“Don’t do that.”
“Is there an ‘ever’ that goes with that, too?”
“Nah...this oneis just for now. I’m trying to see something.”
Her sweat coats my hand. “See what?”
“All of you. Since I’m the dude that gives you those nasty hives.” I swallow. “They’re even on my favorite places—your neck, your stomach... right there in the middle of your left thigh.”
She squirms.
“We missing one though.” I squeeze her hand and drop it on her right breast. “I want one right here. Can I have that?”
The way her red skin rises beneath our fingers and prickles to the surface is like magic. A tiny gasp escapes her lips and one fights to escape mine because I’ve done some shit to women but never anything likethis.
“That’s perfect.”
“What you mean, it’s perfect?” she mutters, looking down at our intertwined hands. “They won’t stop popping up.”
“That’s the perfect thing about them.” I pull my hand from hers. “Now stop pouting and tell me something good.”
Her eyes dart to the glass of tequila and then around my bedroom like she’s taking me and my space in all over again. As soon as my back touches the foot of the bed, she chokes out the words, “I—I think I wanna taste you again.”
All the pet names, praises, and filthy words I want to hurl her way get caught in the back of my throat because for the first time I realize how long it’s been since I had a woman propped in front of me and begging. Even if Phat’s begging is basic, it still makes my dick stiffer than I ever imagined it could get, so my brain stops and my dick takes over.
The music pulsing through the speakers gets louder and I know it’s Cree nudging Phat. She’s trying to bridge the gap between me and her so she can catch a red eye to Javier in Vegas.
My dick tells me it’s now or never and I don’t have time to get onto Phat forthinkingaround me before my middle and ring finger dive into the tequila.
“Open your mouth,” I rasp.
And she does because it’s been too many days since she had my taste in her mouth—five, according to her last subtweet before she came home.
@babphat04 1d
Finally going home after five long ass days. Sheesh.
I shove my fingers past her lips.
They’re too big for her mouth and too calloused for her tongue, but she’s happy they’re that way. I see it in her drooping shoulders as she sucks the tequila off them.
As soon as her eyes sag, there’s a soft tap against the bedroom door that makes them spring open, but a gentle slap against the welt on her left thigh makes them fall again.
“Chill...” I mutter. “You been talking about home all week, so enjoy it.”
“Ace…” Cree calls out. “Uncle Ason keeps calling.”
She doesn’t wait around for me to reply and as soon as her heels patter away from the door; I push my digits farther into Phat’s mouth than I should. Her molars dig into the side of my fingers and her tonsils tickle the tips of them.
I swallow at the same time she chokes.
“Act right for Cree,” I mutter while her eyes light up. “If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll give Twitter back.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
Lourdes
There’s something wrong.
