Page 40 of In For a Penny
Okay, I definitely did. I don’t know what came over me.
He was just as drunk as I was, and I had caught him by surprise. Can’t blame him for not being able to...ahem...perform.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Okay, I choose to believe you,” he says suspiciously, pulling on a pair of black underwear.
Is underwear really necessary? Can he not just stay naked a bit longer? Just for comfort purposes, of course. Notjustbecause he has a fantastic ass. Because he does. Have a fantastic ass, I mean.
Fantastic everything, really. Top notch.
“But let me tell you that this is not a common thing for me. If you’re ever interested in pursuing this, I will make it worth your while.” He smiles lasciviously.
And just like that, he’s back, ladies and gentlemen.
I roll my eyes at him. “Can you just shut up, give me a shirt, and point me in the direction of your bathroom?”
He pulls a t-shirt from his dresser and throws it at my face. I glare at him, pulling it over my head as I walk out toward the bathroom, giving him a nice view of my ass in my black lace panties. I can feel his eyes following me out of the bedroom.
Whatever.
The woman in the mirror of the bathroom is unrecognizable. I look like death.
My cat-eye is completely smudged all over my face, my hair is a rat’s nest, and my lips are swollen—from kissing Oliver?
His shirt smells nice, though—like citrus and sandalwood.
I splash cold water on my face and wipe off any smudged eyeliner. Pulling Oliver’s brush through my hair, I think through the possibility ofactuallygoing through with this. He seems pretty chill about the whole thing. Heisa good friend, and I highly doubt Oliver is the type of guy to stop talking to me after. If it were any other person, I think that things could become weird. I mean, we see each other every day. There is a high probability of it being incredibly uncomfortable, but not with him.
The more I think about it, I just don’t get the feeling that Oliver is that kind of guy. There would be no feelings involved. I don’t think I would have another Josh scenario on my hands. It would have to remain casual.
Huh.
“No, no. Too weird,” I say to myself out loud, shaking my head.
Even so, I squirt toothpaste on my index finger and attempt to brush my teeth with it. Something is better than nothing, and if my hormones take over, I don’t want to be caught off guard by having morning breath. It has been a long time since I’ve had sex. Three, maybe four months?
Sometimes you just need sex—like cracking your neck.
I quietly head back to his room, tip-toeing the whole way to avoid waking up his roommates and thus having more witnesses to this entire thing.
The sun is rising, so there’s light spilling in through the windows. When I walk back into the bedroom, I can see Oliver is back in bed, hands behind his head, eyes closed. Not sure whether he’s awake or asleep, I slip quietly back under the covers. He opens his eyes and groans. “You look so hot in my shirt.”
I roll my eyes at him and laugh. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Only the hot ones I want to have sex with.” He laughs, and I chuckle, rolling my eyes at him.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
“Shut up and go to bed. I’ve only slept, like, two hours.”
He huffs and rolls on his side. “Fine. Goodnight.”
I roll over, facing the opposite side so I don’t have to look at him.
I mean, what would be the worst part? We’re both consenting adults, right? We both want this.
And I miss sex. Really miss sex.
Did I mention it’s been four months?
