Page 390 of Rock Me All Night
He chuckles. "Sometimes it's fun not getting everything you want."
Not for me at the moment. I slide my phone into my purse and direct my attention to the movie screen. "Should I guess how your friend wanted to spend the feature?"
"If thoughts of me getting blown in a movie theater please you."
Only if it's by me.The flush in my cheeks spreads to my chest. "You really have girls that desperate to drop to their knees?"
He nods.
"Why not rip off her panties and finger fuck her when the lights go out?"
"Finger fuck?" He scrunches up his face. "You really haven't had sex in years."
"Thanks for the reminder."
"I like this movie. I'm not interested in a distraction."
"You'd takeFight Clubover a blow job?"
"Not in the mood." He shrugs. "I can snap my fingers and a get a woman on her knees." He looks around the room, counting. "At least four here."
I do my own count. There are about ten women in attendance but half of them are cuddled up with male dates.
"I envy your confidence," I say.
"You can get at least five guys here to fuck you."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, sure." He points to the twenty something glasses wearing guy sitting in the row across from us. "He was checking you out before I took this seat."
"I'm sure you're trying to help—"
"Yeah. You need to break your dry spell. Get out of your head. Have some fun. Not saying that Mr. Plaid Shirt over there is the right choice, but somebody. Trust me. Once you come a few times, you'll see... sex is no big deal. You'll be attracted to guys left and right."
"You're offering to get me laid?"
He nods. "As your wing man. Unless you prefer Miles."
No, the problem is that I don't prefer Miles. I don't prefer Pete. I don't prefer Mr. Plaid Shirt. Hell, I don't even prefer Brad Pitt playing Tyler Durden.
Tom's elbow bumps against mine. He motions to the armrest. "You can have it."
"I'm good at sharing."
"How about we go out after this? There's a local band I know playing a late show. Should be a lot of guys there. Drummers even."
"I don't have a thing for drummers."
"Sure you do. We play hard, we fuck hard. We're animals."
My head fills with the mental image of Tom pounding into the red head until she's screaming his name over and over and over again.
Damn photographer's mind is too imaginative.
"Shit. Sorry. That's not helping you cool down, huh?" His fingers brush against mine. "This whole movie is shirtless dudes grabbing at each other. You're gonna be begging for it by the time it's over."
"Tom, I know you're trying but—"
