HIM.
God, she smelled like rosewater.
Turning off the shower water, I pushed open the curtains and stepped out of her tub that was a little too small for me. The shower head was basically spitting water at my chest, so that made for some fun having to bend down in order to wash my hair. Even her soaps and shampoos from her childhood home smelled like her. That goddamn rosewater. I groan, drying off my body with one of her towels before grabbing another and wrapping it around my waist.
I blanch at the girly flower pattern hugging my lower half, stopping mid thigh. It's like everything is toy-sized in here. Her petite shower, and the towels that are about a square of fabric bigger than a washcloth, her small vanity, the mirror showing my chest - not my face, and maybe it's just me being dramatic, but I swear if I had to piss I'd have to squat. No man's aim is that good.
Overall it's cute. And it's like her. Not baseball playing Carter. This seems like what cute little Raine would've loved back then. Everything just screamed inner her, not that tough persona she puts on in front of the guys. Bending down in the mirror a little, I blushed a bit seeing how ridiculous I looked, and my cheeks only got more red when I realized I didn't have spare clothes. I left all my shit with Hunter.
Fuck.
My eyes drift over her counter, and my lips pull up into a shy grin as I take in all that's her. Wow, she's such a freak. I eye it, the freaking metal dildo with some bedazzle glam shit on the bottom. I arch a brow, reaching out and letting my finger glide over it, imagining just how many times that had been inside her. How long has it had the privilege to feel her smooth, inner paradise. Lucky dick.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I brush my thumb over the bruise that you can't even tell is there anymore. I hit my head hard that day, but that was nothing in comparison of what Carter's eye looked like. I grimace. She looked hella tough the day after, and I can't lie and say it didn't turn me the fuck on. She hides it well though, covering it with makeup, but I see her at night when I'm occasionally looking at her for a moment too long. It's dark, but it's a smaller bruise now, on her cheekbone where I would assume my knee did the most damage.
Sometimes I've brushed my thumb over it while she was sleeping, mumbling apologies. Sometimes I battled with myself and let my spiteful side take over. A part of me felt no remorse because she deserved it after ruining my career, but a bigger - much bigger - part of me felt horrible because I think back to that moment where she broke down because she felt like she looked less than gorgeous.
I meant it when I called her beautiful.
She is, absolute perfection. Hand crafted by God and brought down to torture everything with a Y chromosome. I don't know why I decided to be a dick, I guess I'm just programmed that way. I had to tease her a bit. I didn't actually know she was hellbent on figuring out if I had damaged her image or not. Running my fingers through my hair, I stood up y'all and prepared myself to get taunted by her since I was in this stupid pink towel of hers, but exiting the bathroom, I wasn't exactly expecting to see a big motherfucker leaning against her door with his arms crossed over his chest.
Whatever she was saying didn't matter anymore because she gasped when her eyes flickered over to me, and she blushed. Isn't that cute. I bite my lip to keep from smiling at her shyness. This girl has seen all of me, yet she blushes, seeing me in a towel. She clears her throat, "Uh..."
The big motherfucker just looks at me as if I was a target of his. He was big, but I was sure I'd be able to stand a chance against him if he were to try to rush me. I got him by an inch or three, but he seems to be my weight, if not bigger. Weight always looks heavier on shorter people. I glance at Carter, looking at her thighs that are now exposed because she took off her uniform, and is left in black spandex and a t-shirt. The big guy tears my attention away from the legs that's brought me to a semi.
"Dean."
"Right," I mumble, "My clothes donor." Carter snorts. "Carson," I hold my hand out to shake his, and he grabs my hand tightly, giving me a shake to assert himself. I cough back a laugh. "You don't have to intimidate me, buddy. The thick veins on you tell me not to fuck with you."
He cracked a smile, "You're not like the others my sister's dated."
I decided not to comment on the fact that we aren't dating, and the look that Carter gave me for that made me regret my decision. "Meaning?"
He doesn't answer. Instead, he pushes off of her door, saluting her, before walking away. "Lemme holla at you."
"Is he talking to me?" I ask Carter, who was giving me a smug look.
"I believe so, flower power. He wouldn't dare talk to me like that." She grins before patting me on the chest, and shutting the bathroom door after brushing past me, her little fingers teasing me into something a bit harder than a semi. I groan just as she reopened the door, and smacked my butt. "Nice ass! Glad I can say I tapped that."
The door slam shuts again.
