33. Noah #3
Charlie’s eyes are on me, practically shaking.
If I kiss the girl, I can already picture Charlie taking out a pocketknife and either stabbing me or the redhead.
If I make her take off her shirt, I’m also the bad guy.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I didn’t think this through when coming to play; I only focused on being with Charlie.
“Take off your clothes,” the words are boulders down my throat.
The redhead is too proud as she slip out of her heels and places them behind her. She takes the bottle, opens it up and takes a swig. I’m not even sure if she's aware of what is happening. Her eyes are foggy, and I’m waiting for her to plop to the floor like a dead fish.
The game starts picking up, going faster. Payton loses her shoes and the group of girls that had taunted her before picks on her again as she struggles to untie her laces. Charlie whispers to her, helping, and they bicker with each other.
When Charlie loses her first round, she tosses her red heels behind her back like it’s no big deal.
The Segway-security-looking fucker loses entirely and leaves first with some chick falling over on his shoulders as they walk out of the room.
Her head is flopping back and forth, and her legs are jelly as she tries to keep herself steady.
They must have gone into the adjacent room because all of us can hear the headboard banging against the wall.
I blink several times, trying to process his grunts and swearing that’s muffled through the thin walls.
It sounds like he was in heaven, but it wasn’t seven minutes.
It was definitely seven pathetic seconds.
I haven’t lost a round yet, but each time another girl lands on me I have them strip knowing I’m part of the problem as they get closer and closer to having to sleep with someone, and more than likely it's with a guy they want nothing to do with. Omen isn’t the best at poker and only wears his pants.
We play a few more rounds, and Payton has a shitty hand, as mine beats every player throwing down their cards.
Brody laughs at Payton and says, “Spin it. You might get lucky and someone will spare you with a kiss instead.”
Charlie’s chest heaves up and down, her nose flaring as she sucks in a deep breath. Her fists clench in her lap as Payton spins the bottle. The glass clinks on the hardwood floor and, as it slows down, it lands right on him. Brody’s laugh rips through the room, and he covers his mouth.
“I’d rather fuck you, so take something off.” He bites his bottom lip. Payton trembles.
Charlie, on the other hand, goes cherry-red in the face.
Clenching a handful of cards, she threw them into his face.
“In your dreams!” Her fierce eyes glare at him.
The words dig deep into my bones. I can’t make out if her eyes are glimmering with tears, or if she’s just really pissed off, but the hurt is ingrained and I can feel it seeping off her.
“You had your chance! I can fuck whoever I want now, and she’s kinda hot.”
“Dickhead!” she bites back at him.
Omen leans into my ear, licking his lips as he says. “She seems sore about him.”
“No kidding,” I mutter, my heart shattered into pieces.
Other guys in the room throw sly remarks at Payton, and even Omen has something to say as well, but I end up elbowing him the second he does. I turn my head to the bedsheets, and stare at anything other than Payton taking off her shirt.
We play rounds after rounds and the Barbie doll folds each time.
She makes out with anyone who lands on her.
She doesn’t seem to care. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about her red lingerie.
She’s like one of those models from Victoria’s Secret.
But once Barbie lands on Brody they make out – tongue and all, moaning into his mouth.
Seeing the saliva drip from their lips, I spot the one thing I don’t want to see.
Those grey eyes Charlie possesses. Her face crumbles, almost as if she's dissociating, watching them like a movie as they kiss. There’s no ounce of emotion I can map out.
It’s all hidden as she keeps her face expressionless, but her eyes speak for themselves.
They hurt, and I’m pummeled with a knife in my chest watching her numb everything.
Cards are dealt again. I end up with four of a kind, and Charlie has one pair. She ends up having the lowest hand. She blows out a deep breath from her mouth as she uses a middle finger to rub her eyeball.
“You know, you can just forfeit and leave with me.” Brody gathers the cards on the ground, shuffling them again as Charlie reaches for the vodka. She opens the bottle, dipping her head back and taking a swig.
“I’ll never touch you again.” Her upper lip twitches as she spins the bottle. It goes round and round, slowing down as it points to me.
“Oh look, you landed on the bitch.” Brody chuckles as one of his teammates comes over, high-fiving him, then fist-bumping as they mutter. “Nice one.”
I glance at Charlie and mouth, “What do you want?” I hope she can read lips as she digs her nails into her thighs.
She’s silent and only blinks her long, pretty lashes a few times before she places both palms on the floor and scoots closer.
Then her hands press against my legs, and she leans in, her lips dusting across mine, and I’m pretty sure I’m the one who is supposed to make the choice on what occurs between us.
But I let her kiss me, and she uses her front teeth to pull at my bottom lip before she poured herself in.
She tastes like so many things, vodka, juice, the spicy herbal tinge of weed on her tongue.
I can’t help but cup her cheek and let her silky lips get their fill before she pulls away.
“I rather fuck you...” I whisper, and she flashes me half a smile before I have to adjust myself in my jeans and talk myself off a ledge. She grasps the seam of her shirt and throws it over her head.
While Payton lands persistently on Brody, and turns paler by the second.
I’m landing on Charlie. We break the rules.
It’s supposed to be a kiss or taking off the clothes, and we keep doing both.
Brody’s jaw twitches. He scoffs, keeping the sly smile on his face as I keep my word. I’ll win her fair and square.
The next person to lose is the redhead, and thank God the bottle didn’t pick me because she was only in her underwear.
The guy threw her on top of the bed, and the entire time, she begged him to fuck her silly.
I rake my hands through my hair as they just go to pound town.
The loud moaning is straight out of a porno.
I just stare at the floor as the bed frame shakes and its legs scrape against the floor.
His balls sound wet with the rigorous slapping, and I keep breathing, not letting the sounds and movement make their way up my legs and into my own dick.
I’m used to Tony and Vince having sex in the van while one of us drives.
We’ve had girls come over in groups, and they didn’t grab separate rooms. They’d fuck right next to each other.
The redhead squeals in glee as they both climax and finish, before leaving the room with satisfied grins.
Barbie is gone. I dunno when she lost. Then Omen loses and lands on the shortest blondie in the room. He’s left in only his boxer briefs, looking like roadkill with how heavy his eyelids are. This girl barely stands at five feet tall, and she’s pressing an arm to her chest to cover up her breasts.
“Umm...” she says, biting her bottom lip, and her light blue-green eyes glimmer at Omen. “Let’s go,” she bites her bottom lip, standing up and gathering her clothes and bunching them up to her chest. Omen does the same and they're quiet leaving the room.
We play a few more rounds before people disappear.
It’s down to Charlie and Payton, and several guys in a circle.
One of the other teammates wins the round, and Charlie folds, with no value to her cards.
This will be her last round. Whomever she lands on will take her away.
As she unscrews the cap, her eyes are focused on me as she takes a shot.
“You got this,” I mouth the words before she twirls the bottle, and it spins, the neck slowing down, and my heart starts to pound into my neck, about to rip through my skin.
It slows down so much that I believe it stops on Brody, but it subtly clinks on the floor, the tip of the bottle pointed directly at me, barely missing him.
“You can have the fucking slut,” Brody mutters under his breath as he side-eyes me. His biceps flex, but I know he wants to make a blood trail of my body and dump me somewhere in the woods.
“Well, damn...” she says and dips her head to one side. “I guess I got lucky.”
I push my hair back, and my face burns hotter than the summer sun beating down on me. “I think it’s the other way around.”
She crawls over to me and runs a hand across my thigh. She plants a kiss on my lips and says, “Let’s get out of here.”
We are both consumed with nervous chuckles as we grab our clothes and race out the door.