Page 15 of Dirty Roxie
Ronan
Touching her is a mistake. I knew it would be even before I did it. That didn’t stop me. I felt bolstered after flirting with the server. And I wanted to get Roxie back somehow after she embarrassed me in front of the girl. What better way than to turn her on, and leave her hanging, as Americans say.
Except it’s backfiring. I’m enjoying this just as much as she is, if not more. Her skin is soft. Warmed by the sun, the muscles tight yet yielding under pressure. I can span the entirety of her back with my hands. She’s not a petite girl, she’s curvy, and I like that. But she’s smaller than she appears. It took having her here under my hands to realize that.
Maybe it’s her personality that makes her seem bigger. I shift in my seat slightly, trying to loosen the material around my hardening cock. Hoping it’s not obvious that I’m turned on. And, if the way her thighs are rubbing together, something I doubt she realizes she’s even doing, then she is too.
There’s no doubt about it. Sex with Roxie would be explosive. But I can’t go there. I can’t trust myself to be with women unless it’s women who I pay. And not because I can’t get a woman otherwise, but because they know what they are in for and my proclivities don’t bother them the same way they might a paramour or lover.
I move my hands down to the dip at her waist, and curve them around the sides slightly, using my thumbs along her spine.
“Ohmigod, Ronan,” she moans.
I doubt she meant to say that.
I love that she did.
I want to hear it again.
I want to hear it when I bury my cock deep inside her.
I watch as her muscles visibly relax under my touch. It’s heady. As I reach the top of her bikini bottoms, I’m tempted to go for her ass too. If ever the word supple is used to describe an ass, it should be Roxie’s. Because her ass is precisely that.
I plant my thumbs on her ass cheeks as I reach my fingers around to her hipbones. So close to her center, yet so far—
“Here you go,bandeja paisafor two, along with a side of avocado and tomato.” The server sets the plates down on the table next to us. Only now, instead of fantasizing about bendingherover the beach bar and taking her from behind, I’m cursing the day she was born and grew up to become a server at this damn resort. The server, which by delivering food and drinks, interrupts having Roxie’s compliant body under my hands. Even if compliant Roxie is an oxymoron. I will probably never have this chance again.
“Thank you,” I tell her as I sign the check with my assumed name, charging everything to our room.
“Oh god, that was amazing.” Roxie sits up, her face flushed. “Who knew you had such talented fingers?”
I smile tightly as I snap my napkin in the air before laying it across my lap. Roxie immediately digs into the fried plantains with her fingers.
“Ow, hot!” she says, pulling them back to blow on them.
“Blowing on a burn doesn’t help.”
“Maybe not, but I feel better when I do.”
“It’s why they invented utensils.”
“You confuse me,” she says, cocking her head to the side.
“How so?”
“You’re like all refined and polite on the one hand, right?”
I nod and cut my corn cake into smaller pieces.
“But, you’re also that same badass who rescued us from Andrei’s compound when we were buried.”
I shrug.
“And you can fly a jet.”
I smile, pleased that she remembers to reference it appropriately.
“I’ve heard you rip people to shreds over the phone and don’t even get me started on those magic fingers.” She gestures to my hands. “What else you got tucked up your sleeve?”