Sighing, I exit her room like a cheap whore in nothing but a towel, searching after her big motherfucker of a brother with equally as dark curly hair as she has, but green eyes instead of hazel
|||
I was introduced to another guy, that was less intimidating than Dean was trying to be. In fact, he greeted me with a hug. "I'm Damian, brother number 2," he had established himself as. What I thought was going to be an interrogation turned out to be as cool as a day at Ryker's house when we were in high school. They were teaching me, I realized, the ways of the Carter family.
No men were allowed other than the men of the family, and apparently, I've been the only exception to that rule. I guess Carter's mother was right in being suspicious of her daughter being a lesbian, since all she brought home were females. While I was occupied in Carter's room, her brothers all apparently had a meeting before deciding that I didn't seem like much of a threat, considering how I had gotten her dad's approval, but they still needed a talk with me to see where my head was.
Not that I blame them. My sisters would be the first to talk to Carter about everything up under the sun, poking and prodding her to see how the cogs in her head turned - wondering how the hell she managed to come home with me. Like Carter, I've never brought someone of the opposite sex home with me. It's only ever been Ryker, Hunter, or some other guys from the baseball teams that I've been a part of.
I learned that Dean, the biggest one, was twenty nine, and that Dante and Ryelle (Carter's parents) had their first child (Dean) at the age of 15, making her mother 43 years old. No fucking wonder she's fine as hell. She's still ripe. Apparently, her mother was less strict than Dante's, so when she had her first baby, her mother took not only the baby, but Dante into their household to help raise them all. With that, they never stopped having children. I guess they always knew that they were going to be it for each other, so why not have more kids?
About 5 weeks after having Dean, Ryelle was pregnant with Damian. They are eleven months apart, so Damian is twenty eight. All of the kids after those two have cool stories in which they were conceived. Dakota was created during summer school when Dante snuck in to surprise Ryelle on their anniversary for being together for three years. Deon was conceived during their prom a few months after Dakota was born. They are 10 months apart from each other at ages twenty-seven and twenty-six.
They waited about a few more months before getting pregnant with the twins, Dempsey and Dayson during some wild escapade in the bathroom of a club. They are twenty five years old. Then, they waited about a year and some to end up having Dallas, after Ryelle complained about wanting a girl...he is in fact a male, at twenty three years old.
Ryelle and Dante decided to adopt Micah, the child of Ryelle's best friends that had died in a freak skiing accident. Instead of just caring for him, they decided to adopt him into their already big family. He was nineteen at the time, but now he's twenty four.
Then last, but not least because she was the first and only girl that Ryelle carried, Raine Iris Carter was born. She's twenty one. So that's everyone in the Carter family. There were way too many names to keep up with, so I'll leave the pointing out and describing the looks of them all. Just know that they all look extremely similar to each other...because they're siblings. Even Micah looks like the Carter kids, though his skin tone is slightly darker.
"So what's up with you and Raine?"
"Huh?" I didn't hear anything he and his brother had been talking about because I was too busy processing everything that just happened. It seems like a lot happened, but also nothing at all.
"You and my sister. What's up? You dating her or somethin'?" Damian waits for my response, his bright eyes making me a little uneasy. Do I be straight up and tell them that I'm fucking her? Or do I just go with the 'we're just friends' approach? I mean, Carter and I have never really had a point in time when we were friends, and I did say I was going to make an effort not to fuck her. I can be cordial with her.
I go against my natural instincts and turn pussy. "Nah, we're just cool." We hold eye contact - I guess he was trying to make sure I wasn't bullshitting him, but I have perfect control over keeping my lies hidden from my eyes. I didn't want to go through this 'what are your intentions with my sister' conversation, so I moved it to something a little more urgently as I glanced at the old fashioned alarm sitting on a dresser. We didn't have a whole lot of time to sit around and get to know each other, and quite frankly, I was bored as hell.
For once in my life, I actually sought Carter's company.
Not even to have sex.
"So is it cool if I borrow some clothes? I mean I'd walk out butt naked if I wouldn't get a fine for public nudity." I look down at my thighs, damn near scared of the tip of my dick being visible with the slightest shift in the way I was sitting.
"Yeah, sorry man." Dean gets up, going toward his closet before throwing me a white t-shirt and cargo shorts: A real country boy's outfit. I cursed lowly as I remembered the only shoes I had in my truck were those goddamn timberlands I haven't worn in years. I haven't dressed like this since I lived in Apalachicola, Florida.
