The Coffee Spill |Demi Lovato|

Chapter 65 *Sexual*

"Sorry we're late, somebody took forever to get ready," I say, glancing over at Demi. I catch Demi roll her eyes, but doesn't follow up with a witty remark. 

Matt hurries behind the bar, instantly making Demi and I a mixed drink before handing them to us with a grin. 

Demi's eyes scan Matt's backyard. "Matt, you didn't have to do all this. Renting a DJ, catering, and getting uh- vagina balloon." Demi says trying her best to stop herself from laughing. 

"It's not every day I get to throw a lesbian bachelorette party. Have fun, relax. The party's just started!" Matt says, flashing us both a secretive smirk. 

***

"Demi, get it!" I scream watching the volleyball splash into the water a foot in front of Demi. Matt and I groan in frustration as we watched Demi miss an easy set from my sister, Gracie. 

Gracie pats Demi on the shoulder encouragingly, while Matt and I stand in the back zone as Demi passes the ball to Marissa on the other side as she gets ready to serve it. 

With a powerful serve, the ball is over the net and onto our side. Gracie bumps it to Matt who bumps it back to Demi. Nervously and unsure of the rules, she lifts both arms up, lightly tapping it, setting it into the air in front of herself. She lifts her arms up, ready to hit it again when I maneuver through the water, jumping in front of her, spiking the ball over the net and into the water hard, tieing up the score.

I lean backward into Demi's arms as Demi, Matt, and Gracie cheer. I turn around, grabbing Demi by the waist. 

"Great teamwork," I say, capturing her bottom lip between mine in a passionate kiss. 

"You guys have the rest of your lives to do that, we have a game to win!" Matt proclaims over the DJ's music, causing us to break apart. 

"I forgot to tell you how amazing you look in that bathing suit." Demi compliments, taking her bottom lip between her teeth in a seductive grin. 

I feel my heartbeat increase as I watch Demi's eyes seductively look over my entire body, heat rushing to my core. Our Bachelorette party isn't the time nor place, Demetria. 

Demi and I return to our posts, watching as Matt serves the ball. 

***

Demi, Matt, Gracie, and I clink our shot glasses together before throwing them back. The losing team was required to take two shots of vodka without a chaser. Demi and Matt had no issues, but my sister and I gagged, the unaquired taste overpowering and strong. I place the empty shot glass on the bar, puckering my face as the liquor runs down my throat. 

The crackling of the wood in the firepit draws our attention while Demi clasps her hands together in joy. Something about the combination of s'mores and sitting around a fire pit at night brings Demi bliss. 

I grab her hand as we walk towards the firepit, taking the first two seats, right in the middle as everyone selects a remaining seat. Demi pushes her chair closer to mine before leaning her head on my chest, calmly watching the fire in front of us. 

Marissa and Dallas let out a playful gagging sound as they watch the two of us snuggle into each other. 

Demi and I tend to keep our PDA to a minimum, especially because of her career and the fact paparazzi never take a day off from injecting themselves into celebrities' lives. We'll share a quick peck on the lips or hold hands while walking or eating dinner. But prolonged kisses, ass grabbing or slapping, and cuddling are usually reserved for when it's just the two of us. All of our friends know of our unspoken rule, so whenever they see us radiating PDA, they like to point it out and make fun.