Page 52 of Book Boyfriend
Squatting down next to him, I try to think how I should get him inside. I feel around on his jeans until I think I sense keys. Then I try to slide my hand in his pocket to retrieve them.
“Well, hi there,” he says, sniffing my hair. “If you’re going to feel me up I think we should go inside first. The parking lot is kinda kinky.”
“I’m trying to get your keys, smart-ass.” I unbuckle his seat belt and he lifts his hips so I can reach them.
“Oooh,” he says in a sexy voice. “I like your hands in my pockets.”
I laugh as I try to figure out which room is his. The key says Room 221. It would have to be up the stairs. Figures. “Sweetie, can you walk if I help you?”
He opens his eyes and smiles at me. “Huh?”
I reach over him to get my purse and place it over my head, propping it on my waist. “Okay, lean into me. We’re going up the stairs.”
It’s a slow process, but I manage to get him standing. He’s wobbly, but he’s walking with his arm around my neck. It takes forever to get him up the first three. He’s funny when he’s drunk. He asks me if he can sit for a minute. When I tell him no, he pulls his lip down with his finger until he’s pouting. We make it up three more before he announces, “Wait . . . I got this.”
He straightens his posture and places his hands in the air. He hops up the last two steps without me and turns around proudly.
“Good job.”
He tries to bow but stumbles. I rush over to him and he leans on me as I unlock his door. “You’re hot, you know that?” he slurs.
I grin as I help him over to the bed. I close the door behind me and then fumble for a light switch. As light permeates the small room, I hear shuffling behind me. Fisher has removed his shoes and pants and seems to be caught up in his shirt.
I laugh and lean back against the door to watch him.
“Uh-oh,” he says like a little boy. As I stare at his muscular thighs and sculpted abs, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, he’s not a boy. He’sallman. “Let me help you.” His hands flop to his sides as I try to get his shirt off his head. He failed to unbutton it first, so I have to reach inside to get to the buttons. “How did you do this?”
Even though he can’t see, his hands seem to have no trouble finding my ass. I jump lightly when he squeezes my butt through my skirt.
“I wanna bite that.” He moans as he squeezes harder.
I manage to get to his button inside his shirt and lift it off his head.
“Hey,” he says when he sees me.
“Hey yourself. You’re very touchy-feely when you’re drunk,” I tell him as he places his face on my stomach.
“You smell so good.” He rubs his lips against my shirt and I almost stop breathing. Between him being almost naked, his hands on my ass, and his mouth so near my breasts I almost want to pretend he’s not drunk and have my way with him.
His fingers find the zipper of my skirt and he starts to pull it down.
“Mmm . . .” I gaze at the heavens and pray for strength as I reach behind my back to stop him. “You’re drunk.”
“Uh-huh. You’re hot. Did I say that already?”
“Yes, and thank you. But, you need to stop trying to undress me.” I swat his hand from my zipper and he immediately starts to tug at my shirt. His hand makes its way under my shirt and he touches my breast.
“Let me kiss those,” he whispers into my stomach.
Why did he have to get drunk? I want this to be sober Fisher right now. I feel like I should be curling my fake mustache in my fingers as I contemplate taking advantage of him. “No. You can’t. Not like this.”
“But, baby. I want you.” His hot breath on my stomach sends ripples through my spine.
“I want you too, but only when I’m sure you’ll remember in the morning.” I step out of his grasp and he reaches for me in the air. I pull back the covers and fluff his pillow. “Lie down.”
He scoots up on the bed until I can pull the covers down farther and as he lies back he grabs my arms and pulls me with him. “You want tops or bottoms?”
I laugh as I try to push off him. He’s strong. “You need to sleep.”