And going commando is what it's going to be. "Thanks. Look, it was nice meeting y'all, really, I wish I could stay longer, but we have a game tomorrow and I'm fucking starving."
They both dapped me up before I could finally leave the room. I closed my eyes and sighed, leaning against the wall in the hallway before jumping out of my damn skin when I heard Carter's voice. "Wow, did I really just scare you?" She muses when I opened one eye, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
"No," I lied, losing the insult I was going to throw at her when I looked down her body. Well fuck. I closed my eyes again.
Don't fuck her.
"What was that?" Her eyebrows raised on her head, causing me to reopen my eyes. Did I really say that out loud?
"Nothing." I clench my jaw. What the hell is wrong with me? Compliment her, don't be a dick. "You uh," my eyes flicker down her hot body again before finding her brown eyes that were not pleased with me at all. "You look gorgeous."
"Come to my room so you can get dressed." She fully dismisses me, walking off toward her room, expecting me to follow like a puppy. I recalculate what I said before wondering where I went wrong in that compliment. "Now, before my mother walks up," she snaps, further confusing me.
I follow anyway, walking in, and ignoring the way she slams the door shut. I throw the towel onto her bed, looking over my shoulder when I heard a sharp inhale. "Vinny texted me," she quickly starts talking to cover up the fact that she was gawking over me. "We're actually in a hotel."
"Cool." I yank up the shorts that give me enough room to breathe, but fit around my waist so I don't show my ass if the shirt rises.
"I like your tattoos," she comments. "You're big on your family," she mumbled as more of a realization on her part. It was true. Most of my tattoos had family ties to them. My family built me, and I brand them to me so that they're everywhere I am. Whether I'm in Florida, Alabama, or something like Australia, they're there. "When did you start getting them?"
"Eighteen." I pull the shirt over my head, it fits a little more snug than expected. She giggled when I turned around, allowing her to see my front now that I wasn't exposed.
"You look like my cousins," she snorts, something that made my stomach feel weird. I brushed it off. Something I ate, maybe.
"Shut the fuck up." I grit my teeth. "You got some slides or something?" We both look down at my bare feet. There was no way in fuck I was going to step outside on that hot concrete without shoes on.
"You're such a priss." She rolls her eyes before digging into one of her drawers and tossing a pair of socks to me that were rolled up to make a ball. "Let's go. My stomach is going to jump out and eat you."
"Alright." I put on the socks, not even questioning why she had men's socks in her drawer. Lord knows what Carter does in her free time. "But if we leave, please promise me we won't come back ever again."
She rolled her eyes again, then grabbed my hand and led me out of her room, and down the steps very quickly. We said goodbyes to her parents, and I kissed her mom and best friend on the cheek. When we reached outside, I breathed out a nervous breath I didn't even know I had in me. "What did my brothers do? Fondle you?"
"Ha ha," I open the front door, and lean over the seat to find my shoes that I put underneath the passenger side seat a long time ago. Carter decides to smack my butt before saying 'what the heck' and reaching into my shorts to grab my ass cheek. I flinched, hitting my head on the ceiling. "Fuck, Carter!" I rub my head when I landed back in my seat, throwing my shoes on the floor, and shoving my feet into them.
She was laughing at me. "Has no one ever grabbed your ass?"
"No," I pouted, cranking up the car. She all but gaped at me, her big eyes even bigger as she took in this information that was apparently a big deal for her.
"No?" She repeated, dumbfounded. "Not even in bed?"
"No."
I could've sworn I heard her say 'we need to fix that'.
I backed up the truck before pulling onto the road, starting the drive to this diner. I was damn near ready to just order for takeout because all I want right now is pussy and a napping, but I guess since I'm going to try and be nice to Carter, I won't get any puss tonight. Let's just hope I don't push her out of the truck before we get to the hotel.
|||
Carter is actually cool as fuck.
I know, I can't believe I'm saying it either. "You did what?" I nearly spat out my beer, hearing the words leave her mouth. Her laughter, Jesus, her laughter opened my eyes to just how adorable she was when she laughed. Her mouth was split into a gorgeous smile as her tone went from low and smooth to loud and hysterical - it was infectious.
"I-" she breathed to gather herself before covering her face from me with her pretty little hands. She was blushing. "I didn't think he was going to try and go for it. I had too much to drink, I was drunk as hell, he cracked a joke before spreading my legs and my bladder said 'gotcha bitch'."
