Page 28 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
Instead of him taking the bait and retreating back to what I’m comfortable with—sarcasm and banter, he leans in even closer, our chests touching. “Well, you know what they say, don’t you?” He nibbles my ear.
I swallow hard. Hopefully he doesn’t notice. “Probably, but why don’t you tell me anyway?”
He grazes my jaw line with the tip of his finger. “There’s only one way to find out.”
I’m pretty sure I’ve just been outplayed. Huh. I don’t think that’s ever happened before. And even more surprisingly, I’m not annoyed about it. I’m pleased.
My eyes flick to the dance floor again, finding my friends and their men still there, still all loved up.
Probably too in love to notice if I disappear early, right?
I slide my arm between us, my hand reaching into my bra. Vance and a few men in the vicinity do a double take when I pull out the wad of cash I keep there. “I’ll get the bill, you get the Uber.”
The sexy eye crinkles deepen. “You got it, Rosie-girl.”
Vance
We’rea tangle of limbs and hot breath as we enter my bedroom.
I was worried how this would go when Rose and I climbed into the Uber. Would there be awkward silence? Would she cry wolf and leave? Would I?
It seems I worried for nothing, because Rose wasted no time filling the twenty-minute drive to my apartment with stories of her party days, recaps of how her friends all fell in love (and the vital role she played in each happily ever after), and how much she loves messing with her college counselor.
Granted, she wasn’t talking tome, but rather the Uber driver. A man closer to Rose’s age than mine, who kept giving me nods and smirks that I assume were to signal how impressed he was by my catch of a young, hot co-ed, all the while using his rearview mirror to look down Rose’s shirt.
Still, her talk managed to kill time before we arrived at my place, situated a minute from NASA on the north side of Clear Lake. And when I stiffed the driver on the tip and gave him a one-star review noting ‘misuse of review mirror,’ I felt vindicated, if extremely petty.
Rose skipped up to my apartment on the third-floor whistling, acting like her coming home with me was a common occurrence.
But as soon as my key turned in the lock, it was like a bell went off in her head, and it was game on.
I was nearly tackled from behind as she pushed me through the nearest door.
When I flicked on the lights, she paused in her attack. She glanced around, finding herself in the bathroom. “Whoops.”
When I backed her across the hall into my bedroom, she regrouped, attacking me once more.
And now here we are, her hands busy pulling at my shirt, undoing my belt, fisting my hair.
She’s a tornado. It’s all I can do to stay on track, guiding her to the side of the bed and knocking her back onto it. Déjà vu.
I take a deep, lust-scented breath, needing to slow down, plan my next move.
But as always with Rose, she gives me no quarter. With me now out of reach, she crosses her arms, whipping her shirt off and throwing it somewhere over my shoulder. Her hot pink bra that’s been teasing me all night is lace and sheer and holding the weight of a thousand fantasies.
That comes off too.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to take off your pants?”
I push aside the belt buckle that she already undid but pause when I reach for my top button. “Actually”—I drink in the sight of her topless on my bed—“I think I’ll take yours off instead.”
She raises her hips in invitation. “By all means.”
It takes me a second to get a good enough hold on her waistband and the right leverage to peel her skinny jeans off her. They turn inside out as I pull, and with each new inch of skin revealed, my dick presses more urgently against my zipper.
Once her legs are free, I drop her pants and reach out for her panties.
“Ah, ah.” She wags a finger at me. “Tit for tat.” She shimmies, her breasts swaying. “And as this is a lot of tit, you owe me a lot of tat.” She laughs, her head dropping back. “God, I crack myself up.”
