Page 41 of Brassy Bigwig

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DIMITRIOS

As my lips finally touch hers again, I feel like a horny teenager who’s lost all sense of restraint. My hands find the hem of her dress, and I lift it to gain better access to her. Her hands dive into my hair, and she pulls tightly, as though she desperately needs something to hold onto. I fist the hair at the nape of her neck, getting better control over her, as my other hand dips beneath the lace stretched across her hips.

I can feel the rapid beating of her heart against my chest as I slide my fingers through her already dripping wet slit and deep inside of her. Swallowing her sweet moan, I can taste the alcohol on her breath, and I know I should stop this.

God, but that’s the last thing on earth I want to do right now.

With every ounce of willpower I have inside of me, I stop the onslaught from my fingers as I reluctantly break our kiss. I watch as her eyes shoot open, and a whine escapes her mouth.

“Are you drunk?”

“What?”

Her sluggish blink tells me everything I need to know. She’s had a lot more than the one shot I saw her take a moment ago.

Fuck.

I take a deep breath as I remove my fingers from inside of her. Not wanting to waste this small moment, I make a show of licking them clean before I pull her dress back into place.

“What are you doing?”

Rubbing a hand over my mouth and down my chin, I think about my next move. There’s no way she can go back out there. She’ll only get more drunk, and who knows what could happen to her.

“We’re leaving, let’s go.” I take her by the hand.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!”

She tears her palm away from mine instantly. After what just almost happened, I thought she’d come willingly. Then an idea hits me.

“Tell me you don’t want to go home with me, and I’ll leave you here. With that little boy you were just grinding your ass all over.”

“I was not.”

A sly smile crosses my face.

“Were you thinking about me while you were dancing with him?”

She swallows nervously but doesn’t answer. I step toward her, eliminating the space between us once again. Placing my hand—the one that was just three knuckles deep inside of her sweet pussy—against her cheek, she closes her eyes, relaxing into it.

“You were, weren’t you?”

I press my body against hers, and I know she can feel my rock hard erection against her stomach. She still doesn’t answer, but the feeble moan that escapes her throat is telling.

“Come home with me tonight, Chloe. No strings. No expectations. I just want to take care of you.”

Finally, her eyes open, giving me the answer I’ve been aching for.

* * *

Shelby tried to get her to stay. She slurred some not very nice things at me across the table when we went to say goodbye.

I deserved every one of them, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

Finally, the guy she was with told her that Chloe is an adult and can make her own decisions.

Maybe she’s actually found a smart guy for once.

---