She groaned, reflecting back on the memory before mumbling, "His poor face." I took the last bite of my burger before dipping one of my fries in her barbecue sauce.
"Remind me not to go down on you after you've been drinking." I eat the fry, watching as her lips pull up into a smirk.
"No promises," she shrugs. "I might just..." she takes the straw out of her water cup, her index finger covering the top of it before she let some water pour out and flicked the rest on me while she made a whoosh sound.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "So your body count is what? Three?"
She shakes her head, correcting me, "Four, including you."
"Mmm," I eat another fry after dipping it in her sauce.
"What's the 'mmm' for?" She cocks her head to the side, her eyes looking up at me innocently. "Too many for your liking?"
"Nah," I shake my head. "Four isn't bad in my opinion, and I can't judge you when I've been around the block and back."
"True," she drinks the rest of the water in her glass before taking a fry from my basket. I had ordered two baskets full for myself, and was struggling to finish them the second one. I'm glad her appetite can compete with mine. She dipped the fry in the barbecue sauce we were now sharing, and brought it up to her mouth, only for some sauce to drop on her chest. I bit my tongue to keep from making a remark as she quickly wiped it up with her finger before licking it off.
My cock stirred.
I let my eyes travel before remembering the rest of her outfit that I couldn't see now since she was on the other side of the table. She looked really good tonight...beautiful. Her hair was down, a smile basically plastered on her face the whole time we've been here, and I was learning so much about her in such a short time. She was so carefree. She said what she said without offending anyone, but staying true to her thoughts and beliefs. She wasn't judgmental. She listened. She expressed interest. And could relate to just about anything I said.
I narrowed my eyes at her. She seemed too good in this moment, nothing like how I perceived her when that day happened. I subconsciously rub my leg as my brain registered the memory before pushing it back to the back of my mind.
"You look really pretty, Carter." I tried again with the compliment thing, a lot more timid than I was when I first said it back at her house, but I still got the same dismissal. I could've cursed, I was so frustrated. "You don't take compliments well, do you?"
"I don't when I feel that they aren't sincere." She said rather bluntly, surprising me.
"I'm being sincere." My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to figure her out.
Again, she ignored me. "I heard you earlier, you know, at my house." She dipped another fry as she contemplated continuing. "Hot. Sexy. Thick. Fuckable. Turn-on. Edible. It's all I'm ever called," she mumbled the words quietly, making me wince at every one that came out of her mouth. You could hear the distaste in her voice. "No one truly compliments me save for my parents."
"That can't be true," I shake my head, taking the fry from her hand before eating it myself. She glares at me. "You're fucking mind-blowingly beautiful." We held eye contact, and I saw the glare faltering, but in the end she stabilized it.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about," she said it so softly, it scared me. "People only say those words when they realize calling me sexy will only make me blush so much. They want to fuck me, they call me pretty; they call me smart. 'Carter, you're so stunning'," she mocks what I'm assuming some guy probably said to her before trying to taste her lips. I grimace at the thought.
"But I'm being honest. You look good." I tried to defend myself, but I got nowhere. In fact, I got insulted.
"You've disrespected me, physically hurt me, objectified me, and fucked me. Carson, your credibility is shit." Damn. I couldn't help the frown that I made. You try and give a girl a compliment and get told your method of persuasion, your ethos is shit. What a nice English lesson tie.
"Fine. No more compliments."
"It's not about the compliments," she looks me dead in the eye. "It's about the intent behind it. Are you intending to make me feel beautiful as a woman? Or are you trying to put me on my back?"
I couldn't even answer her question, too stunned.
|||
We were cackling like little girls on the way to the hotel room. Vincent texted Carter our room number and the lady at the desk took one look at us and handed us the room cards. "Okay okay," she leans back against the railing once we were in the elevator, "worst hook up."
When I went silent, all signs of laughter gone, she winced. "Sore spot?" I nodded. "Time when you lost your virginity?" She got nothing. "Another sore spot?"
I shook my head, "Same sore spot."
She nodded this time, "Same."
I changed the subject. As we passed the second floor. "Waffle fries or crinkle cut?"
"Crinkle cut all day." She answered quickly, a smile coming to her face. "Coke or Pepsi?"
"Coke."
"Pepsi's too sweet." We both say at the same time. I pause before asking her, "Tattoos or piercings?"
