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“Shit,” I breathe. “You’re soaking.”
Those emeralds are absolutely massive as she peers up at me, riddled with shock, like she didn’t think this was possible. “I’m wet…”
My brows pinch with confusion, but the feeling is fleeting, because my fingers find her swollen nub and she gasps, bucking against me. I push her panties aside and run one finger up her slick slit.
“Ohhh,” she moans as I stroke her center.
My thumb starts rubbing light circles around her clit, teasing, enticing every little whimper right out of her. My mouth closes over her neck and I start sucking, licking, nipping. She’s whimpering, shaking, chanting yes, yes, yes over and over again.
“Come home with me,” I plead softly. “I don’t wanna stop, not with you.”
Her head rolls back, brows furrowed as she studies me. She looks so small and innocent, I almost feel bad about what I’m doing right now. Her breath comes in short, heavy bursts, washing over my lips as I move in to kiss her again.
The patio door around the corner slams open and footsteps spill out over the wooden deck boards.
“She’s not here either,” a voice whines. “I’ve lost her. I’ve fucking lost her. Great.”
The girl in my arms yelps into my mouth and shoves against my chest, sending me backwards.
“What?” I ask, reaching for her.
Her eyes are frantic as she pulls her dress down, trying to straighten herself out as the footsteps get louder, closer. We both turn our heads as a blonde appears.
I recognize her immediately as Ginger’s best friend. I know because they’ve been inseparable until I swooped in, and also because I approached her at the bar and asked her about her friend.
She’s my best friend, she told me at the time. And she’s fantastic. But you’ll have to find that out for yourself. Then she winked at me and stalked off, arms full of shots.
With a hand over her heart, she breathes out a dramatic sigh, sagging. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Her gaze bounces curiously between us, followed by the devious curl of her lips. “What were you two doing?”
“Nothing,” Ginger insists a little too forcefully. The glare she pins me with dares me to say differently. I don’t need to. Her friend’s not stupid, and her tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and swollen, pouty lips say everything words don’t need to.
So I just hold my hands up in innocent surrender, smiling at both of them.
Her friend doesn’t buy it, like I said. She raises her brows and then rolls her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. “Whatever.” She turns to…fuck, why don’t I know her name? This is ridiculous. She turns to her friend, the girl I wish I still had my hands on. “Aaron’s here.”
Aaron? Who’s Aaron?
Ginger’s green eyes go wide. “I don’t want to see him.”
Ah. Must be Mr. Douchebag.
“I know. But he saw you…” The blonde’s eyes slide to me. They dart down and widen. I follow her gaze.
Yep. Fuck. I’ve got a goddamn torpedo in my pants. I clear my throat and turn around, adjusting myself. It’s painful; he doesn’t want to play along. Actually, that’s not right. Playing along is exactly what he wants to do.
The blonde continues, amusement dancing on her face when I turn back to them. “He saw you two dancing before you disappeared. He’s pissed off.”
Little Miss Strawberry clenches her jaw and pins her arms over her chest. “He has no right to be. I can dance with whoever I want to.”
“Fuck yeah you can,” I say enthusiastically. I hold up a hand, hoping for a high-five, but she only peeks up at me, a smile tugging up one side of her face. A sweet dimple pops in her cheek, but she quickly shakes her head before looking away.
“Can you please come tell him to go fuck himself? I’ve been dying to knee him in the balls too.” The blonde holds her hands up in prayer. “He won’t leave until he talks to you. He’s been going wild in there.”
Well, that doesn’t make me feel very good. Is he dangerous? I look to my favorite redhead and hope my expression conveys how serious I am. “If he’s that pissed off, you probably shouldn’t talk to him right now. It might not be safe.”
She considers me carefully for a minute before straightening off the wall. “I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself.”
Her friend throws me a sympathetic smile. “She can. Don’t worry.”
