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Second of all, how do you even get jealous ofclothing?
I’m being ridiculous. Nevaeh is just a woman, and no matter how much I like dropping to my knees for them and making them scream my name in pleasure, she’sjust a woman. I will get over this fascination.
You all agree with me on this, right?
“You know, when a woman is showing off her best moves to impress you, it’s impolite to let your mind drift somewhere else,” she says with a little laugh, and I bring my gaze down to hers.
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth when I spot the smirk on her face.
“Trust me, my thoughts may have drifted,mon ange, but you were still the center of my attention,” I admit, spinning her around once before bringing her back to my chest.
She grinds against me without hesitation, following the rhythm of the music with grace. Her arms fly backward so her fingers can run through my curls. My hands slip over her stomach and down her thick thighs, making her quiver in my arms.
My cock hardens in an instant.
And the beautiful tease in my hands doesn’t seem to have a clue what she’s doing to me.
A small voice in the back of my mind reminds me we shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be touching so openly, but all of the fucks I could have given were ground to dust when she started grinding her ass against my cock.
“Careful, Nevaeh, my self-control is slipping away,” I mumble into her ear. Her upper body starts shaking with a laugh, and she steps away from me before I have a chance to truly enjoy it.
She spins around and takes one more step away.
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” she replies with a smile before moving toward Scarlette and Valentina and leaving me to subtly readjust myself.
“Tripping all over yourself already?” my best friend asks as he approaches me, a beer in his hand.
We move to the side of the dance floor and out of the way.
“I’m not tripping all over myself.” James’ eyes drop to my crotch before he lifts them again to smile at me. “I’m horny. There’s a difference,” I say, realizing with horror that it’s been almost five months since I fucked anyone.
Five.
Fucking.
Months.
I raise my palm to my forehead to check if I have a fever because the only reason it would be this long since I’ve had sex is if I’m sick with the longest flu in the history of mankind.
“How long has it been? A few hours?” James teases, and I let out a small laugh that soon turns into a humorless sound while I question my entire fucking existence.
“Yeah, a few hours.” It’s a bold lie, one he sees through as he steps in front of me to scan my face.
“Oh my God, how long has it really been?” he asks, sipping his beer as he waits for my answer.
I pull my lips into a thin line, avoiding his inquiring gaze until he slaps my chest.
“Tell me,” he insists. I shake my head.
“A week.”
“Liar. There’s genuine panic in your eyes. It’s been longer.” I hate that smug look on his face.
“Fine, it’s been two weeks. Now, can you leave me alone?” James places his bottle on the table beside us, laughing.
“Just tell me the truth. You’re a horrible liar.”
“No.” I grind my teeth.
