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The crowd oooohed and ahhhhed. I laughed and sipped my drink, holding his gaze and biding my time.
“Oh yeah,” I said, my voice suddenly husky and rough. “Keeps him close when I come on his face.”
That left him speechless. Doug sprayed beer across the table, and Benji’s beer came out his nose. I was trembling with adrenaline at what I’d said, and cover it up with a wink, and then sauntered off to Stacey, Sam and Amanda on the dancefloor.
The talk of oral and hair pulling left me with no power to think.
Things had changed.
Tom was staring from the table as I danced with the girls, his eyes dark and … hungry.
Amanda whooped and twirled to the beat. Shit, but what would Amanda think of her little brother flirting back with her best friend?
The next song was slow and the girls retreated to their table and I joined them, listening in to the boys beside us.
“Holy fuck.” Benji slapped Tom’s back. He was tanked tonight. “But what guy actually wants to eat a girl out, right? Licking pussy sucks balls.”
Tom wiped spilt beer from his hand with his sleeve. “You’re kidding, right?”
“What?” Benji asked over the laughter of the boys.
“You dick,” Doug chimed in, pointing a finger at Benji. “If you think licking pussy is like sucking balls, you’re doing it wrong.” The guys howled with more laughter. Benji’s ears went pink. Even I chuckled.
“But”—Benji leant forward, dropping the volume of his voice—“you don’t actually like the taste of …you know…”
Doug shrugged. “You do whatever you need so they’ll let you stick in it.”
Lovely.I rolled my eyes. That was the problem with so many men. Only interested in getting themselves off.
Tom also rolled his eyes, not impressed with Doug at all.
“What?” Doug demanded. “Got something to say, Tom Cat?”
“If that’s your approach with the ladies, it explains why you’re being shot down by them all.”
Doug frowned and then grinned. “With the workouts I’m doing, this bod—” He waved up and down his chest. “Says it all for me. Only chumps need pick-up lines.”
“No one needs a damn line. Try giving respect a go.”
Doug ignored Tom and drank the rest of his beer. Tom looked our way and our eyes caught, taking my breath away.
The hunger hadn’t gone away.
Given the chance, I’d let him eat me out for days. After tonight’s banter, every possibility of what I could do to him, with him, in bed was living rent-free in my mind.
* * *
Tom
Footy award drinks wrapped an hour later, and I ended up with Rosie, and Doug, who’d picked up a girl who graduated from high school last year—Julie? June? I’d missed her name—piled into my dual cab ute with me as the designated driver. I would’ve asked Julie-June for her real name, but she was attached to Doug’s lips in some impressive making out in the back seat. Apparently, Doug’s guns had done the job tonight, and he looked very likely to get laid.
With Julie-June’s moans and Doug’s constant grunting,‘oh baby’, ‘touch it’, ‘that’s it baby’, I felt caught in a car porno shoot. All I could think of was that kiss with Rosie.
But we’d said there wouldn’t be anything else. But more moans from Julie-June had me instantly thinking about doing so many things to Rosie to hear her moan my name.
Crap, think about football. Think about … sheep, paddocks, fencing, shearing …
Rosie cleared her throat. “So, ah, hey, Doug? Where are we taking you and … your friend?”
