Page 2 of Damaged
Giving her a half grin, I lift her and she wraps her legs around me. Her hands explore my upper body, as I free her tits from her dress. Sucking a hardened nipple into my mouth, she bucks against me, letting out a loud moan.
Sinking my fingers into her ass cheeks, I move to the other tit. She continues to moan, sinking her nails into my back. I need to fuck her. Just like this, pressed against the wall with her tits hanging out.
As I start to unbutton my jeans, the door flies open. “Brett, this wingman thing is really working. I’m leaving with Suzie,” Troy announces, before even noticing what the fuck I’m doing.
Layla screams and pushes out of my arms, covering herself quickly. “Troy, get the fuck out of here, man,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Oh damn, sorry. Sorry man. Just carry on,” he says, stumbling over his words as he rushes out.
Layla, on the other hand stands there with her arms crossed, giving me some evil looking eyes. “Your wingman. Seriously? You set me up,” she yells.
Christ. “Layla, come on. Does it really matter? You’re still turned on.”
“Was. I was turned on,” she shouts, rushing out the bathroom, letting the hard wooden door slam as it echoes through my ears.
“Troy I’m gonna fucking kill you,” I whisper, picking my shirt up to toss back on.
Grabbing a seat at the bar, I figure I’ll drown my sorrows. Maybe give Asher a call and tell him a real friend would get his ass down here.
“Is this seat taken?”
Turning my head, I can’t help the smile that breaks out. “Eva Chapman. How the hell are you?”
We met in middle school and she was always fun to hang out with when we were young. I’ve seen her around from time to time over the years, but come to think of it I haven’t seen her around in a while.
She looks damn good. Her long brown hair falls over her shoulders, leading right to her tits. Which look fucking amazing almost spilling out of her dress. That blue dress. Damn, what I wouldn't give to see what's underneath it. Shaking my head, I push away any sexual thoughts of Eva. She's just a friend.
Laughing, she sits down. “Better than you, considering I was in the ladies room and overheard.”
Groaning, I scrub my face. “Great.”
“I’m guessing you need a new wingman?” she asks, laughing again.
“Why you want the job?”
“Maybe. Maybe I do.”
