by Nina West
Carefully, I slip my index finger down the front of her smooth mound and through her slick middle. She parts her legs even more, as if inviting me inside her.
I slide two fingers in.
It’s my undoing. My head falls back as all the muscles in my stomach, my groin, my legs constrict and my balls tighten. Pulling Georgia’s head tight against me, I thrust as I spill into her mouth.
Becca suddenly steps away from me, my fingers slipping out from her.
And I find myself flanked by two truck-sized bouncers.
~ ~ ~ ~
“It’s almost impossible to get kicked out of Sin. Well done, buddy.” Connor slaps my shoulder as we stumble through our front door and into the dark living room, Georgia and Sherrie following closely, giggling as they cling to each other’s arms.
Despite the abrupt end to things at Sin—my pants barely done up as I was escorted out— I would have been satisfied and called it a night. But Sherrie’s mouth found its way around my cock the second we climbed into the cab and now I need another release.
“I’m this way.” Connor leads Georgia toward his bedroom, giving me a thumbs-up. I’m not even sure when it was decided that we’d swap and who made that decision, but it seems everyone’s game.
“You’ve got paint on your shirt.” Sherrie’s hand slides over my sleeve where I’m covered in orange from Becca.
“Fuck. I hope that comes out.” It’s one of my favorite shirts.
“You should throw it into the wash right now.” She begins fumbling with the buttons, her lips moving for my mouth.
I step out of her reach. “Here, let me do that. My room’s down there, on the right. I’ll be there in a sec.”
She takes three staggering steps toward the hallway with a giggle, using the couch’s back to guide her.
I head for the closet off the main room that holds the washer and dryer. I peel my shirt off and chuck it in a laundry pod. It’s too dark and I’m too drunk to read all the controls, so I hope I’m doing this right.
“What the hell!” A female screams.
Shit.
I stumble down the hall, tripping over the heels, dress, and panties that are strewn along the floor, all the way to the end, to find Ryan’s door wide open and a completely naked Sherrie scampering out.
Granted, the condo is an odd design, with Ryan’s bedroom door at the end of the hall and mine kitty-corner to it. Still, it’s not hard to figure out. “Your other right.”
Sherrie giggles as she darts across the hall and into my room. I dare hazard a glance into Ryan’s room to find the bedside lamp on and Ryan sitting upright in her bed, her scowl full of venom.
“Sorry about that.” I close the door and head into my room before I feel the sharp edge of her tongue.
“Who was that?” Sherrie’s lying on my bed, her legs spread wide, her fake, plump breasts sitting prettily, watching me strip off my pants. She’s got a nice body, as nice as Georgia’s, I’d guess. I doubt this will take long. And then what? How am I going to get rid of her? I don’t want to wake up next to this girl. Why did we bring them back here?
“Roommate.” I tear open the fresh box of condoms and fish one out, ripping the foil packaging with my teeth.
“I don’t think she liked me climbing into her bed, naked.”
“I can’t imagine why. Turn around.”
“Aren’t you going to get me off first?” Sherrie gives me an exaggerated pout and runs her fingers along her core as if to taunt me.
I seize her by the hips and flip her over. Pulling her up onto her knees, I climb onto the bed behind her. “Don’t worry. You’ll get off.” I made it a personal challenge, figuring out exactly how to get Tasha to orgasm every time. Sherrie can’t be that much different. Plus, I don’t stick my tongue between just anyone’s legs. Definitely not a woman whose friend just sucked my cock in a bar, and who I won’t be seeing after tonight.
With one hard thrust, I’m inside her.
She cries out.
“You good?”
“So good,” she moans, turning her face to the side. This angle—ass up—is one of my favorites. Though, asses in general are my favorite. “Are you good?”
I close my eyes and smile as I move my hips, pushing in and out of her with ease. I’ll admit, Tasha or not, this feels fucking good.
The headboard begins to bang against the wall. I’ll need to pull it out tomorrow so that doesn’t happen again. There’s not much I can do about the frame though, creaking noisily with each thrust.