"Tattoos, obviously." Her eyes trail down my body, causing me to bite back a cocky smile. Of course she likes tattoos. "Here's a hard one: frostbite or heat stroke."
"Heat stroke, hands down." I shuffle toward her as we reached level five. Two more to go. "What about you?"
"Frostbite," she shrugs. "Sweaty boobs are gross."
"Yeah, but frosty nipples suck." I argue, to which she nods her head.
"My choice remains. Wet or dry?"
I choked. "Huh?"
"You heard me."
"I'm not answering that."
"Why not?"
"Why are you so sexual?" I scrunch up my nose just as she quirks up a perfectly arched brow.
"Why are you so sexual? I asked a simple question. What's your response?"
Luckily, the elevator door pinged, and her question got ignored. We walked to Hunter's room, picking up our things before trudging down to the room we had to stay in. This has got to stop happening. Sharing spaces with Carter is getting unbearable.
I open the room door for her, and she mutters a thank you before taking off her clothes and jumping on the bed. "No shower?" I looked at her figure, doing my best to stop falling into the same category of those guys that objectify her. I look at her eyes and her eyes only after satisfying my brain with the small glimpse of her image.
"Took one while you were talking with my brothers." She gets beneath the white covers, peering up at me with her eyes and above being the only thing visible.
I bite my lip, nervous about what I was going to ask her. Normally, I wouldn't even ask, but I feel that since this is me taking a step in the right direction, I have to. I want to. Her grouping me with the rest of the males she's come in contact with pisses me the fuck off. It makes something within me tick, my heart beat off rhythm, my veins dilate, boiling my skin. I looked up at the ceiling before looking back at her. She was looking around the room, oblivious to my damn near nervous breakdown. "Can I sleep with you?"
The look she gave me was comical, really. I would've taken a picture hadn't I felt like a wuss. "You've slept with me before...?"
"Not to have sex—"
"I know."
"But to just sleep with you, you know? I close my eyes, you close yours—"
"I understood just fine."
"I sleep naked too," I ramble on, completely ignoring whatever it was that she had to say because I was stuck, trying to explain myself, trying not to sound like a douche. "The whole sheet fabric and clothes fabric thing doesn't work for me."
"Carson." She gives me a weird look. "We've slept together before. Mr. Speros met Ms. Carter and she gave him a nice hug. We've been in the same bed naked before. Why are you asking now?"
"Because I want to do it right," I shrug, her words playing over and over again in my head: Are you intending to make me feel beautiful as a woman? Or are you trying to put me on my back? "I don't want to fuck you over, walk over you. I want to fix things. This. I want to fix this. May I sleep with you?"
She blushes profusely, causing me to blink in confusion. "What is this? Why are you doing that?"
"Why am I doing what?"
"Blushing," I point to her, gesturing to her face that's taken a slightly redder tone, and I just knew that underneath those covers the rest of her body was turning, too. "You're blushing and I'm just trying to be polite."
"I'm sorry. I'm not used to it." She defends herself, pulling the covers down so her whole face shows. I'm assuming, it's to let the heat on her face cool.
"You break my heart." All she does is shrug to this. "No one has ever wined and dined you?" She shakes her head, and I vowed that I'd be the first to do it. I have no clue when that'll happen, but I know I'll be the first. I'll make sure of it. "May I sleep with you?" I try for the third time.
"You may," she giggled, her face heating up even more.
"Naked?"
"However you please, big boy." She grins, patting the space next to her. I fucking speed walked over, yanking the shirt off of my body, and tossing it behind me before unbuttoning the shorts as I kicked off my boots. When the bottoms dropped, Carter gasped, forgetting that I went commando and her eyes fell before she picked them back up to look into my eyes. "You have pretty eyes, you know."
I rolled the things at topic. "Said every girl that I've fucked." I only said it because I knew she wouldn't take it to heart. She actually laughed at me, which made me feel so much better. Note the sarcasm. I pulled off the socks she gave me before jumping into bed next to her. "Can I hold you?"
"This is going to annoy me." She gives me a look, turning around to face me. When I didn't reply, she sighed, blushing again. "Yes, you can. You don't have to ask me, Carson. You can hold me whenever you want when we're sharing a bed."
I just looked into her eyes, trying to figure her out. She doesn't want to be objectified, but she wants me to take what I want, do what I want. She blushes like fuck when you use mannerism, but gets annoyed when you aren't assertive enough. Women are mindfucks, but I would be lying if I said I didn't like that. "You are something."
