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Chapter Four
Bryant
Present . . .
We make it to her door, our lips still glued together since they magnetized after we got out of the cab. My hands have a mind of their own, and that's possessive groping all over her body. She tilts her head, breaking contact, her chest heaving up and down rapidly as her hands become support beams in the doorframe.
I grip the back of her thigh and pull it toward me, my other hand going for the center as my lips reach her cleavage. "Shit. Hold on. Let's go inside."
She starts fumbling around with the key at the keyhole, the two never aligning. I grab it and slide it in, unlocking the door. She pushes the door open and pulls at her leg to get balanced on both feet. I let her, against my will. I'd fuck her against the door without even going inside. Where makes no difference to me. There's no bar distracting me anymore. I want to get it in.
I follow her inside, slamming the door behind me. She turns around. "You want anything? Water? Beer? I may even have some liquor left."
I stalk toward her. "No. I'm thirsty, but it's for something else."
She wraps her hands around my neck, a smile present. "Are you always this brazen?"
My hands grip her thighs, tight, lifting her. "Every fucking day of my life."
She places her lips to my ear. "But I have Smirnoff Whipped Cream flavored Vodka. I can think of lots of places that would taste good."
Fuck. She's baiting me. And it's sexy as hell because it shows she isn't stale during sex. No guy likes a girl that just lays there. I've already had way too much alcohol tonight. Usually when I have to babysit Joel that's what it consists of. And as a result, between the long run with beer and the shots, I'm fucked up. But I can regret it tomorrow. Tonight I'm sucking vodka off her tits. "Where is it?" I ask against her neck.
She wiggles down my body until I let her go, going for the kitchen cabinet beside the refrigerator. When she opens it I discover exactly how big her liquor collection really is. It makes a vendor proud. There is some expensive shit up there. "You have good taste or are you just a badass collector for your guests?"
She pulls the clear bottle down and shuts the cabinet, immediately opening the drawer in front of her, removing a liquor portion control pour spout that she inserts into the neck of the bottle. Fuck, this is going to be fun. "I guess for some of us drinking is a hobby. Why do you ask?" I can tell she's drunk by the slight slur to her speech but she holds her liquor well. I've met many girls that are sadly sloppy drinkers, and it can be a definite turn off at times, depending on how horny I am.
I walk up behind her, my chest to her back, my hands splaying against the front of her thighs as my lips move to her ear. "I just have a thing for women that know their alcohol, especially the high-end stuff."
"Oh yeah? You a collector?" My hands begin ascending up her thighs, sending her dress north.
She turns in my arms when the bottom hem is sitting at her waist. "Something like that."
She smiles. "We're keeping secrets? Even better . . ."
"Less complicated is better for me."
I remove her dress, tossing it on the floor. "That makes two of us," she says."
She takes the bottle and pours her mouth full, swallowing, and then licks her lips. "Want some?"
I smile and pick her up, turning to sit her on the countertop shared with the elevated bar. "Only if it's on you."
"I guess you better undress me then. Tell me, Bryant. How are you with bra removal?" she asks, clearly trying to be a smartass.
I reach around to her back with one hand, unclasping her black bra in a quick, single motion, each side springing toward her arms. "Pretty damn good."
The impressed smile is obvious. I grab the wire between her breasts, pulling it toward me until it falls away from her body. Undressing a woman for the first time is always a little nerve racking. It's like opening a present, and you never really know what you're going to get. My eyes land on her bare tits for the first time. Perfect. Fucking. Rack. Not too big, not too small, sitting at the right height on her chest and completely symmetrical. Nipples the perfect color and proportionate to breast size. Unfortunately, I can be an ass when it comes to tits. I can settle in the ass department, but not tits. I like them, and when I find a good pair it's hard to turn away, but real is always better than fake, no matter what any woman thinks. "Beautiful rack."
"Good boy," she says, summoning my eyes to hers. She lifts the bottle to her chest, slowly and meticulously turning it up until it's pouring in a single stream from bottle to chest. She moves it from left to right, creating a waterfall effect over her tits. "Now drink up."
Holy fuck. Where has she been all my life? My mouth immediately grips around her nipple, sucking hard, pulling the clear liquid into my mouth, before moving to the other side. "Hell yeah. Now show me what that tongue can do."
I smile against her skin, extending my tongue, licking and sucking in a trail down her body. The liquid continues to come, my mouth a vacuum as I descend, but her spine arches until the back of her head is lying on the bar. My bottom lip runs into her panty line. They're soaked from the vodka.
I stand, gripping the back of her panties in my fist as she pours another mouthful. Before she can swallow I grab the back of her neck and force her up, crushing my mouth to hers, taking the shot from her. She moans into my mouth as she lets me use her mouth as a shot glass. I swallow—the sweet flavored burn running down my throat—and I tear her panties down her legs. "Watch me, beautiful."
I'm getting drunker by the minute, and if we keep this up we're going to be passed out before I can even get it in. I'm a bigger frame, and if I'm this drunk her small figure has to be pretty lit without me even knowing how much she's consumed. The tequila shots are thriving in my veins, and the vodka is going to have me fubared within the next thirty minutes.
