Chapter 8
Camel Toes and Creepy Creepers
-Gia-
Oh, good fuck!
I do a couple Kegels until my vagina involuntarily twitches. I cannot believe it. If I wasn't looking at him right now, I’d be convinced this was a joke. Sexy McFuck Pants is back.
"What?" Roman asks. "Something wrong?"
I think it's cute how he looks at himself, possibly trying to find any kind of problem. He's downright scrumptious. I shake my head because there’s nothing about the way Roman Blake looks right now that could ever be wrong, and I can't help but stare.
His hair is clean and it looks a thousand times better. It almost resembles the way it did when we were kids, sticking up in every direction with that cowlick on point. He runs his hands through his hair, shaking out the last bit of water left over from his shower. And his beard is gone. Well, almost. He must've realized that it was time to rid his face of that wooly mammoth and took a weed whacker to that thing. There's still a light dust of stubble covering his perfect skin but at least now you can see that sexy, chiseled, perfect jawline. His lips look even fuller now that the furry rodent has been eliminated.
The whore is stirring again, opening one eye, waving her white flag in surrender. I feel the same way. God have mercy, and the way he's dressed should be illegal.
His tight white T-shirt shows off the defining points of his muscled chest and arms. The worn denim covering his lower half is sinful, exposing the slight curve in his hips and the round shape of his ass. The black cowboy boots on his feet look worn, but the hottest thing on Roman right now isn't the t-shirt, the jeans or even his boots. No. The hottest thing he’s wearing is that black Stetson on top of his head. When I was younger, the cowboy look never appealed to me but Roman makes it look so fucking good.
When he coughs it brings my attention to his eyes. He gives me a slight grin and a cock of his brow. I gulp because that just did me in.
"You ready to go?"
I nod and squeeze my thighs together in hopes of keeping my vagina from exploding.
"Well then," he says, holding his arm out. "Shall we?"
There goes that white flag. The whore’s in a pile of goo. She slowly scrawls a message in the sand which effectively reads ‘Whore Down’.
I brush that irritating subconscious bitch off. I can't stop staring as we walk out of the house, intentionally walking behind him. It's like my eyes are permanently glued to his ass which, I might add, looks pretty damn juicy in those jeans. I need to stop because with my luck I'll probably trip over the air that separates the two of us. The whore notices and smirks. I know what she's thinking. I mentally beat her back with a bull whip and give her a good thump on the forehead. This is really not the time for the hussy to wake up and show herself. But damn it if he doesn't know how to work the whole cowboy look. He smells good too. All spice and woodsy. Apparently, he wants to walk to the Hillbilly Hoedown, and I say a silent thank you that I don’t have to hop on the back of the dirty death trap. I stay behind him as we continue down the narrow path. I don't mind. The view is fucking delicious.
In the distance I can hear loud music thumping, people laughing and carrying on.
Damn, look at the way his cheeks move under that denim.
"After you," Roman says, and all I want to do is lean into him.
I mutter a low thank you and take in my surroundings.
It's not the same house that I was at earlier this morning. This is much nicer. I wonder who lives here as I walk through a gate and stop dead in my tracks.
"Hey, Clarabelle! Ya made it!"
That’s it. I’m done, and right about now I’ve seen it all. Nothing I could ever do would ever take away the ungodly sight in front of me. Dirk, wearing only his boxers, which I might add have Pinocchio's face attached to the crotch with the nose proudly sticking out at attention, and he’s also wearing his high as hell cowboy boots with socks peeking out from the tops. Oh yeah, and a big ass straw hat planted firmly to his dome.
Jesus, I pray that you will watch over me tonight, and please don't let me catch whatever Dirk the Wooly Booger has. Please and thank you. And if you do this for me, I promise to be a good girl forever.
"Make yourself at home, Clarabelle. I gotta take a poop!
"Did he just say what I think he said?" I ask Roman.
