“No.”
“One drink.” I pout, holding up the bottle like it’s one of those fancy wines she likes, imported from France or wherever, and not nasty, cheap vodka that tastes like rubbing alcohol.
I bump her hip with mine and push inside the room. I drop down on the edge of the bed, take a drink, and then hold the bottle out for her.
“No, thank you.”
“You’re going to make me drink alone?”
“You had two nice girls willing to do whatever you wanted,why are you here?” she quips, albeit sassily, if I’m not mistaken.
My lip curves up. “Jealous?”
Her face twists in disgust, and the smirk melts right off my face. “No.”
“Well, you interrupted me, and it seemed like you had an attitude. It was awkward after that.” It was only awkward for me because I couldn’t stop picturing her.
“I did not have an attitude!” she seethes.
“It’s like you’re purposely sabotaging my hookups. If you don’t want me with someone else, just say that.”
Her mouth couldn’t get any wider if she tried. “That is not true!”
Jumping up,I get in her face, and she goes on the defensive, pressing just as much into my space, nostrils flaring. It looks like she wants to slap me.
My dick swells, rubbing against my zipper, enjoying this fight way too much. “They’re no fun,” I whisper, and she sucks in a surprised breath. “I’d rather jerk myself while I watch you play with your pretty pussy than stick my dick in any one of those lame-ass groupie chicks.”
“Jesus,” she stammers, inching back. “We…I?—”
I close the distance she just put between us. “One more time,” I plead, pulling her close. I drop my mouth to her neck, letting my breath fan across the sensitive spot where her shoulder and neck meet, but not putting my lips on her. “Please.”
Her head falls back, and she lets out a quiet moan. “No.”
My eyes lift to hers, but hers are closed tight. Her neck tilts, inviting me. Her chest is rising in sharp breaths, and the little moan is one I recognize. “Come on, May.”
My lips nibble across the top of her shoulder. Her hands grip my arms, squeezing before she shoves me away. “No, it’s against the rules.”
I level her with a look. “When have you ever followed the rules?”
“I’m trying it out.” She shrugs.
“It’s boring, isn’t it?”
“No.” I blink, and her shoulders cave. “You have to leave. If someone finds out you’re in here…”
“No one’s going to know. They think I’m with those girls.”
“And you should be.” She pushes me toward the door, but I dig my shoes into the carpet, refusing to budge.
“I don’t want them. They’re fucking boring.”
“Find someone else,” she grunts, using her whole body to try and move me.
“I only want you.” We both freeze. I didn’t mean to say it like that; it just slipped out. I meant I’m horny, and no one else is going to be as satisfying as her.
She steps back, eyeing me with wide eyes. I choose to ignore the strange expression on her face and drop to my knees. Gripping her hip with one hand, I drag her closer. “I’ll be such a good boy,” I say, glancing up at her, my mouth inches from her perfect pussy.
Her throat bobs with a swallow. She’s weakening, I can see it. I knew begging would do the trick.
