“I’m so sorry about that.”
I squint at her. “Is that the kind of shit you do to her?”
She looks guilty. “Um.”
“So that’s a yes.” I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her all the way in so she’s tucked snuggly between my legs, the small amount of alcohol in my system making me a bit less inhibited than I’d normally be with a pretty girl like Hannah.
“Turnabout is fair play,” I tell her, nuzzling the space between her breasts.
“Don’t remind me, if she’s going to keep doing shit like that, it’ll give me a stroke.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
Hannah shrugs above me. “Drama is my middle name.” Her fingers take the opportunity to bury themselves in my hair, burrowing against my scalp, massaging. Feels so fucking good, I move my head around, groaning.
“I thought your middle name was Banana,” I give the exposed skin at her collar a nip.
“Wow. You’re a funny guy,” she lets her head roll to the side, giving me more room to suck a bit without leaving a mark. “Careful, no hickey.”
“You want me to do more than suck on your neck?” I ask her, my hands now burrowing down the back of her tight pants.
“That depends. Are you planning on calling me in the morning?”
“Why wouldn’t I call you?”
“Because that’s what guys do—they take what they want, then conveniently forget to call.”
Hmm. Yeah, that sounds about right. And if she’d have met me a year ago or two—that’s exactly what I would have done. Conveniently forgotten to call. Ghosted her. Let her think she did something wrong.
But that was before I was handed my ass by Coach Donnelly. Before I befriended his daughter. Before I became a Funcle.
I would beat any douchebag’s ass who treated Lilly the way I used to treat women.
Disposable.
Like a diversion.
“I can’t convince you of something you’ve already made up your mind about, so you’ll just have to see for yourself.”
Above me, Hannah nods. “Alright. Okay. Then yes, I want to see what else you suck at.”
“Starting where?” The alcohol gives me courage to ask, already working down the waistband of her athletic leggings.
They’re tight from the hips down to the ankle and damn near impossible to get off. Hannah laughs when I struggle, taking pity by bending at the waist and pulling them off herself.
Soon, she’s standing in nothing but her dark gray top, a black thong, quirky little smile suddenly…shy?
Hannah? Shy?
I smirk, cupping her ass in my big hands—they fit perfectly, but before I can caress her butt, Hannah shoves me down onto the mattress, flat on my back.
Okay, maybe not so shy after all.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be the one on your back, not me,” I tell her, raising my head.
“You’re a slow poke,” she crawls up me, her bare bottom brushing against my jeans.
“You need to learn patience.”
“Teach it to me then.” She’s giving me lip and I’ve watched enough wrestling to know how the next scene goes. Without missing a beat, I buckshot her elbow off my ribcage so she’s caught off guard, then use the momentum gained to flip her onto her back.
Gain the upper hand.
“Now who’s in charge, bossy little thing.” I kiss her on the mouth as she stares, wide eyed.
“That…was…so…sexy,” Hannah breaths up at me, eyes sparkling. Pupils dilated. Lips parted, breathing heavily, chest—breasts—heaving. Heaving breasts? What am I? An eighty-year-old describing tits?
Her head is facing the wrong way—we’re laying across the bed instead of in it—so I shift our bodies. Suck on her neck, nuzzling the column below her ear, working my way down her body. Kissing her breasts over the fabric of her shirt. Lift the hem of it, so I can kiss her stomach.
She watches me, raising her head. “What are you doing?”
Please. As if. “You know exactly what I’m doing.”
“But…”
“Don’t you want me to?”
“I don’t know if…”
I stop, resting on my haunches. Waiting. “It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable, Hannah, just say so.”
“I do feel comfortable. It’s just that…no one has made me. You know.”
“Come?”
“Yeah.”
“Has anyone gone down on you before?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is tentative. “Once. Barely?”
“Wait. What?” How is that possible. “How many guys have you gone out with?”
“I don’t know. Enough.”
“Fucking idiots.” My fingers toy with the waistband of her black thong.
Her breath hitches a second time. “Why do you say that?”
“You’re gorgeous and you smell…” I lean down and give her a whiff, “Ahfuckingmazing.” I lick her neck, too, and Hannah giggles.
“That tickles.”
“Oh yeah? What else tickles?”
Her lips get clamped shut. “Nothing.”
I move my forefinger up and down her ribcage, over her gray shirt.
Hannah’s head gives a little shake. “Nope.”
“Figures you of all people wouldn’t be easy.”
“No one has ever called me easy. Mostly they called me a beast. Or a monster,” she laughs, eyes lighting up.
“Accurate.” I cover her mouth with mine and our tongues automatically tangle. “You beast.”
My beast, I silently add, grinding my lower body against her.
“Take off your pants,” she demands in a whiney tone.
“This isn’t about me.” My plan is to go down on her, but her lips and tongue and mouth taste so fucking good, I can’t stop kissing her.
“Yes it is. Take off your pants,” she says again, reaching between our bodies and searching for the button on my jeans. When she finds it, she struggles to unbutton it, leaving me really no choice, but to pitch in and help out.
I know, I know—what a gentlemanly thing to do.
Magnanimous, even.
Together, we work my pants down my hips until I’m able to kick them onto the floor in a heap. Then, Hannah’s soft hands are working on the buttons of my shirt, working to slide it off my shoulders.
“Let’s get this gone, too, m’kay?”
“M’kay,” I dumbly agree, shucking my shirt.
She struggles, but removes her too. “Now we’re both almost naked. Whatcha gonna do about it?”
Wow. Is she challenging me?
The shithead.
The beautiful, gorgeous shithead.
God she feels good, mostly naked beneath me, wiggling around, our pelvises, dick, and pussy rubbing together in all the right ways.
Speaking of pussies…
“What am I gonna do about it?” I parrot her again, moving down her body, planting a kiss between the valley of her breasts, inhaling the sweet smell of her. “You’re going to lay there while I eat you out and you’re going to let me and you’re going to like it.”
“Ohh...kay,” comes her reply. A gasp when I kiss the smooth skin below her belly button. Press my mouth against the mound between her thighs, warm breath heating her pussy. I already know I’m going to love every wet, hot, second of it. Especially when she squirms, anticipation making her impatient.