Sherrie doesn’t seem to notice or care, her cries and moans coming more frequently and loudly each time I plunge into her. It took me a minute to find that spot deep inside her, but now that I have, I angle so I slam into it mercilessly.
“Oh my God! I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m....” Coherent words fail her and soon she’s crying out with her orgasm. The muscles in my stomach tighten with anticipation at my own release, which isn’t here yet thanks to all the booze.
An angry fist pounds against the wall on the other side, making me slow.
Ryan’s voice is muffled but loud enough to understand. “You are so full of shit! No one’s that good!”
Sherrie giggles through her pants, her body limp. “I guess you haven’t fucked her yet, then. She wouldn’t be saying that otherwise.”
No, I haven’t. And I can’t see that changing. Her pussy probably has teeth.
Still, I can’t help but smile at what my dick registers as a challenge. Setting one foot on the floor, I hook my arms around Sherrie’s thighs and lift her slight body right off the mattress.
“Oh my God,” she pants. “You’re so deep.”
“You ready to prove my roommate wrong?”
~ ~ ~ ~
The clock shows twenty minutes have passed by the time I unload into my condom, my body coated in a sheen of sweat, my chest heaving, my muscles exhausted.
Sherrie came two more times and is now nothing more than a limp body before me. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk.” Her voice has turned raspy.
No sooner does the last squeak of the mattress sound than my door opens and Connor appears in his boxers.
“Come on, man....” I’m still inside her.
Connor doesn’t even pretend to apologize. “We’ve gotta get up in a few hours for work, remember?”
I frown. Tomorrow is Saturday. We don’t have to work.
He sets the clothes Sherrie scattered down the hall onto the dresser. “Your cab will be here in five minutes. You should get dressed. Georgia’s waiting for you.”
I struggle to hide my smile.
Perfectly planned. I think Connor may be my soul mate.
~ ~ ~ ~
“You’ll call us?” Both Sherrie and Georgia clumsily paw at my bare chest. They’re likely going to pass out before the cab actually makes it home. Hopefully they don’t puke.
“Sure.” I turn my head just as Sherrie leans in, and I end up with a sloppy kiss on my cheek. At least Georgia doesn’t bother.
“I’ll walk ’em down. Make sure they get in their car safely.” Connor trails them out in his boxers, throwing me a thumbs-up on his way past.
And I stagger back toward my bedroom, fully intending to do a face plant.
But Ryan is standing in her doorway, her arms folded over her chest, her hair a wild mess, and hate in her eyes. “You’re nothing like my brother, right?”
“Can we do this tomorrow, please?”
“Do what?”
“This thing where I accidently offend you and then you yell at me and storm off.”
“You call what happened tonight ‘accidental’?” Her hazel eyes flare. And here I thought she couldn’t look angrier. “Your whore climbed into my bed. Naked.”
“She got confused.” So confused that she swapped guys halfway through, I want to say, but I don’t.
“That doesn’t mean it’s okay!”
I hold my hands up in a sign of surrender. “You’re right, it’s not. I
’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Until tomorrow night, with the next whore that can’t tell the different between right and left.”
“I’m not gonna be doing this every night.” I don’t think I can handle it. The familiar tingling of regret is settling in. I can’t help but feel as though I’ve cheated on Tasha, even though I know she’s with other guys.
“Bullshit.” She shakes her head. “I work all day and I have class four nights a week. Now I have a shit ton of school work to do this weekend. Some of us don’t get to spend our days drinking and partying. We have to use our brains.”
“I said I was sorry. What else do you want me to say? ”
“That you won’t bring home whores!”
“She wasn’t a whore.”
The look on Ryan’s face says she believes differently.
“I might need to get laid every once in a while. Don’t tell me Connor doesn’t bring home girls.”
“He’s at the opposite end of the condo. I have to share a wall with you!”
Fair enough. “I’ll be more quiet next time.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “It’s 2:00 a.m. and I just had to listen to some drunk chick scream—practically in my ear—for the past half hour. Now I’m going to be exhausted. And don’t tell me this isn’t going to happen a lot. Neither of us are dumb enough to believe that.”
