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“You brought me lemonade?” She beams, surprised, and jumps a little in excitement, clapping her hands together.
The movement’s just enough to bounce her tits and the hardness of my cock has me needing to hit something for a touch of relief. She’s so easy to please and a genuinely grateful person. It makes her like a goddamn angel. An angel that I can’t touch. Ever.
“Of course.” The reply comes out as a croak as I hand the bag over with the beverage and her parfaits. She could ask me to rob a bank for her right now, and I’d do it.
“And parfaits! Yummy! Thank you.”
Grunting, I shove my way passed her to head for the couch. I need to slam a beer ASAP to get my mind preoccupied before I rip her shirt in two. Of course, in my haste, my arm brushes across her tits, and I grind my teeth to keep me from yanking her frame to mine.
She draws in a quick breath at the unintentional caress, and I’m tormented with the stiffness from her nipples. I want to palm each globe and draw the peaks into my mouth. I could probably make her come from touching her tits alone.
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
The chant begins in my mind automatically at the prospect of defiling this perfect being. I want to dirty her up a bit but have to hold myself back.
The prayer hits me immediately, asking for forgiveness as I imagine my father whipping my back like he did when I was a child. It’s the only thing I can think of to turn my thoughts away from deflowering this young woman’s magnificent body. She may as well be a piece of chocolate cake sitting in front of me, telling me I can’t eat it. In the end, I’m a man; I’m going to at least stick my finger in the frosting.
Man, I fucking love chocolate cake too. I’d eat the shit out of it, just like I would her pussy. Christ, I can’t think like that about her. I have to stop this.
“There’s pizza left if you’re hungry,” Jude offers, and her perfect mouth’s enticing with each word.
“I already ate.” Besides, I wouldn’t be eating pizza with her. The only thing around here that I want to taste is between her legs.
“Oh, okay.” She sounds bummed, but I don’t give a shit. The last thing I need is to sit here and watch her putting things into her mouth. The one item I want to see there is my dick, and that can’t happen. I won’t let it.
Plopping down on the worn-in peanut butter suede couch, I grab the remote and flip on the TV. A black screen appears, but no picture. “What happened to the TV?” I ask, keying in random channels but still come back with nothing.
“It got shut off. They let you float the bill for three months then cut it off.”
Shit! Because her mom never paid for it. I swear that bitch is something else. I should’ve asked if she needed me to pay anything besides the house note. Not having my own place has me forgetting about other bills she may have around here.
“It’s all good, I have a Netflix account. I can just sign on, and you’ll have stuff to watch whenever you want.”
“I’ve seen it advertised online, but never watched it. Is it like regular TV?”
“Yeah, babe, it’s pretty much the same thing—just cheaper and everything’s on demand. I’ll show you.” Clicking through options, I find the app and use my sign in information. Then I go through, step by step, showing her how to browse and select shows.
“That’s cool. I don’t watch anything really, but at least you’ll have something for when you’re here. That first category, are those, uh, adult films?” Her voice becomes breathy, and it’s an unintentional stroke to my cock.
Clearing my throat, I pretend not to hear her and reach for my beer. My throat’s suddenly gone dry. I wonder why that is?
I wish she’d let me take her away from this place and have her...
Wait, where did that thought come from? I can’t bring her with me, unless, well…maybe if Princess helps. But then again, Saint couldn’t know, and I have a feeling Jude isn’t the type to hide her friendship with someone. I can’t imagine my brother taking kindly to her attachment with me either.
She’s already told me that’s exactly what we are—friends. Saint is my best friend. I have my MC brothers, and apparently, according to Jude, I have her friendship too. I don’t know what to do with it if I'm honest about it. That’s not really what I crave from her anyhow. I want to dip between her legs and make her scream my name.
Friends...the word’s like poison when I connect it with her. Friendship isn’t enough. I need to fuck her so badly, I can feel myself gritting my teeth right now just thinking about it. I don’t imagine “friends” are supposed to fantasize about each other like that. But then again there’s Saint, and our relationship definitely isn’t the usual either. The brothers all believe he and I fuck, but what goes on behind closed doors is between me and Saint, no one else.
“You have any plans?” I mutter absently as I turn on the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s, quickly browsing past the more unsavory films Saint and I usually watch. I need some sort of action to keep my mind distracted from her and damn sure nothing with tits or ass in it.
“No, today was my last day of work. I’m off for the next three days. My boss can’t afford to have me on any more hours than I’m already scheduled for. She said the other day that she may have to let me go.”
“Right.” Nodding, I slam the rest of my beer and crack open another, not paying much attention to her words. I can’t. Her voice does things to my body it shouldn’t be allowed to, as well as her mouth. I feel like a ticking time bomb. Maybe it was a bad idea coming here, after all.
It’s going to be a long night being this close to her without being allowed to touch. Don’t understand why I subject myself to this sort of torture with her. I shouldn’t give a shit about any of it—her mom or fucking her—nothing. Instead, I find myself attempting to preserve her innocence like some sort of Good Samaritan. Such a joke. I’m far from a decent man, that’s for sure.
“How was your week?” she probes, saddling up way too close for my comfort. She sits right next to me on the couch and leans back, her legs slightly spread. It seems all fine and dandy, but it’s not. The bitch’s pussy lips are outlined perfectly, taunting me to lean over and graze them with my fingertips.
