Page 27 of Cheater and the Saint

Chills erupted over my skin at the cool night air, but the inside of the club was always hot, so I wouldn’t be cold long. I’d worn tattered jeans that hugged my ass and a snug, blue shirt that emphasized my toned chest and arms. I wasn’t necessarily looking for a fuck, but if it happened, it happened. I hadn’t been laid in weeks, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit antsy.

It started out like any other night out.

Tayte got us some drinks from the bar. We drank, scoped out the place, talked some shit to each other. Seeing that a pool table was open, we went over after getting some quarters and played a few games. Girls passed our table and watched us play, which of course brought out our competitive sides.

I won three games in a row. Tayte hadn’t mastered the art of the big stick yet. And I meant that exactly as it sounded.

“I’m done with this shit,” Tayte said, slurring his words a tad. Between our games, we’d bought several rounds of Jack and cokes, and he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects. “Let’s dance.”

So we did. Some rap song was playing, and even though I typically didn’t like that kind of music, it had a great beat. A group of girls approached, getting in front of me and Tayte and shaking their asses.

Tayte was making out with one not even five minutes into it. She was a busty blonde—totally his type—and was wearing some shorty shorts that rode so far up that it showed her ass cheeks.

The one in front of me was cute. She had short dark hair, a super thin build, and what she lacked in boob size, she made up for in the way she moved her body. I let her grind on me and run her well-manicured hands down my chest. I let her bump her ass right on my crotch as I held her hips.

Not going to lie, it was a turn on. When she felt the evidence of that fact, she turned to face me and smiled like a sexy vixen. As she continued dancing, so close to me it was almost chest to chest, her hand traveled low and she teasingly ran her fingers over the front of my jeans.

However, things then took a turn, going from the expected night out to something entirely different.

Where I would’ve once pulled her in closer, whispered something witty and charming in her ear, and then taken her to a secluded place to fuck her, I did the opposite.

I jerked away from her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, having to shout over the loud music.

“Sorry, darlin’, but I think I’ve had too much to drink,” I lied, putting on my best smile. I excused myself before walking off the dance floor.

I was pretty much drunk, but I was sober enough to feel guilt. Something about fucking her didn’t feel right to me.

Not because it was anything to do with her… but because of him.

Saint hadn’t outright come onto me, but knowing he liked me enough to jerk off to me in the shower, and then hint that he wanted to bang me, well, it made everyone else seem subpar to that. The reason I hadn’t screwed anyone in weeks was because I wantedhim. I’d started noticing all those fucking sexy things about him, like his big blue eyes and sweet lips, and that bashful smile and crinkle of his nose when he stepped outside his comfort zone and talked to me.

I’d never really crushed on many people before, but I was on him. Hard, too.

That was the first time I’d admitted it to myself.

There was nothing between us. But I sort of wanted there to be. And I had enough alcohol in me that night to finally tell him.