Moving closer to her, I rest my hand on her thigh. Glancing down at it, she bites her lip. “Nice ink,” she says.
“Thanks, do you have any hidden tattoos?” I ask, with a grin.
She laughs, like I knew she would. “No, but I’d really like to get one. I think it’s real sexy,” she says, running her hand up and down my arm. “Do you only have your arms done?”
Trudging my hand through my dark hair, I wink. “No, it’s not just my arms, sweetheart.”
Here we go, wait for it.
Running her eyes all over me, trying to figure out where my ink is, she smiles. “Where else?”
That’s it.
Leaning my mouth close to her ear, and my hand closer to her pussy, I nip her earlobe. “How about I show you?”
She’s more than willing to grab my hand once I stand up. Leading her to the bathroom, I check over my shoulder to make sure Troy is still keeping the friend occupied. This is by far the best he’s been as a wingman. Maybe he’s trainable after all.
Pushing into the bathroom, I slam her against the back of the closed door and kiss down her neck. She lets out a soft moan when I bite her supple skin. Hiking her leg up, I grab it, holding it against my hip. As I work my way down to her tits, I push my hard cock against her.
“Oh, Brett,” she moans out, trying to kiss me.
Pulling her away from the door, I push her against the wall, keeping my front to her back. I’m all about fucking, but kissing, no. That shit is too personal, too much emotion and feelings happen when you kiss. Since I’m avoiding that car wreck, I keep it all about the sex.
Pulling her hair, I turn her head to face me. “Layla, if you want me to keep going, let me be clear. This is just sex, nothing more. You good with that?”
Lust clear in her green eyes, she bites her lip. “Show me those tattoos, Brett.” Yanking off my shirt, her eyes widen. “Damn, that’s hot.” She takes a moment to let her gaze travel over the ink on my arms and chest. Roses on the arm, a cross front and center on my chest. Mi Vida Loca, ‘my crazy life’, scribbled across my pecs.
Giving her a half grin, I lift her and she wraps her legs around me. Her hands explore my upper body, as I free her tits from her dress. Sucking a hardened nipple into my mouth, she bucks against me, letting out a loud moan.
Sinking my fingers into her ass cheeks, I move to the other tit. She continues to moan, sinking her nails into my back. I need to fuck her. Just like this, pressed against the wall with her tits hanging out.
As I start to unbutton my jeans, the door flies open. “Brett, this wingman thing is really working. I’m leaving with Suzie,” Troy announces, before even noticing what the fuck I’m doing.
Layla screams and pushes out of my arms, covering herself quickly. “Troy, get the fuck out of here, man,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Oh damn, sorry. Sorry man. Just carry on,” he says, stumbling over his words as he rushes out.
Layla, on the other hand stands there with her arms crossed, giving me some evil looking eyes. “Your wingman. Seriously? You set me up,” she yells.
Christ. “Layla, come on. Does it really matter? You’re still turned on.”
“Was. I was turned on,” she shouts, rushing out the bathroom, letting the hard wooden door slam as it echoes through my ears.
“Troy I’m gonna fucking kill you,” I whisper, picking my shirt up to toss back on.
Grabbing a seat at the bar, I figure I’ll drown my sorrows. Maybe give Asher a call and tell him a real friend would get his ass down here.
“Is this seat taken?”
Turning my head, I can’t help the smile that breaks out. “Eva Chapman. How the hell are you?”
We met in middle school and she was always fun to hang out with when we were young. I’ve seen her around from time to time over the years, but come to think of it I haven’t seen her around in a while.
She looks damn good. Her long brown hair falls over her shoulders, leading right to her tits. Which look fucking amazing almost spilling out of her dress. That blue dress. Damn, what I wouldn't give to see what's underneath it. Shaking my head, I push away any sexual thoughts of Eva. She's just a friend.
Laughing, she sits down. “Better than you, considering I was in the ladies room and overheard.”
Groaning, I scrub my face. “Great.”
“I’m guessing you need a new wingman?” she asks, laughing again.
“Why you want the job?”
“Maybe. Maybe I do.”
Chapter Two
Eva
Brett Daniels. I haven’t seen him around in a while, but as soon as I heard the yelling when I was in the bathroom, I knew who it was. I didn’t need to even hear his name, I just knew it. He’s a player...the player. I’ll admit, he’s good at it. Good enough that if I hadn’t been friends with him since middle school, I’d fall for it all too. The tattoos covering his muscular body, that messy black hair, the facial hair that he keeps trimmed close to his face, and those bright blue eyes. Yeah, he’s fucking hot by anyone’s standards. It’s a good thing I’m immune.
“So where’ve you been hiding?” he asks, tossing back a shot of Jack.
“I haven’t been hiding, I’ve been busy.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I laugh. “Shut up. So, how’s life without Asher?”
Turning in his seat, he rests his tattooed arm on the sticky bar. “You make it sound like he died.”
“Well, he did in a sense. He’s not out here having fun anymore. He’s at home with the little woman, picking out wallpaper and curtains,” I joke.