I sigh. This is exactly why I don’t want female roommates. “Look, I’ve barely looked at another girl since Tasha dumped me and I wasn’t planning on bringing anyone home tonight. It just... happened. I’ll do my best to keep it to a minimum, but I won’t commit to living like a monk. Okay?”
I could be mistaken, but I think I see sympathy flash through Ryan’s eyes. She pauses for a long moment. “Maybe I could give you my schedule for when I’m extra busy and you can work around that.”
I burst out in laughter. Is she serious? “I’m not fucking on your schedule, Ryan.” My eyes drop to scan her bare legs. They’re short but they’re shapely beneath that oversized, unflattering T-shirt. “Not unless you’re the one in my bed.”
She snorts. “As if.” But her body betrays her, her gaze flickering downward over my chest, her lips parting with a sharp inhale. She gives her head a shake. “I’m not into your kind.”
“My kind?” I smirk.
She sets her jaw. “The kind with no ambition and very few standards.”
I don’t like her tone or her words. They’re laced with disdain, like she’s too good to be with me. I don’t bother bringing up the fact that I have a business degree. I’m guessing she’d somehow use it to prove her point, how a guy with a degree is doing manual labor at a hotel because he realized he’d rather use his hands than sit in an office. “That’s right. You like accountants. They’re all so honorable, right?”
Pain flashes in her eyes.
Bringing him up was a dick move. I open my mouth to apologize—
“You need a shower. You reek.” Her nostrils curl with disgust.
I can’t help myself. “That’s because I just finished fucking a woman into three orgasms.” I take a step closer to her. “Have you ever been fucked like that?” Is Ryan quiet or does she scream when she comes? She doesn’t take a step back, trying to stand her ground.
“Of course I have.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” I chuckle all the way to my bed.
Chapter 5
“Ready?” Connor hollers from the living room.
I grab my wallet and keys from the top of my dresser. I don’t know why I even bother with my keys. I’m always with Connor. We’ve become attached at the hip.
Ryan’s door opens just as I’m stepping out of my bedroom. It’s the first I’ve seen of her since our 2:00 a.m. confrontation on Friday night. It’s now Sunday night. “Hey, what time do you need the shower in the morning?” she asks, not a hint of the usual venom in her voice.
“My alarm goes off at 6:20.”
“Great. Have a good night.” She ducks into her room and closes the door without another word.
All right then....
Maybe she’s learning how to deal with her heartache.
Maybe she isn’t such a shrew, after all.
~ ~ ~ ~
I knock on the bathroom door. It’s six thirty. She knew I needed to hop in the shower ten minutes ago in order to get to work on time. So why the hell did I hear the shower start at six fifteen?
This is intentional.
And she’s not answering.
I bang on the door. “Come on, Ryan!”
Connor staggers into the kitchen, a little rough around the eyes after our late night at the bar down the street, watching the game. But he’s clean and in uniform, coffee in hand, ready to go. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Your sister is being as sweet as ever, that’s what’s goin’ on.” She’s gonna make me late.
“Use my bathroom.”
I’m about to concede, but.... “No! Fuck this!” I like my razor and my shampoo and my soap. She’s just doing this to piss me off. I pound on the door. “If you don’t answer me in five seconds, I’m gonna assume you’ve slipped and fallen, and I’m gonna kick this door down! Consider this fair warning. One! Two! Three!—”
The shower shuts off.
Seconds later, the door opens and Ryan steps out, still in her pajamas, her hair dry, a book tucked under her arm.
What the…. “You didn’t even take a shower.”
She lets out an exaggerated yawn. “Oops! Silly me, I can’t believe I forgot to actually get in!”
I feel my face screw up. “You forgot to get in?”
She shrugs innocently.
“And let me guess: you forgot that I needed to shower for work at 6:20 a.m., like I told you yesterday when you asked?”
