Page 97 of Home Town Advantage
I smirk. “Says the man who gets off on burying his face in women’s asses.”
He chuckles. “I meant men. Assholesare hot for women.”
Champ raises his hand. “Not all men have stinky assholes.”
I let out a laugh, in part because it’s funny, but mostly because I’m loving that Champ has finally become comfortable enough with us to crack jokes.
We’re surroundedby the chatter of our friends in the booth of a noisy, music-filled club, yet I can’t hear anything except the rapid beating of my heart as I stare at Sulley. Her lips are painted red tonight and all I can think is that I want that lipstick on my cock.
She’s engaged in conversation, smiling and laughing along with everyone else. Why can’t she be like that with me in public? It hurts that she refuses to acknowledge our relationship.
I turn and look at Layla and Presley, who can’t keep their hands off each other tonight. I used to be disgusted by it. Now I’m jealous. I want to be able to sit here and touch my girl too. I want her to show me the unashamed love and affection that I see Layla giving Presley right now.
I’ve barely seen her over the past two weeks. We had our fight, and then the whole Kennedy thing blew up, and she was busy dealing with the aftermath. Her parents visited for a few days. She didn’t want me anywhere near them. Then the team had a long road trip. They only just returned.
It feels stifling when I can’t spend time with her. Like I can’t breathe properly.
Daylen elbows me. “Who pissed in your cornflakes? I thought you’d be happy to see her.”
“Fuck off,” I snap. “I’m just having a bad day,” I lie.
He gives me one of his goofy smiles while he runs his hands through the hair he’s once again cut. “Bad day? Do you want to hear about bad days? The airport in Vienna, Austria, has a counter solely dedicated to people whothought they were flying to Australia. Nowthat’shaving a bad day.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles. He always makes me smile. I mumble, “I’m not sure that’s someone having a bad day or them being a moron.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Truth.” He clinks his beer bottle with mine while nodding his head toward Sulley. “You’ve got this, stud. Ask her to dance. Slip her the tongue. Chacha with her chesticles. Give her the hot beef injection.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re a buffoon.”
He chuckles as he nudges me. “Go ahead. Get your groove on. Shake your booty. Bust a move. You’ll be seen down there, but you won’t beseen.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
He knows I never dance. I look down at the dance floor. There are a ton of people down there. Hmm, maybe he’s right. She and I could get lost in the group. This way, I could touch her. My fingers itch to do so.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and start typing.
Me: Miss me?
Her phone is on the table, so I see the moment her screen lights up. She picks it up and reads it before looking up at me. She exhales a deep breath before subtly nodding.
I type again.
Me: I miss talking to you. I miss kissing you. I miss feeling you in my arms. I miss being inside you.
God, I have zero chill when it comes to this woman. I’m so pathetic.
She looks down at her phone and closes her eyes. After several long beats, she opens them and begins typing. Her lips curl in amusement as she does.
I feel my phone vibrate and look down at it.
Sulley: What are you going to do about it? Throw me down on this table in front of everyone, Mr. Public Fornication? Will you lift my skirt and do filthy things to me right here in this club?
My girl is feeling frisky. All the blood in my body rushes south as I get a visual of doing just that. I have to adjust myself in my jeans. She notices, and her smile widens.
My eyes rake over her outfit. She’s in a short skirt and tank top with those thin spaghetti strap things. I don’t think she’s wearing a bra. She looks edible. I can’t help but lick my lips. She stares at my mouth while her cheeks redden, and she squirms in her seat.
I look down to type on my phone.
Me: Your face is red. I know you’re dripping for me, baby. Tell me, how wet are you right now?
