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“Yes.”
Stepping even closer, I get within an arm’s length of her hot little body. “Thugs need hugs too.”
Shoshannabites her bottom lip, appearing to be fighting a grin. “That’s not cute.”
I laugh because she’s trying so fucking hard not to show me any softness. “Tell your smile that.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, puffing up her breasts a little, and I can’t help but stare at those lovely mounds, can’t help but burn a hole through the material covering them, imagining the tanned skin beneath. I am a tit guy. . . That is for fucking sure.
Immediately, she drops her arms to her sides. When I bounce my gaze back to meet hers, she is scowling even harder with a feigned look of disgust.
I like your tits, baby; it’s not a crime.
She stiffens. “I have friends over.”
Feeling pretty stiff myself, I feel the need to move. I step towards her, holding the pizza boxes out of the way with one hand, bringing me to a place where she has to arch her neck to see me. Where I can see straight down her white shirt and watch the heavy rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing picks up pace. Lowering my voice, I say, “And?”
Her throat rolls, and I love how that simple action shows her nervousness. I love how I make her nervous. And I reckon that means she likes me. . . at least enough to care what I think.
She matches me stare for stare. Her cutting amber eyes sit perfectly circled by ink-black lashes that bow up to her eyelids - perfect black fans. The kind my mum pays hundreds a week to have glued on hers.
“So if I let you in, it’s not a date,” she states adamantly.
Remembering the pizza slice in my other hand, I take another bite. “If you say so, baby.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” She turns and I tail her in, groaning around the pizza at the sight of the gap just below her round arse, the one between her thighs. A little diamond-shaped gap. “And don’t call me baby,” she snaps.
The giggling girls sitting on the couch in their pyjamas draw my attention to the lounge room I have just entered. Five mattresses splay across the beige carpet. The television flickers in the dimly lit room as it plays some girly crap with that chick with the huge lips and red hair - Julia, I think.
“Slumber party, hey? Where are your folks?” I ask, smirking at the girls.
I take them all in, recognising two of them. One, I think, lives in my neighbourhood. They are all pretty. Shoshannahas hot friends.
The girl from my neighbourhood, petite brunette, eyes me timidly, darting her gaze to the floor as soon as I notice her.
I move over to the spot beside her, plop down onto the mattress, and place the pizza on the floor in front. Stretching my legs out to get comfortable, I say, “So, I brought my girls pizza.”
They all giggle, but Shoshannascoffs, and I think I like her scoff just as much as her concealed smiles.God, I want to kiss those lips. That scoff. I want to kiss it until I can’t breathe.
“We’re playing truth or dare,” the pretty brunette says, smiling widely at me, flashing her white teeth. Her violet-coloured eyes blink fast as she peers at me over her shoulder, her brown hair making a curtain beside her face.
“And what’s your name?” I ask.
“Nina.”
“I’m Bron-“
“I know who you are.”
“Oh? Has Shoshannabeen talking about me?” I say, raising my gaze to watch my baby as she glares at me and her friend. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d guess she is a little jealous of how close we are sitting. That thought makes me grin so fucking hard at her. “Whose turn is it next?”
Shoshanna raises a perfectly arched brow at me. “You’re not playing.”
Pouting a little, I ask, “What am I going to do while I’m here then, baby?”
“He can play,” Nina says, twisting to face me, her knee lightly grazing mine. “Truth or dare.”
I like this chick, so I indulge her, giving her my attention. “Dare.”
