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Flushing, I raise my hand and wave my panties like a slutty white flag.
“Fucking fuck,” Evan grunts.
Does that mean he likes this? Or has he not seen lace before? It’s possible the women he’s dated have never bothered wearing any panties.
With faux calm, I grab more tiles and resume the game, praying he’s unfocused enough to give me an edge.
Grr. I’m not sure if Evan is trying to mess with my head or what, but the words he plays include things like ‘cup,’ ‘coax,’ ‘nip,’ and the least subtle of all, ‘lick.’
My nipples, which thank goodness are still covered by my bra, are rock hard.
Ignoring my body’s stupid reactions, I play random words, bide my time, and focus.
Is that…?
Yes, it is.
Whooping with glee, I spell out the last word of our game on the table: ‘theatricalizing.’ Then I look up at Evan, smirking. “Look… You don’t have to do anything you’re not okay with.”
Brushing off my words, he stands up, exposing the bulge once more.
Oh, my.
He grabs his boxers. “You can turn away if this is too much.”
“Yeah. Not going to happen. I earned this show.”
“Okay.” He tugs his boxers down, foregoing a stripper routine.
When his cock juts out from its prison, my eyes boggle and I catch myself clutching my chest, as if I had pearls there.
The thing is gorgeous. The words ‘big’ or ‘thick’ or ‘long’ don’t do it justice. A longer word is required. Something adopted from German perhaps. Something that would win at Scrabble any day of the week. To put this in Jolene’s terms, this is like that giant dose of vitamin D that your doctor gives you when your blood test shows a deficiency.
“So,” says the guy attached to Vitamin D. “As the winner, what do you want?”
Forcing myself to lift my gaze, I clear my parched throat. “What do you mean?”
“We never talked about the prize for winning this game,” he says. “Doesn’t it feel like there should be one?”
I swallow hard as sweat trickles down my spine. “What do you have in mind?”
Evan’s eyes gleam, and Vitamin D twitches—no doubt creating a gust of wind. “Anything you want.”
What do I want? And why am I getting to my feet? Wait, why am I walking toward him? Better yet, where is my hand going? Because it’s reaching for Vitamin D like it hasn’t seen sunlight in decades.
“Fuck,” Evan grunts when my hand reaches its destination. “That’s a great choice.”
Vitamin D feels hard and velvety in my hand. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Not when drunk,” Evan says. “And not with you leaving so soon.”
I stroke Vitamin D up and down its length. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” With that, I rise on tiptoes and slant my lips over his.
Chapter Fourteen
Evan
This feels amazing. Her lips are soft and pliant, and as to her small hand on my cock—I have no words.
