Page 27 of The Bad Girl List

“What kind of problem?” Her hand tightens on my cock, making me groan.

“My mom–fuck, that feels good–my mom keeps trying to set me up on blind dates. I need a date for my family dinner on Sunday so she’ll lay off me.”

“Are you proposing a trade?” Her hand stops rubbing me as she pulls back to look at me.

“Forget about it.” I dip my hand down the front of her underwear, hoping I can persuade her to keep going with her hand. “It was a stupid question.”

“No, it wasn’t stupid, I just can’t tell if you’re serious.” She breaks off with a gasp as I slide a finger through her warm folds and pluck at her clit.

“I’m serious if you’re serious.” I rub her a little harder, loving the way her breath quickens as she squirms against me.

“You’ll have sex with me if I agree to be your date on Sunday?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I lean forward and nip gently at her neck.

“Yeah, okay.” Her hand starts to rub me again, making me wish we were already naked.

I force myself to slow down and look at her. Dom seems like a nice person. I don’t want her to wake up with regrets in the morning.

“You’re drunk,” I say. “Are you sure this is the kind of decision you want to make when you’re drunk?”

“I don’t think I could make a decision like this when I’m sober.” She shifts so that she’s completely in my lap, her legs wrapped around me.

I have to make sure. “Tell me you want this. I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me.”

“Are you deaf or something?” She tackles my fly with both hands. “What does a girl have to do to …” Her words trail off into a pleased moan as she yanks open my fly and plunges her hand down the front of my boxers.

The little sanity I have left is shredded. I grab the front of her–my–shirt and yank. Buttons pop off. I grab Dom by the hips and spin us both around, pressing her back into the pile of bar towels. Her breasts spill out, creamy in the darkness.

All my attention homes in on them as she pushes my jeans and boxers past my hips. Good thing Thomas always parks his precious car way in the back in an effort to keep it pristine. Otherwise, I’m sure we would have been spotted by now. Although based on the raging inferno in my cock right now, I’m not sure a crowd of paparazzi would have stopped me from taking Dom.

I go for her breasts, intent on pulling one of those perfect nipples into my mouth and sucking hard enough to make her moan.

Right as I do, I smash my head into the lid of the trunk.

I hit it so hard that I see stars. I slip, one hand landing on Dom’s stomach.

A sharp whuff comes out of her, and then–“Oh, God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

She rolls sideways and half stumbles, half lurches out of the trunk while I clutch my forehead. Her eyes are wide as she pauses to glance back at me.

“Are you okay?” she says, right as I say, “I’m such a clumsy shit, are you okay?”

“Oh, God.” She bends double and scurries out into a dark row between the grapevines. A second later, I hear the unmistakable sound of someone puking up numerous Cosmopolitans.

“Dom.” Still rubbing at my throbbing head, I hurry after her, barely remembering to get my dick back into my pants.

I find her holding onto a vine, bent over as she heaves. “Dom, are you–”

She heaves again, more vomit splashing onto the ground.

I hurry back to the car, reaching into the back seat and rummaging around until I find what I’m looking for: one of Thomas’s half finished water bottles.

I hustle back to Dom, cursing myself for being such a dumbshit. What sort of idiot gives himself a concussion and makes his date vomit at the same time? They must have dumbshit awards for this type of thing.

I find Dominique on her knees in the dirt, palms pressed against her thighs.

“Hey.” I kneel beside her and set down the water bottle, reaching around to pull the shirt closed. “You okay?”

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