"Tell me about it," she smiles before closing her eyes. I took that as a moment to just go for it and reach to find her hand underneath the covers, in the dark. When I felt the heat of her skin, I brushed my fingers across it.
That's just not her hand...at all.
She jumps, and inner me just takes over, gripping her thigh and dragging her toward me so I could wrap my arms around her, feeling her hot skin against mine. She shivered under me when I breathed deeply. That fucking rosewater. Makes me want to lick between her legs—I'm doing it again. I nearly groaned.
I can do this. Be cordial. Friendly.
"How are you feeling about tomorrow?" Can I have a round of applause for not giving in and burying my face in her pussy?
"Pretty okay."
I don't know why I felt led to share this with her after what she put me through, but I just felt inclined to try and help her. I learned a lot about her and my respect for her increased majorly. "You uh...you wanna know what I think about before I bat?"
"Sure." She looks up into my eyes as my fingers trace down the curve of her back before going back up. I never went to her ass, no matter how tempting it was. I kept it at her back before brushing my fingers through the hair along her neck.
"I think as if it was my last time playing for a team."
She all but gasped dramatically, "Why are you so melodramatic? Last time playing for a team? Why would you say that?" She whispered quietly, and I searched her eyes for it, for something that'll make my past words true, but I don't.
"Remember when you tried to take a dig at me a while ago? When you asked why I didn't make it pro?" She nods her head, waiting for me to continue, her body getting closer to mine, her soft hips connecting to mine. She doesn't even comment as I feel my boner press up against her stomach. "I was supposed to get drafted, but then an accident happened and I was too much of a liability for the future so they took it back."
Her eyes were so wide, it pissed me off and intrigued me. "Jesus. What happened?" She was actually confused. I blinked at her, lowering my eyes to her neck before snapping my gaze back to her eyes. I wanted to choke her, but looking back into her eyes made my anger dissipate.
"You really don't know, do you?" I mumbled quietly, assessing her. She shook her head, hazel eyes looking up at me innocently. I cursed.
"Later. I'll tell you later," little did she know my accident had every fucking thing to do with her. "Just know that it happened, so I can't play for a major league team anymore, and then I'm a senior. This is the end of the fucking road for me. Straight off to actual work after college." I clenched my jaw, thinking about the day when my future career was stripped from me.
"Oh, Carson," she looked up at me, sympathizing a little too much for my liking, so I reacted impulsively. Gripping her hair, I snatched her back from my face, pissed off. She allowed it, took it, never breaking eye contact with me.
"Don't pity me, bitch." I gritted out, but she smiled. Smiled.
"I was sympathizing, you dick, and you know it." Then she did something that almost had me screeching like a bitch in heat.
She gripped my balls. "Talk to me like that again," she squeezed, her nails digging. My eyes watered as I cursed in a pitch that is embarrassing to say that I reached. "And I'll rip. Them. Off."
"Yes ma'am." I rasped, and she let go before smiling up sweetly at me, rubbing her fingers over my poor testicles soothingly.
"Now what were you getting at?" She moved her lethal hands from my ball sac to my chest, making my heart beat faster than I wanted it to.
"Thinking about not being able to play makes me sad, but it also pisses me off a lot more, which is good because sometimes you have to get—"
"Mad at the game." She chimes in with me, making my mouth want to smile but I force it not to.
"Yeah," I shrug. "So you should get mad at it. Still keep in mind what I said before about embracing the go, but I think if you think about something that ticks you off, you'll hit for sure."
"Hmm," she taps her finger against her lips, causing me to do a double take. My balls were in her hand and she tapped her finger against her pretty lips—Lord God please help me. "Like you?"
I give her a dirty look. "You say you hate that guys sexualize you, right?" She nods her head. "So think about every occasion, every encounter you had with a douche bag that's made you feel like you're worth nothing more than a toss in the sheets."
"Including encounters with you?" She smirks. She just loves saying things that pisses me off.
"If that's what does the trick, Carter." I push my annoyance to the side, getting caught off guard when she wraps her arms around my neck. Her fingers playing with my hair as I played with hers.
"Thank you." She presses her soft lips against my cheek, making my dick bounce in excitement. It also made my stomach feel like something was flying around in there, batting its tiny little wings.
I didn't trust myself to say something without my voice sounding weird, so I settled for closing my eyes, gently rubbing my thumb over her neck as a reply.
___