Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
nineteen
dallas
“You know when your dick tingles the second someone is turning you on? That’s common sense leaving your body.”
– Duke Colter
“Oh, this one is easy.” Ryann puts the card at the bottom of the stack. “Nothing.”
Ouch.
That hurts.
Kind of.
“We’re not partners, but would it kill you to say something nice?” The words slip out of my mouth, making me sound needy and overeager for compliments.
Ryann surprises me by not teasing me just then. Instead, she studies me from her new spot on the bed. She’s farther away now, having plopped down on the end after she went to pee, out of reach but still fantastic to look at.
Those tits, though…
“All right, let me think about what I’d miss about you if you weren’t around.” She uses a wayward playing card to tap against her chin, drawing my attention to her full bottom lip.
Major DSL.
Dick. Sucking. Lips.
She would flay me alive if I said that shit out loud, but that’s what popped into my brain; it is what it is. The longer I know her, the more I’m learning.
“I think I would miss your ability to defuse tense situations.”
“What do you mean? Tense situations?”
“For example, I know you didn’t want to drive the neighbor girls back from the party and they were driving you nuts in the truck, so you were direct when they were asking those annoying questions in a way that—she pauses—“leaves little room for argument. Hence, defusing a situation.”
Huh. Never thought of it that way.
Most people—my teammates, my brothers, even my mom—accuse me of being an insensitive prick, not someone who gets to the point, who cuts the shit.
I’ll take her comment as a compliment.
I snatch a card from the truth pile.
“Have you ever stayed in the bathroom longer than forty minutes? If so, what were you doing?” I toss the card down. “Showering and jerking off.”
Boom.
Suck on that.
Ryann raises her brows. “Jerking off in the shower or showering and then jerking off?”
“Wanking in the shower, usually. Less mess.”
She nods.
Is there no tripping this girl up? Nothing I’ve said has shocked her and it’s grating on my nerves; not sure why I give a shit, but part of me wants to see that calm exterior crack.
Ryann chooses a dare.
“Demonstrate your favorite kind of PDA.” She bites down on her bottom lip. “My favorite kind of PDA…”
“You have to demonstrate,” I remind her gruffly, as if she didn’t just read that to me two seconds ago.
“This is a tough one because I haven’t been in a relationship long enough to show PDA.”
She was with Diego Lorenz for two months, which would have been considered the honeymoon phase—my ass that wasn’t long enough for him to be holding her hand, grabbing her ass, kissing her in public.
“The clock is ticking,” I tell her, impatient for her to involve me in whatever PDA she loves the most, manifesting some kind of shit—I don’t know, a blow job or a French kiss or whatever.
How gnarly would that be?
“I guess my favorite display of affection would be, um…someone holding my hand while we do something basic, like chilling on the couch watching TV. Or maybe just putting my hand on his thigh while we’re sitting there—or he’s driving. And vice versa.”
That sounds pretty fucking awesome to me, too.
“You’re not supposed to tell me, you’re supposed to show me.” I’m pressing her, damned if I’m not, suddenly desperate for Ryann to touch me.
Ever since I had my face between her legs, I can’t stop thinking about sex and blow jobs and sinking my cock into her pussy. She smelled so fucking good, felt so warm; I bet she was dripping wet.
I mentally force my eyes to stay trained on her face, their penchant for drifting down her body a battle I can’t seem to win.
Tits.
Pussy.
Tits…
Ryann moves on the bed, crawls to lie next to me, mirroring my pose: one hand behind the head, the other on a hip. Then, real slowly, that hand on her hip reaches across the comforter and makes contact with my thigh.
A smile forms on her lips.
My eyes move to her hand so close to mine, then go back to her face. Hand. Face. Hand.
It doesn’t move, does nothing, just sits there, branding heat through my boxer shorts and warming my skin.
“Your turn.”
Her smile doesn’t waver, and her hand doesn’t move from my thigh as I reach for a dare card, heart racing.
Clearing my throat, I read it loud and unflinching. “Kiss your partner somewhere other than their mouth.”
Yes.
Yes, yes, fuck yeah. Best card ever.
“Is that cool?” God forbid I make unwanted advances, even though we’re playing a game.
“Sure. It’s just a game.”
Liar.
What a damn liar she is.
This stopped being a game the second I went between her legs and pressed my nose against her pussy.
Ryann wanted me to go down on her as much as I wanted to go down on her; she’s just not man enough to admit it. Fuck Drew for interrupting—I can’t wait to chew his ass out for busting in unannounced. This isn’t Mom’s house, for fuck’s sake. What did he think I was doing in here, sitting on the floor playing with my LEGOs?