Page 95 of Resistance Training
It’s hard to believe there was ever a time when I didn’t know who I’d bring as a date to this wedding. Even harder to believe there was ever a time when Brad and I weren’t talking to each other. As I stand here, swaying to “What a Wonderful World,” in his arms, I find it hard to believe there will ever be a time when we aren’t together. I don’t think there will be.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Granny Sparks approaching, in her sequin dress and cardigan, and I say, laughing, “I swear to God, Granny, if you touch my boyfriend one more time, I will cut you.”
CHAPTER 29
BRAD
“Tell me more, tell me more, like, does he have six abs? Uh-huh! Doo-doo, uh-huh! Mm-hmm, bop-bop, yeah!”
“She ran by me, to the wrong dooooor!”I sing to the tune of “Summer Nights,” and Idodo a mean Travolta impression.
Hah!
Doo-doo.
I’ve only had one vodka tonic and half a glass of champagne, but I feel amazing and hilarious and horny as a motherfucker.
My girlfriend is gorgeous and barefoot and waving her key card in the air as she approaches the door to a hotel room that does not currently house our belongings. This is the first time I’ve had the pleasure of her company while she’s tipsy on champagne, and I have no complaints, other than the fact that she is still wearing clothes.
“Wrong door, Sunshine Sally.”
“What?! No, it’s not.” She holds the key card up to the scanner, and it doesn’t unlock the door, because as I told her, it is the wrong door. “Hang on, hang on.”
“Oh, you wanna try again? Okay, sweetie.” I’m holding her shoes and her handbag, and I have exactly no patience left because I haven’t been alone with this woman all day, but I would fucking love to stand here and watch her try to open the wrong door with that key card.
She flips the key card around. Not facing the other way, she turns it upside down, presses it against the scanner again, and then looks back at me, frowning, because of course it’s my fault. “Did you switch key cards on me?”
“No, I came back up here and switched the doors during the reception. That’s how much I wanted to stand here in the hallway tonight”—I lower my voice—“instead of fucking you blind in our actual hotel room!”
She lowers her chin the tiniest bit, but my girl is not willing to admit defeat, even at the risk of waiting longer to get fucked blind. Like a stubborn toddler, she flips that key card around, maintains eye contact with me while attempting to hold it up against the scanner.
“You’re aiming about two inches too low,” I tell her.
“That’s what she said,” she quips, literally without batting an eyelash.
Before she can raise the card to the wrong scanner, I scoop her up into my arms and carry her to the end of the hall. “You are a pain in the ass, and I am so fucking in love with you, it’s stupid.”
“Ha! Yeah, you are!” She starts making out with my ear lobe. It feels really, really good, but I put her down on the floor, take her hand with the key card in it, and hold it up to the scanner on the door.
The handle clicks, and I kick the door open, guiding her inside, dropping her shoes and handbag to the floor, walking her back up against the opposite wall. Her bridesmaid dress is shiny and smooth and the fabric hugs her curves and the color isapparently called quartz, but it is the exact color of her labia and that has made things very difficult for me today. “I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you look stunning tonight,” I tell her.
“I know.”
Finally my mouth crashes against hers, starving for connection. Her tongue tastes like chocolate and strawberries and champagne and sass. She’s humming the tune to “Summer Nights,” and my cock is wide awake now, remembering how it feels when she hums as it’s touching the back of her throat. I groan at the thought. “Turn around so I can unzip you.”
She catches my lower lip between her teeth, tugs on it the tiniest bit, and then turns around like a good girl. Only she’s doing little dance choreography moves like hip bumps and arm scoops, and I can’t grab the little zipper pull to unzip her.
“Stay still so I can get you naked,” I say in my most commanding voice.
It works. She goes still. I unzip her, letting the dress cascade to the floor, around her ankles. She isn’t wearing a bra, only a pair of black lace panties that accentuate the curves of her ass in a way that makes me forget words.
I grunt and start to remove my suit jacket.
She turns to face me and says, “Keep your suit on! I want you to fuck me in a suit.”
I nod, staring at her amazing tits while unbuttoning my pants.
“Wait, no, I want you naked!”
