Page 117 of I Blame the Club

Lacey lets out a laugh before putting away her weapon of choice.

“You tell me.”

I jump off her bed, racing to the bathroom to check out my girl’s artistry. Letting out a hoot, I’m in the middle of rejoicing when the toilet flushes and a very unimpressed Cecelia comes walking out of the stall behind me.

“Why are you always here?”

I give her a beaming grin, my raised spirits no match for the negative aura of the evil roommate.

“Because I love seeing you, CeCe.”

She rolls her eyes, pushing past me to wash her hands. I step to the side, doing my best to radiate friendly vibes as she stares me down in the mirror.

“Your eyes look good.” Giving me a half-smile, she points to my jaw, “But your facial hair could use some work.”

Ignoring the temptation to check the mirror, I let my grin grow wider, “Was that a compliment I just heard? CeCe, I think we’re starting to become friends.”

Another eye roll.

“You talk too much.”

And with that final comment, she turns and stomps back to her room, leaving me to double check my beard to make sure it didn’t suddenly become patchy.

The wicked witch of the dormitory was lying through her teeth because I look hella good tonight.

At my request, Lacey kept the eyeliner as minimal as possible, leaving on just enough to make my eyes look darker than usual. I’m not sure how Maurice is going to react when he sees the slight addition but I figure we will cross that bridge when we get there.

“You look perfect.” Lacey smiles at me from the doorway, her baggy hoodie hanging off her lanky frame. She would make an incredible ballerina if it weren’t for the fact she didn’t have an athletic bone in her body.

“Thank you, mi amor. It’s perfect.” I run over and scoop her up in a hug, “You’re perfect.”

Lacey laughs, squeezing me back, “Just try to remember when the doubts creep in, communicate with him. Don’t have a meltdown on the sidewalk and run away again.”

Well said.

“You got it.” Pressing a kiss against her forehead, I give her one last grin before grabbing my wallet and heading for the door.

“Have a good second first date!”

“Red looks good on you.”

Maurice does a scan of my body over the hood of his car, his arms resting atop the Cadillac. My dick presses against the zipper of my dress pants as I take in the casual dominance of his relaxed position.

As if reading my thoughts, Maurice pushes off the massive vehicle and walks around to greet me properly. My mouth goes dry as I take in the shoulders outlined through the fitted material, the pale blue colour of the shirt a perfect match for those devastating eyes.

Letting my hands brush over the silky material of my own shirt, my lips pull into a grin, “An admirer got me this.”

He comes to a stop in front of me, an amused smile painting his lips, “Is that the same admirer you tried to return it to?”

“Maybe.” I step forward, soaking in the view, “Or maybe it’s from a different admirer.”

A brow goes up, “I’d hate to see what the other guy looks like.”

I burst out laughing, barely catching my breath before Maurice steps forward and captures my lips with his. His tongue traces the seam of my lips and I open them, letting him claim every piece of me. Sucking on his bottom lip, I’m about to shove my hands down his pants when Maurice pulls away with a scowl.

“Stop distracting me. We’re going on a date tonight.”

I grin, my hands cupping his ass, “Somebody is feeling out of control.”

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