6. Ronan #2
“Damn.” This city really is something, or maybe this is what single life is like. I’m not against it, but neither of them is doing it for me. “Why don’t you take both, and I’ll take our server instead. ”
His brow arches knowingly. “The paint, right? You wanna leave fingerprints.”
“ All over her.”
Sherrie notices that we’ve returned and waves at the row of shot glasses on the table. “Look what our waitress brought over to apologize for taking so long!”
They’re all empty.
I lift one to sniff it.
“Tequila!” They both shout, lifting their arms over their heads.
Connor and I share a glance—one that says neither of us is getting laid tonight, unless it happens soon.
“I was just thinking the same thing.” He nods to my glass. “Drink up.”
Georgia’s hips sway as she rounds the table. Still dancing, she runs her hands from my stomach all the way to my chest, her fingertips curling around the collar of my shirt. “You took too long.”
Not more than ten minutes, but in drunk-girl time, I guess that’s forever. “You should have water.”
“Hmm …” She’s so close, all I can smell is her lotus flower perfume. “I don’t want water. Do you know what I do want?”
I chuckle. “I think I can guess.”
She steps in close enough to grind against me. Her eyes sparkle. “It looks like someone’s excited to see me.”
Or just excited, thanks to Becca.
My hands are occupied so I can’t do much when Georgia’s fingers slide over the hard ridge in my pants, rubbing back and forth.
“You’re a big boy,” she purrs into my ear, and my dick jumps, like a lap dog responding to praise.
With a giggle, she draws my zipper down and slips her hand inside to grip me, the warmth of her palm through the cotton of my briefs bringing a soft groan to my lips.
I glance over to see Sherrie push Connor back into the lounge chair and climb onto his lap, her short skirt riding up to show the black lace of her G-string.
All around us, people are in their own worlds, laughing, dancing, semicovertly sniffing lines of coke off side tables.
I wonder if it’s this place or Miami in general, but no one seems to care who’s watching.
And truthfully, I don’t care much either. I suck back half my drink, knowing I’m going to have to finish Georgia’s too. And then we’re gonna have to get out of here because I need those red lips around my cock.
She must be able to read my mind because I feel the sharp tug of my belt buckle being unfastened. Fuck … is she actually going to?—
Cool fingers graze against my skin as she peels my briefs down and pulls my dick right out into the open.
Jesus . At least my back is to the crowd.
I’m too stunned to speak as she seats herself on the chair in front of me. Giving me a lascivious smile, she leans forward and runs her tongue along my full length, nearly buckling my knees.
I glance over to see if Connor knows what’s going on. But he’s otherwise occupied, his hands gripping Sherrie’s ass as she straddles his lap, riding him so hard there’s no way he’s not going to come in his pants.
Just like there’s no way I’m going to stop Georgia now.
I chug the rest of my drink and gently toss the glass toward the couch.
Bits of ice scatter onto the smooth surface.
It’s a bar—they must be used to spilled drinks around here.
With my free hand, I weave my fingers through the back of Georgia’s hair and guide myself into her warm mouth.
She accepts me without hesitation and fully, until I feel my tip hitting the back of her throat. A groan slips from my mouth.
Sherrie wasn’t kidding—her friend loves to suck dick and she’s damn good at it, her deceptive doe eyes locked on mine as her head bobs up and down, her long fingernails digging into my hips. She has literally no gag reflex.
I feel myself swelling and tightening. I may actually blow my load in her mouth, right here in the back of this club. Something I can’t say I’ve done before. While Tasha was wild between the sheets, it was always behind the safety of a door, and with just the two of us in the room.
But Tasha isn’t in my life anymore, so what the hell do I care?
A light hand settles on my shoulder. I turn to find Becca standing next to me.
“I’m sorry, I can’t let you do that in here,” she purrs in my ear.
“Why not? Because you want to be the one doing it?” I’m turning into an obnoxious ass, thanks to the Jack. But seriously, people are practically fucking on the dance floor, and I’ll be done in a few minutes.
“Because it’s considered public indecency. It’s frowned upon.”
Something about the way she says that makes my dick swell more.
Her eyes drop from my face to where Georgia sucks. When her gaze lifts again, I see the heat in them. “You better finish up before the bouncers come.”
I smirk. “Define finish up?” Does she mean stop or …
Becca adjusts her grip on her empty drink tray, tucking it under her arm to block the view of passersby as she settles a hand over mine.
“Holy fuck,” I hiss, as she guides Georgia’s head, urging her on faster, deeper, her painted breast rubbing against my biceps. Even the pasty can’t hide her hardened nipples.
This lioness is something else.
Over her shoulder, I see that Sherrie has reversed on Connor’s lap and is grinding her ass into him now. Connor’s head has fallen back against the couch, his lips parted, a euphoric look on his face as he stares up at the ceiling .
I can’t believe this is happening. “Fuck me …” I’m in heaven.
“I was hoping to,” Becca murmurs.
I chug Georgia’s drink and toss the glass aside, my gaze locked on Becca’s stunning body. It’s probably wrong to be drooling over her while Georgia is blowing me, but I can’t help it, and neither Georgia nor Becca seem to mind.
“I really need to touch you.” I’m ready to explode.
A small smile curls Becca’s lips as she adjusts her stance. “Nowhere that I’m painted.”
That leaves me only one place.
I graze my finger along the front of her G-string, waiting for her to stop me.
She goads me on with a jut of her chin.
Carefully, I slip my index finger down the front of her smooth mound and through her slick center. She parts her legs, inviting me inside her.
I take the invitation, sliding two fingers into her wet heat.
The simple move is 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 flush against me with my other hand, I spill into her mouth with a strangled curse.
Becca abruptly steps away from me, my fingers gliding 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 chuckles as we stumble through our front door and into the dark living room, Georgia and Sherrie giggling as they cling to each other’s arms.
Despite the sudden end to things at the club—my pants barely done up as I was escorted out—I would have been satisfied to call 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 smeared in orange from Becca.
“Shit. I hope that comes out.” It’s one of my favorite shirts.
“We should throw it into the wash now.” She begins fumbling with the buttons, her lips moving for my mouth.
I step out of her reach, not interested in that level of intimacy. “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, using the couch’s back to guide her.
“You sure you’re up for this tonight?” I ask. “’Cause we’ve both been drinking and we don’t have to …”
My words trail as she pushes down the top of her dress, showing off a set of perky tits before she saunters away.
I guess this is happening. I head for the closet off the main room, peeling off my shirt on the way to chuck it in the washer. 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 shrieks.
Shit.
I rush toward the voices, tripping over the heels, dress, and panties strewn along the floor, to find Ryan’s door wide open and a naked Sherrie scampering out.
Granted, the condo is an odd design, with Ryan’s bedroom at the end of the hall and mine kitty-corner to it. Still, it’s not hard to figure out. “Your other right.”
Sherrie darts across to my room. I dare hazard a glance to find the bedside lamp on and Ryan sitting upright in her bed, her scowl full of venom .
“Sorry.” I close her door 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 on display, 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.”
“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.