And I’m not sure anything can stop me from having her tonight.
ChapterThree
PENNY
Booze.
I need more booze.
All of the booze.
Pretend my mouth is the base of a waterfall and just tip all of the liquor right down the gullet because, oh my GOD, Eli Hornsby is causing me to turn all different shades of red.
Not to mention sweat. He is making me sweat down my freaking back.
Yeah, I know, sweating isn’t the least bit attractive and no one wants to hear about it. But I’m more than glistening at this point, and it’s all because the extremely gorgeous man sitting next to me decided to nip my earlobe.
Have you ever felt a tsunami of arousal take over your body in one giant, consuming wave?
Well, I have, and it was the moment Eli decided to pull my earlobe between his teeth. My freaking earlobe, ladies. I don’t think earlobes are the least bit sexy. They’re dangling skin bits attached to your head. It’s a good thing someone thought to pierce them because they need a little something to make them not so freaky. But yes, here I am, panting and sweating like a freaking hockey player after three periods on the ice from one little nip.
A brief nibble.
It’s not like he stuck his tongue in my ear—which by the way, yuck—nor did he suck on my ear or make out with it. His teeth made a brief pass, and before I could register what was happening, he was back in place, sipping his beer.
Yet it was life-altering.
I can still feel it, his teeth on my ear. I can still sense his hand on my inner thigh, his thumb caressing my skin, dragging, teasing . . .
And that provocative voice of his, I can still hear it ringing through my ears, telling me all the dirty things he wants to do to me.
He wants to see my boobs bounce in his face? What on earth?
My . . . *gulp* pussy pulse against his length. I never in my life have heard such a sinister sentence.
That’s why I need the booze. Because I’m a bundle of nerves about to either curl into a ball of anxiety or legit pull my boob from my dress and lay it on the table as an appetizer for the voraciously hungry man sitting next to me.
Boob for the taking. Preferably to be used as a sucking device.
DO YOU SEE WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT?
I’ve completely lost it.
“Did you get this dress for tonight?” His hand that’s resting on the back of my chair slowly drags over the hot pink fabric. When his finger toys with the zipper on the back, my intake of breath nearly startles me right off my stool.
“No,” I squeak. “I had it but have never worn it. I always thought it was too slutty for work even paired with a blazer, but thought it would be cute for a date. It was an impulse purchase. It was on sale, and I like the color, and I thought it would show off my short legs, which it does because it likes to ride up my thighs while I walk. It didn’t do that in the mirror, but I wasn’t walking either. I was just standing there checking myself out. So a very misleading dress if you ask me. But to answer your question, bringing this full circle, this scrap of fabric on my body was not purchased for tonight.”
He brushes my hair off my shoulder, his fingers dragging along my skin, burning me, branding me.
Is this his way of seduction?
Is that what’s happening?
I mean, he did say he wanted me to be his present tonight, so is that what’s happening? If so, it’s working.
My body is thrumming, urging me to ask for more.
“Well, I’m glad you saved it for tonight. It looks fucking hot on you.”