“Whoops! Totally slipped my mind. I guess I was just so tired after losing all that sleep this weekend. You know, with all the whores.”
“That was just Friday night. And they’re weren’t whores!”
She strolls past me and into her room, kicking the door shut behind her.
I turn to Connor, who’s devouring a banana and grinning. “Is she for real? Did that just happen?”
“You two kids better figure out how to get along. And hurry up. We’ve gotta go soon.”
Fuck. I duck into the bathroom and turn on the tap. I wait for the hot water.
But there’s none left.
~ ~ ~ ~
“It’s impossible to get kicked out of Sin!” Dean, a lanky guy, exclaims around a mouthful of his sub sandwich, thin strands of shredded lettuce spilling out of his mouth as he talks.
“And yet superstar here managed it, all by himself.” Connor’s heavy hand falls on my shoulder. “I can’t decide if it was the blow job or the fact that you started to finger the cocktail waitress that pissed the bouncers off more.”
A raucous chorus of applause and laughter erupts in the staff area behind the Wolf hotel—a simple fenced-off area of picnic tables and a few planters—as the guys we’re taking our lunch break with react to Connor’s retelling of Friday night.
“And then what happened?” Lopez, a short Hispanic guy from customer service whose first name evades me, asks. He seems like a decent guy. The kind of guy who still lives at home and does everything his mother asks him to do, including marry the good Catholic girl from down the street that she approves of. I’m guessing she wouldn’t approve of him sitting with our lot.
“We left.” I ball up the wrapper of my own sandwich and chuck it into the trash can, then lean back on the park bench and revel in the warm sun. Unlike Connor, I’m not one to fuck around and talk about it.
“Yeah, but—”
“Come on, now.” I nod toward a group of female employees sitting at the table next to us, pretending not to listen. They don’t need to hear a bunch of pigheaded crew guys talking about blow jobs and fingering.
“And then we swapped,” Connor goes on to say. “And damn, did that girl know how to suck
a cock.”
“So you basically had three chicks that night?” Lopez looks at me with awe.
“In one form or another,” Connor answers for me.
A group of women emerges through the back door, and the guys shift their focus off the topic of me and my dick to ogle them.
“How the fuck did Poindexter manage to land her?” Franco, another crew guy, asks, basically echoing what Connor said on Friday night as we all watch the willowy blonde I saw Friday night at Sin stroll out, a flowery lunch bag dangling from her fingers, sharing a secretive laugh with her friends as they take a nearby table.
And so it begins, the gossip, the speculation. Which means Ryan would have heard about her ex by now. I wonder how she’s taking it.
“I’d do that.” Connor tips his head back to finish his can of Coke. He lets out a loud belch, earning a few frowns from their table. Of course, most of those frowns melt away when they see who it’s coming from.
“How do you get away with that?” Franco mutters, shaking his head at Connor.
“Same way I get away with asking a girl if her friend can join.” Connor’s face splits into a wide grin, showing off his dimples. “I’m just so damn irresistible.”
Another round of laughter erupts.
The exterior door swings open and Ryan steps out, her brown paper bag in hand. Heads automatically turn. Her cheeks flush as she quickly seeks us out and begins walking over.
“She actually eats lunch with you?” I ask.
“Never.” Connor grabs the trash from the space between us on the bench, making room for her. “Baby sis! What a pleasure!”
“Shut up. I’m only three months younger than you.”
She wipes the bench with a readied napkin before sitting down, making me shake my head.
“What? I just picked my blouse up from the dry cleaners.” Her gaze skims my dusty pants, telling me without words that she thinks I’m dirty. At least she doesn’t sneer.
The other guys have drifted off into their own conversations—which, thankfully, are too low for us to overhear because I’m sure they’d only prove her theory that the crew is a bunch of STD-riddled cavemen.
She quickly unpacks her lunch onto her lap. Yogurt, apple, grapes, and a cheese sandwich on some sort of thin, dark bread that is probably healthy but looks like cardboard. I’ll bet she’s as predictable as the sun setting each night when it comes to her lunches.