When I turn to my left, I realize that my date is nowhere in sight. My heart begins to speed up as I look around. There aren't many people here, and the ones that are around aren't dressed like, or shall I say undressed like Dirk. These people are clothed and surprisingly look sane, but there's still no sign of Roman. My heart races toward the pit of my stomach when I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I take a deep breath and slowly turn around.
"I see ya haven't left yet. You remember what I told ya earlier, right?" It’s the redheaded Amazon, and she looks pissed with her brow arched toward the skies and her lips pursed. She eyes me up and down, looking like she might have a bad taste in her mouth as she lifts the neck of her beer bottle up to her lips. She takes a deep pull. "I will not see him hurt again. Got me?"
"Do you know where Roman is?" I ask, realizing that I can barely hear my own voice. “He was here a minute ago and now I can’t find him.”
"Yep," she replies, disgust still deep in her eyes.
The whore flips the redheaded beast a double bird.
"Whatever." My reply is short and anything but sweet, and I decide to take off and hunt Roman down myself. “I’ll find him without your help.”
I turn to walk away because I really have no interest in being anywhere near Trailer Park Trixie and head for the gate. When I place my hand on the handle I hear, "Wait." I take a deep breath because I seriously have the urge to slap the bitch. I look over at Jen. Her expression isn't as harsh as it was seconds ago and that mean mugging scowl she was sporting is gone.
"You sure you ain’t here to fuck Roman over?"
I cock a brow. My irritation is in full swing. She isn't going to break me, and as I look at her with determination in my eyes, I’m almost convinced that we finally have a silent understanding.
"Well, we need to do something about those," she says, looking at Roman’s old clothes hanging loosely from my body. "C'mon, follow me."
As soon as we enter Jen’s bedroom she starts rummaging through her dresser drawers, tossing gobs of material at me. I stare at the monstrosities. There’s little to nothing to a few of the pieces. Looking at a pair of shorts, I glance up at her and wonder where in the hell the woman stuffs everything. Her boobs are enormous and her butt is even bigger, and I’m pretty sure that pair of shorts looks like a thong on her.
"I'm not wearing these." I hold up a pair of what some might refer to as Daisy Dukes with various rips in them. “They look like mice have taken up residence in the crotch, and if you think I'm slipping my legs into these tiny scraps of fabric, you’ve got another thing coming.”
"And what's wrong with em’? They cover the essentials."
"They’re…they’re barely there!" I say, holding the piece of material on my finger tip. “Shit’s gonna spill out. Or jump out. Either way, my bits and pieces are going to pop out of this thing.”
"There ain't a damn thing wrong with this outfit, Missy,” she says, snatching the shorts from me. "It covers everything that's important and then some. Besides, it might do you good to loosen up a bit. You seem tighter than a vagina at a nuns' convention, and you don’t have much to worry about anyway. Ya ain’t got much that’s gonna escape."
Seriously? She went there?"
The whore laughs uncontrollably and her shoulders shake as she nods, agreeing with the redhead.
“What the hell are you getting at?”
“Look, Gia. I saw the way you gave Roman them googly eyes. I actually thought it was cute," she replies as she sits on the bed and brings her beer up to her lips.
“What happened to kicking my ass and all that shit?"
"Roman’s been through a lot and I d
o mean a lot. He's helped me out when no one else was there. Hell, he practically saved my life, and he's helped Dirk out too." Jen looks lost in thought as she takes another pull from her beer. "I used to work at one of the local bars. Ya know, the kind where the skimpier the clothes the better? Well, this one particular night, a week after Roman moved to town, I was working late and when I was leaving work after everyone else had already gone home for the night."
I feel my stomach turn.
"Let's just say I owe that man a lot. He saved me that night, and I don't want to see him get fucked over by another money hungry broad. He deserves better than that. So, I hope you're here with good intentions, girl, cause' if you ain't, I'll break ya."
Big Jen eyes me, and I’m pretty sure I just peed myself.
"Here, try this,” she says, tossing me a white button down top and a pair of tight jeans. “Pretty sure those will cover up your cooter. Now, saunter those baby makin' hips out that door and grab yourself a cowboy.”
