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Chapter 5
Ginny
Dad: We need to talk about this decision. Where are you?
Me: I’m enjoying the holiday with friends. What do we need to talk about? It’s my decision to make, or have you forgotten I’m over 18.
Dad: You’re throwing away everything you worked hard for. What about Antony? Are you really going to destroy his dreams, too?
Me: Wow Dad, seems you care more about him than me. Your daughter, in case you forgot.
Me: GTG. Talk later.
Dad: I expect to see you by the end of January. Do you hear me?
Me: Yes Dad.
Me: Bye.
My conversation with my father is still nagging at me. When I joke about the drink to Carter, I’m not prepared for his response. Truthfully, it’s not a joke; women should never take drinks from strangers in a bar, and I broke the cardinal rule.
But his answer sets me on fire. Little does he know I mean what I said. The idea of being with three men has my core throbbing. My only goal for this Christmas break is to let my freak flag fly and do whatever the hell I want.
So I slam my lips down on his and kiss him. I mean, why the hell not? And damn if it isn’t hot. I expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. The sparks that are flying between us, though, are definitely unexpected. As he deepens the kiss, I part my lips and his tongue slips in, caressing mine.
I angle myself toward him, needing to feel more of his body against mine. His hand slides into my hair, holding my head firmly in place, and instantly, I imagine him fisting my hair in his hand as I suck his cock—pushing my face down on what I hope to be a very impressive shaft.
When he pulls away, we’re both breathless. I touch my swollen lips, which ache to kiss him again. “Fuck, that was amazing,” he tells me, as he lifts his glass and takes a swallow of his drink.
He’s fucking gorgeous—tall, but everyone is compared to me. His shoulders are broad and muscular, the shirt he’s wearing stretching tightly against his body. Emerald green eyes look back at me with a slight golden fleck in the right one that matches his shaggy chestnut locks perfectly. His skin is smooth, and I wonder what he would look like with a close-cut beard—how it would feel rubbing against my thighs as he devoured my pussy.
“That it was.”
“So, Ginny, what are you doing here?”
“Just spending the holidays with some friends before I go visit my dad. Apparently, he felt the need to remind me tonight via text since I wasn’t taking his calls. How about you?”
“Just here with my brother and a friend of ours. Seems our parents felt since we were grown and didn’t want to come home, a cruise would be more fun for them.”
“Guess your family couldn’t wait to be away from you, and mine wants to smother me. What a pair we make. And brother and friend? Maybe you weren’t joking.” I laugh just as one of my favorite songs starts playing—Lizzo Truth Hurts—and I want to dance.
Standing up, I pick up my drink and down it like a woman possessed. No way in hell I’m wasting it. I slam the empty glass down on the table and take Carter’s hand in mine. “Come dance with me?”
“Okay, hold on.” He picks up his drink, doing the same as me, then lets me drag him to the dance floor.
I love music. Turning around, I put my back to his chest and begin grinding against him. When he starts dancing behind me, my jaw drops—he’s got some moves. The way he’s moving against me sends my mind straight to the gutter.
His hot breath skirts along my neck as he leans into me. “Fuck baby, you’re getting me hard moving like that.” He thrusts his crotch into me and I can feel his sizable hardness.
“Seems like you’re already there, not getting.” Turning around, I wrap my arms around his neck just as the music changes to a slow song. His hands slide around my waist, rubbing up and down my back before dipping to my ass, cupping each of my cheeks.
“And if I were to ask to look at your pussy, would it be sopping wet?” His gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine. Truth is, I am wet. If he were to look, I bet those lips would be just as swollen and needy as the ones on my face were after he kissed me.
I don’t know what happens, but the inner vixen in me comes out to play. “Why don’t we find a dark corner and you can slip your fingers inside my panties and find out?”
He growls, sending a shot of electricity straight to my pussy and it throbs with need. He releases me, then takes my hand. We weave through the crowd as his head swivels left to right, taking in the club. I don’t have to ask. I know what he’s doing.
Carter must find what he’s looking for, because he begins to move more swiftly through the crowd and his excitement to have me turns me on. I know I’m not ugly, but other than the guys in the club, I’m not around men a lot. So when I’m out in public and the opportunity arises, let’s just say it leads to a whole lot of hookups before I’m swept back off to my secluded life. But to know this guy genuinely wants me because of me and not because of accessibility has me soaring.