He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that. Still aren’t looking to settle down yourself?”
“Brett, you know damn well I’ll never settle down. Wasn’t something that interested me years ago, and it’s only been reinforced now. It’s all about fun. You know that better than anyone.”
Relationships are dirty, and complicated. You spend all your time with one person, trying to please them. Trying to make them feel like the center of the universe. Thing is, you shouldn’t need to spend your time convincing someone how amazing they are. If they don’t know it, they aren’t worth your time. I’ve wasted enough of my time.
“Oh, you know damn well it’s all about fun for me. Last thing I need is to hand over my balls like Asher,” he says.
We spend the next hour catching up and laughing. It feels good to be having fun, feeling carefree. It’s been a hell of a year and right now, sitting here with Brett reminds me how much I’ve been missing. He may come off as a manwhore, sleeping his way around this city, and yeah he is, but I don’t see him that way. I see him as a friend, someone that I wouldn’t mind hanging out with again.
“Alright, let’s talk about you needing a wingman,” I say, feeling the full effects of the alcohol swimming in my veins.
“I find your confidence sexy as hell, but you know I need a guy for a wingman. How are you going to distract the friend while I make my move? Unless, wait. Are you into girls now?” he asks, a huge smile breaking out on his face.
Tossing my head back laughing, I rest my hand on his large bicep. “It’s only girl on girl when there is a guy there to enjoy it,” I say, giving him a wink.
“Hot, but that still doesn’t help.”
“You’ve been limited with a guy for a wingman. You haven’t noticed all the action you are missing when a group goes out. I distract the guys, you have your pick of the ladies. It’s simple really. You get action, I get action. It’s a win/win for us both,” I say, flipping my long brown hair over my shoulder.
He searches my eyes for a minute, before a smile starts to spread across his face. “Eva, when did you become such a badass?”
“I’ve always been a badass, you just never noticed,” I joke.
“Bullshit. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying. Plus, you know damn well I’d notice.”
He’s right. I wasn’t always this badass, but things change and you change with them. There�
�s no going back in time, no second guessing decisions you’ve made. It’s pointless. Life is too short to not have fun while you can. So, yeah, I’ve become badass and I’m damn glad.
“My badassery is just something new you’ll have to get used to,” I say, grinning.
Smiling, he searches my light brown eyes. “I’ve missed you, Eva Chapman. Let’s give it a go. If it doesn’t work, fuck it. But we’ll definitely be hanging out one way or another.”
“Oh it will work. Don’t tell me I’ve got more confidence than you now.”
Moving in so close, I can smell the whiskey on his breath, he says, “My confidence is something you should never question, and my big ego should be proof enough.”
This is how he does it. Moving closer, talking in that deep, sexy voice. It can make women drop their panties without a subconscious thought. I’m not exaggerating, he’s that fucking good. Not even sure why he’s worried about having a wingman, because he sure as hell doesn’t need one. But in an effort to get some fun back in my life, I’m more than willing to do it.
Pushing on his solid chest, he backs up. “Save your sweet talk for someone it will work on.”
“Oh, my sweet talk is something else entirely,” he says, lifting an eyebrow.
Rolling my eyes, I finish my drink and stand up. “Okay sweet talker, I’m going home. You still have my cell, so give me a call and we’ll make plans.”
Shocking me, he stands and wraps his strong arms around me, lifting me off the ground. “Get ready, you’ve just replaced Asher.”
We both laugh, and I walk away, leaving him at the bar. Replacing Asher. Okay, I can live with that.
Chapter Three
Brett
“Yo, Brett. I said get me an oil filter, not a belt. What the hell are you so distracted about lately?” Charlie yells.
“Shut the hell up. I’m not distracted, I just can’t understand you when it sounds like you’re talking with a dick in your mouth,” I toss back, throwing the filter at him.
I keep telling everyone, I’m not distracted. There’s no reason for me to be. Just thinking about Eva. Damn, I used to have such a crush on her when we were young. She never took my shit, always gave it as good as she got it. I teased that girl relentlessly, always trying to get her attention.
“What the hell are you grinning at, Daniels?” Robert, my boss, asks walking by.
Alright, maybe I’m a little distracted.
There are days I kick myself in the ass for not going to work for Asher, but I know it wouldn’t have worked. I don’t like taking orders. I sure as hell don’t like taking orders from my best friend. It would have ruined our friendship. I would have ruined it. Asher is the only person who’s been in my life that hasn’t left for one reason or another. My parents were too busy snorting cocaine to even remember they had a kid. I got shipped off to my grandparents, who tried to teach me right from wrong, but I wasn’t an easy kid to deal with. Too much anger.
When my grandparents died, I was left with no one at only eighteen. I’ve lost countless friends over the years. Some died one way or another, some didn’t like my life style. Others lied to my face and they were lucky I didn’t beat it off.