Confused more than I was before about the scary redhead, I straighten my back and tighten the knot Jen constructed on the blouse as the material slithers up my waist, showing off the skin around my belly. The outfit isn't as bad as the one she tried to squeeze me into a few moments earlier. Without looking out into the crowd, I take the back steps slowly since I'm wearing a pair of boots Jen said would look ‘pretty kick ass’. Once I reach the bottom, I run my hands down the front of a pair of skin tight jeans, giving them a slight tug around the thighs. I just hope that the suffocating denim hasn't given my vagina a bad case of camel toe.
My inner whore gives me the thumbs up. Sometimes that subconscious bitch gets on my damn nerves. Instead of having the angel on one shoulder and the little-horned heathen on the other, I get stuck with a perverted freak sitting pretty on her soapbox.
I try not to make eye contact with anyone around me as I reach my hand up to my head and adjust the beige cowboy hat that Jen insisted I wear. I feel kind of ridiculous having never worn anything like this outfit before. It's not every day you go from city to country in less than twenty-four hours.
"Damn, girl."
With my head geared toward the ground, I see a pair of brown muddy boots and get a whiff of liquor wafting around me. When I snap my eyes up, I'm caught off guard by the dirty, grungy guy standing in front of me. Hell, he makes Dirk look like a goddamned GQ model and that’s saying a lot.
"Name's Chris," the disgusting man says, eyeing me with a beady glare. "You got a name, sweetheart, or shall I just call you mine?"
Before I can punch Chris the Creeper in the throat, I feel a warm hand on the bare skin of my back. I close my eyes when the sound of Roman’s sexy, silky voice dances close to my ear.
"Excuse me, Chris," Roman says, lightly squeezing the sliver of flesh near my waist. "This sweetheart’s already taken. C'mon, baby girl, let's get a drink."
When Roman turns to look at Chris, a smirk appears on his beautiful mouth.
The whore screams and does a happy dance, falling into a pile of whore goo.
Chapter 9
Sheath the Dragon!
-Roman-
"Thank you."
I watch Gia’s body language change as I guide her over to an empty table. If I’d known that Chris was on the prowl I would’ve never left her alone for a minute.
Gia mutters in a low voice, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "That guy's kind of weird."
I agree. Chris is definitely a fry short of a kid’s meal. Let’s just say that when I found him trying to milk Buck, I nearly flipped my shit. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Buck wasn’t a steer. Needless to say, Buck had the last laugh when he kicked the shit out of Chris and sent him flying through the barn. From that point on I felt bad for the guy, but let him even think he’s gonna get anywhere close to Gia, you best believe we’re havin’ problems.
"You alright? We could go back to my house. We don’t have to stay here."
"It's okay," Gia replies as I hold out a chair for her.
"Want something to drink?"
Gia nods, tucking herself into a seat as I reach into the cooler that's planted next to us. I pull out two of Jen’s special Mason jars and sit one in front of Gia. I can't help but stare a little. She's gorgeous. So different from the girl I knew so many years ago, and dressed the way she is? Well, let's just say it's causing one hell of a party in my jeans.
Stupid, cock-blocking Dirk. I could kick his ass. So what if his stupid potato looks like a vagina. It wasn't important enough to drag me away from this beautiful woman the minute we arrived. Because of him and that fucking potato, Chris almost got a little too close to her which could have ended badly. Stupid fucking potato. I chuckle, remembering the look on Dirk’s face when he showed me that damn thing. Sick fucker.
"What?" Gia asks when she catches me looking at her. "I knew it. I look funny don't I?"
Funny? Did she just ask that? She thinks I'm laughing at her?
I shake my head. "No, no you don't. Definitely not. No," I reply, noticing that our knees are near to touching, and the sudden urge to run my hand up her calf has my palm itching. "So I take it that you and Jen played dress up?"
"You mean she played dress up. I just sat there. Forced into it I might add."
I watch as she brings the chilled Mason jar up to her lips and takes a generous gulp. I pull in a few shallow breaths and try to calm myself. It doesn't work. I'm hard as a rock and in some serious need of friction.
