she catches my lips. I almost gasp when her tongue slips into my mouth.
Fuck me.
I grab her waist and pull her onto my lap, not caring about anything else than this woman making my dick so hard that it’s painful. She smoothes her palms over my chest and bites my lip, and I groan into her mouth. Both of our bodies are blazing hot and I want to tear her dress from her body, and run my tongue over her every curve. Goddamn.
We break apart and Marisa seems to be fighting with my shirt. She wants to shove her hands underneath. I take her hands in mine and laugh softly, kissing her cheek.
“You’re coming home with me,” I whisper in her ear.
Her body vibrates with a delicious shiver and her eyes slide to mine sluggishly. “I—I don’t know.”
She’s coming home with me.
I slap a handful of cash on the bar counter and slide off the stool with her. Immediately, she looks around for her friends and waves to them. “Bye!”
After they wave back, we head towards the exit. I hold open the door for her and she totters outside, nearly stumbling on her heels.
She’s way too drunk. Well, fuck. There goes my plans.
Marisa turns around with her arms outstretched, smiling at me in a naughty, come-fuck-mevibe as she tries to walk backwards.
“Where’s your car?” I ask her.
Marisa shakes her head and clings to my side as I wrap an arm around her. “Came on the subway.”
“I’ll take you home.”
“I thought we were going to your place?”
My cock stiffens in my pants and I squeeze her side. “You’re wasted. It’s not going to happen.”
We walk slowly to the metro. She gives me a frustrated sigh. “Oh, please. Spare me your gentlemanly crap. Aren’t you supposed to take advantage of me?”
My chest shakes with laughter. “I told you that I’m a good guy.”
Marisa turns her blonde head to look at me thoughtfully. “You keep saying that.”
“Maybe because it’s true,” I say with a bit of an edge in my voice.
She stops in the street and turns in my arms, staring up at me with wide eyes. “No, it’s not. None of us are good. What I’m doing could get me locked up for a long time.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I’ve always looked at it as a consequence of the business. Yeah, I won’t lie to her, that’s a possibility. It happens.
But for a person who has lived straightedge their whole life—to be thrust into a life of crime, that must be overwhelming. Her whole body screams it. Her bottom lip shakes as she stares up at me, waiting for—what?
“You’re just trying to survive, hon. We’re all trying to survive.”
Me especially.
“That doesn’t make you a bad person, does it?” I trace the edge of her bottom lip and she blinks rapidly and looks away.
“I’m so confused. My whole world’s been turned upside down.”
I felt like that when my sister died. Shit, I remember that she’s still trying to deal with her dad’s death. I take her hand in mine as she looks at me with a horrible, lost expression. I cup her cheek with my other hand.
“It’s best to keep moving.”
My hand drops from her face and I tug her hand, walking down the steps to the subway with her. We slide into the plastic seats and her head falls on my shoulder, her blonde hair spilling all over my jacket. I look at our reflection in the glass across me, and a strange feeling runs through me. It’s like seeing a ghost.
When we get to my car, she curls up in the passenger seat like a cat. It’s a pleasant, quiet drive, and every so often I glance at her darkened silhouette and wonder.
She’s still drunk when I walk her to her apartment, and she turns around with a determined air when we reach her door. Her small hands grab my tie again, but I hardly need any prompting to kiss her. Electricity shoots up my spine, when her soft lips brush against mine. My heart races and I can’t stop myself from exploring her body with my hands. The tightness of her black dress leaves little to the imagination and
Fuck me.
I grab her waist and pull her onto my lap, not caring about anything else than this woman making my dick so hard that it’s painful. She smoothes her palms over my chest and bites my lip, and I groan into her mouth. Both of our bodies are blazing hot and I want to tear her dress from her body, and run my tongue over her every curve. Goddamn.
We break apart and Marisa seems to be fighting with my shirt. She wants to shove her hands underneath. I take her hands in mine and laugh softly, kissing her cheek.
“You’re coming home with me,” I whisper in her ear.
Her body vibrates with a delicious shiver and her eyes slide to mine sluggishly. “I—I don’t know.”
She’s coming home with me.
I slap a handful of cash on the bar counter and slide off the stool with her. Immediately, she looks around for her friends and waves to them. “Bye!”
After they wave back, we head towards the exit. I hold open the door for her and she totters outside, nearly stumbling on her heels.
She’s way too drunk. Well, fuck. There goes my plans.
Marisa turns around with her arms outstretched, smiling at me in a naughty, come-fuck-mevibe as she tries to walk backwards.
“Where’s your car?” I ask her.
Marisa shakes her head and clings to my side as I wrap an arm around her. “Came on the subway.”
“I’ll take you home.”
“I thought we were going to your place?”
My cock stiffens in my pants and I squeeze her side. “You’re wasted. It’s not going to happen.”
We walk slowly to the metro. She gives me a frustrated sigh. “Oh, please. Spare me your gentlemanly crap. Aren’t you supposed to take advantage of me?”
My chest shakes with laughter. “I told you that I’m a good guy.”
Marisa turns her blonde head to look at me thoughtfully. “You keep saying that.”
“Maybe because it’s true,” I say with a bit of an edge in my voice.
She stops in the street and turns in my arms, staring up at me with wide eyes. “No, it’s not. None of us are good. What I’m doing could get me locked up for a long time.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I’ve always looked at it as a consequence of the business. Yeah, I won’t lie to her, that’s a possibility. It happens.
But for a person who has lived straightedge their whole life—to be thrust into a life of crime, that must be overwhelming. Her whole body screams it. Her bottom lip shakes as she stares up at me, waiting for—what?
“You’re just trying to survive, hon. We’re all trying to survive.”
Me especially.
“That doesn’t make you a bad person, does it?” I trace the edge of her bottom lip and she blinks rapidly and looks away.
“I’m so confused. My whole world’s been turned upside down.”
I felt like that when my sister died. Shit, I remember that she’s still trying to deal with her dad’s death. I take her hand in mine as she looks at me with a horrible, lost expression. I cup her cheek with my other hand.
“It’s best to keep moving.”
My hand drops from her face and I tug her hand, walking down the steps to the subway with her. We slide into the plastic seats and her head falls on my shoulder, her blonde hair spilling all over my jacket. I look at our reflection in the glass across me, and a strange feeling runs through me. It’s like seeing a ghost.
When we get to my car, she curls up in the passenger seat like a cat. It’s a pleasant, quiet drive, and every so often I glance at her darkened silhouette and wonder.
She’s still drunk when I walk her to her apartment, and she turns around with a determined air when we reach her door. Her small hands grab my tie again, but I hardly need any prompting to kiss her. Electricity shoots up my spine, when her soft lips brush against mine. My heart races and I can’t stop myself from exploring her body with my hands. The tightness of her black dress leaves little to the imagination and
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