Page 59 of The One I Need
“Hey, you two,” the driver said. “I know it’s a big night for you and all, but you have to be in your seats or my ass gets a ticket.”
“You’re no fun,” I groan as I go back to my seat.
“It’s okay,” Oliver whispers to me as he takes my hand in his. “You can have your way with me as soon as we get back to the hotel.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Really really.”
And like we’ve done it a thousand times, Oliver leans over and takes my lips with his.
I’m a fucking idiot. Why have I been denying myself this? Oliver makes me feel good, and I like feeling good. Who doesn’t like feeling good? Feeling good is grrrrreat.
Like right now. His lips feel good. His hand that’s currently cupping my pussy feels good. I know his dick is going to feel good.
Yup. I’ve been an idiot.
Who knew all you needed was ten shots of tequila, two bottles of champagne, and a few margaritas to not be an idiot? Someone should tell people that.
“We’re here,” the driver says. “And please give me five stars since I was an unwilling audience to your porno.”
“You got it man!” Oliver says as he helps me out of the car.
As soon as we’re in the lobby, we make a beeline for the elevators. We’re not even two steps into the elevator when he starts kissing me again. We nearly fall out of the elevator when it stops on our floor, which luckily isn’t too far away from our room.
“Oliver,” I whisper as we stumble to the door. “I’m having déjà vu.”
Oliver stops for a second before looking at me. He’s in deep thought. At least he looks like that to me. All three of him.
“We did! At the wedding! When I fell in love with you!”
“Yes! That night!” I yell, nearly falling over in my excitement. “So why can’t you ever get into rooms?”
“Becaussse,” he slurs. “I’m not very good with my hands.”
I try to step toward him, but I’m pretty sure I trip into him. Either way, I got the card, which is all that matters.
“You are very good with your hands. And your tongue. And when we get in that room, you’re going to use both of them.”
Oliver nods his head, but it keeps bobbing up and down like a doll. “Yes, ma’am.”
I turn around and tap the key to the lock and luckily the green lights appear.
“We’re in!”
I try to take a step in, but Oliver surprises me by picking me up, one arm under my legs and the other around my back.
“What are you doing? You’re going to drop me.”
“I would never drop you,” he says. “Never ever.”
He carries me into the room, and I throw down the key and my purse in the process. One of my shoes falls off, which is fine. My feet were hurting so bad. Heels are stupid.
“My lady,” he says, lowering me down on the bed, and I don’t know if he planned on coming into it with me, but he did. I’m fine with that. Makes it easier for me to take his pants off. That is, if I could get his shoes off. It’s not easy. He has them double knotted. And I’m really drunk.
“Oh!” Oliver yells suddenly, nearly making me fall off the bed. I look up at him, and his eyes are doubled in size. “I just realized something.”
“What?”