Having a relationship was just something that never interested me. Why even bother when in the end they’ll leave anyway. It’s a waste of time. Anyone I’ve ever cared about has left me, expect for Asher. So what’s the point? Having fun, that’s what it’s all about.
“Hey, are you going to help me or are you going to stand there daydreaming like a chick?” Charlie asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Christ, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” I say, flipping him off. “Move, I’ll get this shit done. You probably need to go get waxed for all the dick you’ll be getting this weekend.”
He laughs, wiping his hands on the rag. “What are you into someone or something?”
“Charlie, you’re a cool guy. I have mad respect for you, but if you ever try to get personal with me again, I’ll punch you in the mouth.” Alright so maybe I still have a little anger.
After I finish up work, I climb into my black Chevy Silverado 2500. Pushing the key in the ignition, I listen to the engine purr to life as I light up a cigarette. Just before I throw it in gear, my phone rings and I grab it.
“What’s up?”
“Hey Brett.” Eva’s sexy voice comes through.
“Hey, what’s going on? You’re not calling to cancel on me, are you?” I ask, taking a drag of my smoke.
She laughs, and damn it makes me smile. “No. I just thought instead of coming here, how about we meet up at the diner.”
“Yeah, that works. Still around seven?”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you later.”
She doesn’t even wait for a reply, just hangs up. Grinning, I toss my phone on the passenger seat. Making the short drive home, I drive past Asher’s garage and see he’s still busy working. Pulling in, I throw my truck in park, and jump out.
“Hey man. You’re working late,” I say, leaning against his tool box.
“Get the fuck off my box,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.
Laughing, I step away. He makes it too easy. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m just about finished. I was buried in paperwork all day and just needed to get my hands dirty before I left.”
“Yeah, fuck that. I’d rather be covered in grease, cut up from working on a car,” I say, slapping his back. “But you’re a different kind of guy.”
“No shit.” He slams down the hood and picks up his rag. “So what’s your plans for tonight?”
“Remember Eva Chapman?”
“How the hell could I forget. She was the only chick that you ever really liked, why?”
Crossing my arms, I lean against the side of the Ford Taurus he was working on. “I’m meeting her at the diner. And, shut the fuck up, I had a crush on her when we were kids. That doesn’t mean shit.”
Grinning, he tosses the grease filled rag behind him. “Sure it doesn’t. Is this like a date?”
“Just because you went out and handed your balls over to Payton, doesn’t mean I’m looking to do the same thing. That’s never going to change. Stop acting like you don’t fucking know me,” I say, with a bit too much anger in my voice.
He laughs, fucking laughs. “Yeah that’s the same shit I said, and look at me now.”
“We’re not the same person. Hey, I was just stopping to see if you needed help. Obviously, you don’t, so I’m leaving,” I say, turning to leave.
“Have fun with Eva tonight,” he yells.
Just because he found his happily ever after, or whatever the fuck, doesn’t mean I’m going to. No screw that, I don’t want it. Eva may be hot as hell, but she’s a friend. Just a friend.
Buy Link
Damaged - http://amzn.to/2ws7x2I
Pillow Talk
By
Luke Prescott
Pillow Talk
Copyright © 2017 Luke Prescott
Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations
Editor: Devilish Desires
Formatting: Devilish Desires
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Definition of pillow talk
Pillow talk is the relaxed, intimate conversation that often occurs between two sexual partners after sexual activity, usually accompanied by cuddling, caresses, and other physical in
timacy. It is associated with honesty, sexual afterglow, and bonding, and is distinguished from dirty talk which usually forms part of foreplay. Pillow talk, more broadly may also refer to conversations between parties that may be of a more casual and flirting nature, and are not necessarily engaged in a physical relationship.
Chapter One
Brooke
Sitting at the bar of this upscale hotel in the middle of Manhattan, I take a small sip of my vodka cranberry. I let my eyes drift to the right and I notice an older couple laughing as they talk about their kids. To the left is a sad woman who looks to be drinking her troubles away. I take out my compact and appear to be checking my reflection, but my focus is on the table of high profile businessmen behind me. A small smile creeps onto my face when I spot him. Bingo. Time to get to work.
Sliding off the black-lacquered bar stool, I saunter past the table. My strapless gray dress hugs my body perfectly and it’s immediately noticed. He runs his eyes over my entire body as I make my way by and I give him my perfectly crafted flirty smile. I spend as much time as I can in the bathroom. Checking my makeup, washing my hands, checking my phone. Anything to give him time to wonder if I’m going to walk past again or if he’s missed his chance and I left.
My purple heels announce my presence before he even sees me again. Which is exactly what I want, because he looks up from his drink on the bar, and his brown eyes slam into mine. Check. I try to disguise a smile by biting down on my bottom lip. Check. Swaying my hips as I walk past, I watch his eyes widen as I peek over my shoulder. Check. I give him two minutes before he’s over here and eating out of the palm of my hand.
Just as I knew it, he stands next to me, giving me a toothy smile. “Is this seat taken?” He casually nods to the stool next to me.
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