“Wow! That’s some potent stuff.”
“You might want to take it easy on that.”
“Why? What’s in it? Tastes kind of fruity.”
Gia takes another serious gulp from the jar, causing my eyes to go wide
“Seriously, babe, pace yourself.”
“Really, what’s in this?”
“That right there is what I like to call piss and ball sweat, Clarabelle. Shit’s gonna put some hair on your chest and make your nuts the size of grapefruits.”
Gia blinks several times and I shake my head as Dirk zips past us and does a little foot shuffle.
“Roman, I don’t want grapefruits for balls.” Gia’s eyes go wide. “Am I really drinking piss?”
“No. You’re not drinking piss.” I chuckle and reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “It’s Jen’s special blend of moonshine. It’s got lemon and a few other things in it.”
“Fuck me running.” Another gulp slides down her throat. “It’s like drinking fucking fire!”
“Like I said, you should really pace yourself.” I smile and shake my head when Gia starts to sway a bit in her seat. I lean in and motion to the drink in her hand. "Maybe we should give that a rest for a bit. Wanna dance?"
Just a leg. All I need is a leg or a hip.
“Sure.”
I smile, stand up and hold out my hand out for her to take.
There are a few people on the floor, but I don't care. I just want to get her in my arms. I can't even believe I'm saying that right now. I haven’t thought about having a woman in my arms since that bitch left me.
I brush the thought off as I slowly pull Gia to me, loving the way she feels when our bodies connect. I want her close. I want to drown in this moment, and the song that's playing is perfect for it. I slip my hand around her left side, letting my forearm rest on the small of her back and take her right hand into mine. We're so close. I can feel her warm breath on my neck and it sends a blaze across my skin. Everything about this feels right.
Once the song starts to gear up, Gia’s hips start to move. The movement is slow and deliberate as her body starts to move against mine. I remove my arm from around her waist and slowly trail my hand up her back. She feels so good under my fingertips. Her skin feels as soft as velvet. When my fingers finally reach the nape of her neck, they linger for a moment as I rub the small sliver of skin there. I feel her shiver. She nestles further into me and continues to move her hips. It's all I can do not to bend her over one of these tables and fuck her in
to oblivion. But I need to watch how far we go with this. I'm not sure it's what she wants. But I can't help myself. It's been so damn long. I need to feel her under my palms, against my bare flesh and on the tip of my tongue.
I let my fingers gradually wind through her hair. I rub small circles against her skin and watch as she presses herself against my touch. She shivers again. When Gia turns around in my arms and starts to move her ass against my crotch, I feel a jolt surge through my veins.
Take deep breaths. It's still early, and I have a feeling, this is going to be a long night.
"You smell amazing," I whisper in her ear.
As soon as I feel her lips press against the skin on my neck, right below my ear, I'm done.
"Why was I so stupid not to see you?" I whisper so that only she can hear me. I feel her start to pull away, nearly removing her hands from my body. "Don't.”
I grip her soft hands and slide them around my neck. A low moan claws up my chest as she runs her tongue up the center of my throat. I blow out a hard breath through my nose when Gia looks up at me from under her long lashes, and when she cups my cheek with her palm and bites the side of her lip, my cock decides to do a fucking happy dance.
"Do you want to stop, Roman?"
Is she fucking insane?
I don’t give it a second thought when I pull Gia in for a long, searing kiss. Consequences be fucking damned, and I give into every warning signal staring me in the face. I’ll deal with the backlash later. Right now, all I want to do is taste her.
“You wanna get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
All that goddamned second guessing bullshit goes out the window the moment she gives me the green light. I smile down at her and grab her hand. As soon as I start to weave us through the crowd and toward the gate, Dirk steps in front of us.
“Where ya goin'?"
"It's getting late. We're heading out."
"But we ain't even played beer pong! Ya gotta stay for beer pong!"
"Maybe next time, Dirk," I say, shifting slightly and very much unsuccessful at trying to calm the boner in my jeans.
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