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“Stop that.” I slap at him, trying to wiggle my way away from him and to the beer Scarlet hands me. I’ve never been much of a hard alcohol girl. I prefer beer over anything else. “What’s gotten into you?”
He pushes my hair aside and kisses my neck. “I have two emotions. Angry and horny. Oh, and batshit crazy. Pick one.”
Taking notice in the now black barrel he has in his hand, I say, “I think you’re batshit crazy at the moment.”
He slings his arm around me. “I wouldn’t disagree.”
I can tell you a lot about that night, and most of it happens on my own free will, but somehow, after three beers, and a few pulls from the half-empty fifth of Jameson Black Barrel, I find myself outside on the pool deck with Tiller, and I’m on his lap facing him. Do you see us there? We’re surrounded by probably fifty people, most of which I don’t know and neither does Tiller. Even if he did, he wouldn’t know it now because I’m the only one capturing his attention.
My tired eyes drift around the party over his shoulder. Their security guards, Brad and Zack, stand perched near the pool, watching everyone, but neither participating.
Over the insane stereo system, “Turn Down for What” by DJ Snake blares, thumping with the beat of my steady pulse.
“Dance for me,” Tiller tells me, laying his head back against the chair.
I do, but my eyes keep moving to beside us where Roan is standing with a girl I know he has history with. Ophelia Hadley. Same girl Tiller slept with. Roan takes her hand, leading her away from the crowd who refuse to give them privacy.
Gah, why can’t I stop my mind?Anxiety gnaws at my chest. It’s all around me. Reminders of his lifestyle, and that I’m just a girl he messes around with. If I got up and left right now, would he care?
“Goddamn,” he breathes, kissing and biting at the side of my neck. “I can feel the heat of your pussy through my fucking shorts. Let me fuck you. Please?”
I don’t answer, because he knows I’m not giving in like this. He pulls his mouth to mine, and we’re locked in a kiss. It’s enough that my attention moves to him and only him. His mouth covers mine with a hunger that doesn’t hold back. He never does, and it always sends an intoxicating sensation through my body I crave long after his mouth parts from mine.
“Goddamn it.” He growls out a breath, pulling his mouth from mine. He sounds frustrated, shifting, slouching, and grinding his erection into my center. Tightening his grip on my hip, he forces me into the lift of his hips, dragging me over the bulge. He doesn’t seem to care people are all around us, but then again, when I was seventeen and he came on my bare breasts with three of his friends watching, I don’t think he cared then, either. The thought, the memory of him doing those things to me, it adds to what’s between us now. A connection neither of us can explain.
Tingles shoot through my entire body, and I’m close to an orgasm just off the kiss and the friction of his hardness between my legs. With him shirtless, I’m careful of his arm in the sling, and I want to wrap my arms around his neck to feel his hot skin on mine, but I can’t.
To my left, I notice people watching us, while others don’t seem to mind. Like Shade and Scarlet. They’re in the hot tub. Her tops off and he’s sucking on her tits. Those are just the kind of things that happen at the parties here and nobody’s the wiser. They just let it happen.
Tiller’s breath catches, and he halts my hips, and I swear his dick twitches, pulsing like he’s coming. “Fuck, stop for a second.” His stomach tightens, his head resting back on the chair we’re in. I touch my fingertips to his panther tattoo on his pec, outlining it with the pad of my index finger.
He swallows. “You gotta get up for a second or I’m gonna blow it.”
I’m assuming he means come in his shorts, but I’m not sure. The only sexual experiences I have are with him, he’s made sure of that.
I move, as I’m told, and sit in the chair across from him, the heat of the night and between us giving my body a glistening glow of excitement. I can feel my cheeks burning, my heart pounding while the haze of the alcohol lingers.
Tiller looks at me, his hooded with desire, then to the bottle of Black Barrel he has between his legs.
“Fuck the bottle with your mouth,” he orders, gesturing to the bottle with a lazy nod.
I blink, confused. “Why?”
He gives me that look. The one that screams,why would you question me?“Because I asked you.”
I know I don’t have to do it. He may be demanding, but a part of me wants to. The part he’s corrupted over the years. The part that lives for the hooded desire in those dark eyes. Without too much encouragement needed, I lower my head between his legs until I feel the coolness of the bottle hit my burning lips. Opening my mouth, I slide the first inch between my lips.
“Fuck yeah.” His hand rises from his side, and he grabs a handful of my hair, giving me a gentle push. “Take as much as you can.”
I’ve never been so nervous around him and my eyes keep darting to everyone around me, waiting to see what they’re going to think. He tugs on my hair. “Don’t look at them. Only look at me.”
Oh my God, what is he doing to me? I wasn’t sure I even knew themepresent. The pureness inside me had somehow become possessed by the mind of a devil with whiskey eyes and a torched soul.
Letting go of my hair, he takes hold of the bottle. I gag but recover. “You look good with your mouth full.”
I don’t say anything, what with a bottle in my mouth, but I smile around the neck of the bottle shoved down my throat. I honestly have to say, this is the weirdest thing I’ve done for him and that includes the time he stuck a sucker inside me so he could taste me. Don’t judge. I was eighteen and drunk.
“Are you imagining what my cock tastes like?” The tip it hits the back of my throat, and I want to gag again, but resist. Tears form at the corners of my eyes.