Page 8 of When It's Us
She walks her fingers down my abdomen, and I stop her by grabbing her hand short of cupping my cock. Her eyes flutter to mine questioningly, but it doesn’t last long before she pulls her hand free tostretch.
I crane my neck, looking around for my phone to check the time, but I don’t see it.
“Last night was…” the blonde starts, dreamily.
“Sofucking hot,” the brunette mumbles around a smile.
Speaking of hot, it’s fucking stifling in here. I shift to sit up, and the blonde protests with a whine.
“Do you have to go?” She leans on her elbows, watching me with her chin propped in her palm. I climb out from under them both on the makeshift bed and stand. The brunette runs her eyes over me with a sleepy grin. I swipe up my shorts, stepping into them and pulling them up.
“We could get breakfast. A bunch of us are going hiking later,” she says.
Yeah, that’s a negative. I don’t eat with women I fuck.
I gaze around for my shirt and turn back to the blonde. Jennifer? Jessica? No, that’s not it. Something else… Whatever, it doesn’t matter—something vibrates against my thigh. My phone is in my pocket, thank God. Pulling it out, I see several missed calls and texts from my brother, Hank.
I spot my shirt, buried halfway under the blankets. I grab it and turn it right side out.
“This wasgreat…” I pause, emphasis on the ‘great’ as I stall for the blonde’s name. Flicking a glance her way just in time to watch her face transform into a soft pout—it’s not as attractive as she undoubtedly thinks it is—I try and puzzle it out.
Also, I’m starving. When was the last time I ate? Noon, yesterday?
“Jennica,” she supplies, and I mentally congratulate myself on beingreallyfucking close. My stomach growls.
I throw my T-shirt over my head and shove my feet into my slides, digging around in my pockets for my keys and wallet.
When I look back at her, her bottom lip pushes out again, and she lets the blanket drop to her waist as she sits up, perky tits on display. The brunette reaches over and runs her fingers overJennica’s nipple, a giggle escaping her as she looks up at me through her lashes.
But I’ve already fucked them both in a bus full of people—bits and pieces are slowly coming back to me—and although I had a decent time, the whole situation is making my skin itchy.
I’ve been with two chicks before, but there are God only knows how many people in this bus andthatis most definitely not my style. Neither is fucking the same chick twice.
It’s the same old song and dance. Get my dick wet, get out. I can’t remember shit from last night. That’s a little concerning, considering it’s the same thing that happened last weekend.
Well, notexactly, it was only one chick, Jamie, I think? And we were on her old man’s boat, not a bus.
But as I stare at both women now, the shine long gone so to speak, my dick doesn’t so much as twitch as I watch brown-haired whatsername fondle Jennica’s tits. I scrub a hand down my face.
My siblings call me a whore, and I guess I am. If not wanting to sleep with the same chick for the rest of my life makes me a whore, so be it. My sister Norah says I like the chase, but jokes on her because I’ve never chased a woman in my life. I’ve never needed to. Never wanted to either. Well, not in the last twelve years, anyway. My phone vibrates with another text message.
Jesus,this fucker is persistent.
“You sure I can’t ride your dick again before you leave?” Her gaze turns flirty, but instead of turning me on, it makes my gut tighten. “Or Marissa can eat me out while you fuck her again.”
Ah, Marissa.I was thinking Miranda.
My phone buzzes in my pocket again.
Jennica crawls to the edge of her pallet bed and sits on her knees. Running a hand up my thigh, she smiles lazily at me and grips my cock through the thin material of my shorts. “Or I can suck you off this time. People say I’m the best at it.”
Doubtful.
I give her a strained smile, backing up a step, and she blushes, dropping her hand to her bare thigh. “Tempting,” I say, “but I’ve gotta go.”
Careful where I put my feet, I turn to leave. Someone’s snoring softly in the corner, a bare foot sticking out from under a blanket. The air’s thick with sleep and leftover takeout. Two girls near the back aren’t asleep, though—they’re watching me. One shifts just enough to whisper to the other, and both flash me a knowing look. I don’t know how many bodies are crammed in here, but right now, it’s one too fucking many.
“Maybe we’ll see you around,” Jennica says. When I turn back, she pushes up to stand, all the bronzed skin on her tight little surfer body appearing even more tanned than last night.
