Page 3 of Pieces of Us
“Sorry, but you’re gorgeous.”
She lowers her eyes and purses her lips. “How many other women have you said that to this evening?”
“You’re the only one. I promise.”
“Mmmhmmm. What’s your name?”
“Oliver.” I give her my middle name. It’s what I usually use with women I hook up with. I almost regret saying it because ifwe have a good time tonight, I already think I might want to see her again.
“I’m Melonie.”
“Nah, I’ve already decided your name is bubbles.”
Her lips form a smile, and she shakes her head like I’m crazy. I think she secretly likes the nickname, though. We continue to dance, one song leading to I don’t know how many. At one point, she turned so her ass was grinding against my dick, and I thought I was going to die. With her ass against me and my hands at the curve of her full hips, it only causes images of taking her from behind to run through my mind. I know she felt me hard against her. Then she had bent over, and the damn woman looked over her shoulder at me, smiling.
We make a sorry attempt to share light conversation over the loud music. Dance clubs aren’t the most conducive environment to hold solid conversation, but I learn she’s originally from Philly and she’s a CPA. If she’s an accountant, she must be as smart as she is hot. I just tell her I’m in Marketing; I don’t tell her I work for the Bruins. When I first started with them, I thought it would be a flex to tell women I work for the team, but quickly found out that some would try to use me to get to players.
I ask her if she wants to take a break for a drink and she nods, so I place my hands on her hips, and we maneuver our way through the crowded dance floor. Her friend hasn’t left her seat by the bar, but now she’s not alone. She’s talking to a guy, and it has me hoping that means I can spend more time with bubbles without her scrutiny. She makes me nervous.
I order a round of drinks for the four of us, but before the bartender leaves to make our drinks, bubbles stops him. “And we’ll have four shots of tequila, too. Chilled, fully dressed.”
I lean into her ear. “Shots, huh?”
When she turns her face toward me, the smell of her shampoo hits me as her hair passes by my face, causing my cock to jumpagainst the zipper of my jeans. “I’m having fun! Are you scared, pretty boy?”
Her eyes are sparkling. “Not scared at all, bubbles. Fully up for the challenge.”
This time, she leans to my ear, her breasts pressed against my arm. “Oh, I know you’re ‘fully up’.”
I wrap my arm around her waist to hold her in place against me. “You’re trouble, but you know that, don’t you?”
She bites my earlobe, and I have to hold back a moan. “You’d like to find out, wouldn’t you?”
I lower my hand to her ass, squeeze, and she sucks in a breath. “I have a good feeling you’re going to let me.”
She shrugs with a playful smirk on her face, dismissing my answer, and leaves my side as our drinks are delivered. She hands me one of the shots and takes one for herself. G and her guy pick up theirs, and we raise our glasses.
Bubbles clears her throat. “To the ones we love, to the ones we hate, and to the ones we think of when we masturbate.”
I choke on my spit as the two women tap their glasses on the bar top and down their shots. G’s guy just stands with a shocked expression on his face. I laugh and follow the girls’ lead, feeling the burn of the tequila down my throat.
I send a text to the guys to not wait for me if they want to leave. Jax sends a thumbs-up emoji, Marcus just answers “okay.” Bubbles and I return to the dance floor, and I feel a little guilty not hanging with the guys, but I really like this woman. I’m sure they’ll understand. She’s hot as fuck, funny and flirty. As we start dancing again, she’s closer, touching me more. Her hands roamacross my chest, down my arms, and she links her fingers with mine. I just hope it’s because she feels this connection as much as I do, and it’s not the result of the shots we just took.
“You’re fun, pretty boy.”
“Right back at you, bubbles.” I look into her eyes. “You’re not allowed to have any more drinks.”
She almost looks offended. “Why?”
“Because when I ask to leave with you, I want you to say yes because you want to, not because of liquid inspiration.”
Her movements slow, and she stares into my eyes. “I’m not drunk.”
“I know. But if you have another drink, I won’t feel comfortable going home with you. And if we leave together, I want you to remember me fucking you senseless when we wake up tomorrow morning.”
Her eyes grow big, and she rests her arms on my shoulders. My hands fall to her hips. There’s the slightest moment of hesitation before she moves her face closer to mine.
“I want to kiss you so bad right now, bubbles.”
