalie to have her, I could have her whenever I wanted. And it wasn’t like Matt was a threat, Rosalie would never go for the nice guys.
She could go, have her fun, and she’d be begging to ride me when she got back.
That’s it.
Only I didn’t think I could hold out until she was begging.
I had a couple glasses of gin, and she still wasn’t back.
Dolly wandered out and asked if I wanted to go to some piano bar, but I refused. It would look good for the PR campaign, but I needed to be here when Rosalie got back.
Then I decided to give Ro something I knew she couldn’t resist, so I went into my bedroom and took a quick shower.
Slipping on my gray sweatpants, I lay back on the bed and pulled my dick out.
I was already hard thinking about Rosalie on her knees in front of me, or flipped around on the bed so I could spit into her asshole, or all wet and dripping in the shower. . .
I fisted my dick, seeing a bead of precum on the head.
Despite what my solid C- average in college might say about me, I wasn’t a total idiot. I knew I had a big hog. This picture was going to make her mouth water, and then she was going to come to my room rolling her eyes and pretending not to give a fuck. Then she’d fuck my brains out.
When I heard them come in, I texted her the pic.
Look what’s waiting for you
There was no response.
Brat!
It was late at night. I was horny. Her scent from earlier was still lingering in my nostrils, making more beads of precum drip down my cock. It was an angry red color, twitching as I could hear the two of them discussing reported ghost sightings at the graveyard.
