Page 7 of Necessary Roughness

Before I can reply, he has my hand in his and is pulling me through the mayhem. Bodies slide up against me—both male and female—as we thread through the suds, lights flashing and EDM music blaring all around. It’s like a whole different world to me; Bobby lives like a rockstar—a king with the world at his fingertips.

My foot catches something and I trip and fall to my knees. Bobby never lets go of my hand, and when I look up, get a full view of his…butt. And even though my heart is racing and I’m more uncomfortable than I’ve ever been, I have to admit that it’s a nice booty.

He’s wearing a thong—a legit thong—so his sculpted glutes are fully visible. It’s plump and athletic, with those little muscular divots on the sides. It’s not a bubble butt really; it’s just a nice tight butt, and as I get to my feet, I realize I’ve never even analyzed a guy’s body like this before.

“Squats and hockey,” he tells me.

“W—what?” I stammer, brushing wet hair from my eyes.

“That’s how you get a booty like that.”

He winks at me, causing my heart to flutter, then continues to pull me through the crowd until we reach a simple black door framing a panel of fogged glass. He waves an ID card attached to his thong, the door beeps and opens and he pulls me inside.

It closes, and the sounds of the party are instantly muted into the background. We’re in the dark; I can barely make out his muscular outline in front of me. There’s a click as Bobby turns on a soft paper lamp that bathes the room in a soft yellow glow. He’s smiling at me like a prince.

Shit…

“So,” he grins.

“So,” I reply.

“Want to rinse off?” he asks, raising an arm in the direction of the bathroom. I can’t help but notice the rippling muscles and bulging bicep vein.

“No thanks,” I tell him. “I don’t need you spying on me while I’m in the shower.”

I’m totally joking—just giving him some shit—but he seems to take me seriously.

“I’d never spy on you,” he replies. “I’d just tell you that if you want to shower, you have to do it with me.”

That’s it. I’ve had enough. Between being forced to come here by Charles, to having a crazy naked girl jump on me, to my hair and outfit being ruined by having champagne poured on me like I’m some ratchet chick out of a rap video, to Bobby Brodeur being…Bobby Brodeur, I’m about to lose my shit.

“You really are a cocky son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

There’s not even a single flicker of anger in his eyes. In fact, what I just said seems to please him.

“What’s your name?” he asks me.

“Natalie,” I reply. His eyes don’t waver; in fact, a light seems to shine within them.

“What?” I ask, feeling suddenly off kilter.

“You,” he replies simply.

Hmm… “What about me?” I ask. Bobby moves right in, slides a hand around my back and pulls me close.

“Everything.”

And then he kisses me.

5

Bobby

I may be cool on the ice, but I’m on fire as I crush my lips against Natalie’s. The warmth of her body against mine has my cock throbbing with lust as I wonder how she’s going to moan when I claim her.

The way she’s been trying to resist me all day just makes me want her more. Her hard-on-making curves are just the cherry on top. Natalie is a mouth-watering sundae, and it’s time I get a taste.

Despite all that shit she’s been talking, Natalie kisses me back—hungrily. Her tongue slides into my mouth and I cup her ass and squeeze—and what an ass it is. Baby got back! Instantly I wonder just how she’s going to look bent over while I take her from behind. I can’t wait to make those cheeks clap as I fuck her without mercy. Like the guys who face me on the ice, she’s not going to know what hit her.

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