SHOT CLOCK #3
Viggo got hot while standing over the stove, so he removed his vest and t-shirt, slinging them over the back of a chair.
The more he and Prischa drank, the easier it was to laugh and dance or sing when certain songs played.
When he’d finished whipping up the tacos, Oz and Henna joined them, and the four sat around the table, stuffing their faces and laughing until their cheeks and stomachs ached.
“Pri, you mind if we go watch a flick in the guest room?” Henna checked after clearing four tacos and three more shots of tequila.
“Nah, go ahead.”
“I only fuck with hood flicks, Henna. Don’t be trying to put me on no romantic comedy shit,” Oz warned, letting Henna lead him up the back staircase.
“She gon’ have that nigga up there into that Twilight shit and all them other movies she like.” Viggo chuckled.
“Oh, my God, this song is classic!” Prischa snapped to “Sweet Thing” by Rufus featuring Chaka Khan and smiled drunkenly.
“You don’t know nothing about no Chaka Khan.” Viggo snapped and stood, singing in a high-pitched voice and making faces that left Prischa falling over laughing. “Come on, Pri. Show me what you got, baby!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her off the stool.
She was still wearing her heels, so she stumbled a little and collided with his bare, muscular chest. Viggo grabbed her hand and placed the other on the small of her back, so he could lead her in two stepping.
“I didn’t know you could cook or two step, Viggo,” she said, getting into it as his third leg joined the party against her thigh.
“A nigga full of surprises, Pri.” Leaning forward, his smoldering brown eyes burned into hers.
With his hand holding hers against his chest, she was able to feel the erratic beat of his heart. The flicker of need in his eyes and his arms around her put her in a daze. Somehow, he’d helped her forget all her troubles and reminded her that there was a little more to life.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said, studying his hand holding hers as he pressed his lips gently against her forehead and pulled her closer.
“What’s that?” he whispered.
“Trying to make me laugh and make me feel good.”
“Is it working?’ he asked, peering down into her eyes.
“Maybe.”
“I just want you to remember you a bad bitch with or without a man, Pri. Any nigga would be lucky to have you, and if they don’t want you… that’s their fucking loss,” Viggo stated.
She’d always thought he was handsome, with those big ass, juicy, Kane from Menace to Society lips, perfect shaped nose with a little pointed tip, and inwardly slanted acorn brown eyes that had this little twinkle in them most of the time.
Like he was reading her mind, Viggo dipped his head lower and snatched her soul through one passionate, nasty kiss while scooping her up at the same time.
With her thighs cuffed under his arms, he never broke the exchange as he carried her over to the kitchen counter and sat her on top.
Supple pecks to her neck left Prischa’s neck rolling as her head hit the cabinet behind her.
“Ugn!” She moaned as Viggo’s hand gave her breast a squeeze through the thin material of her dress.
When he pulled back, hunger blazing behind his gaze, she reached up to untie her dress, allowing it to fall past her breasts.
Panting heavily, she whimpered when his lips found her nipple.
His tongue circled it before he moved to the other and did the same thing.
Viggo broke away for another kiss, cuffing her by the throat and sliding his tongue across hers in slow strokes.
Her arms fell around his back, clawing at his flesh with her almond shaped acrylics.
He eased himself between her legs, his rough hands gripping her thighs before breaking their kiss and pshing her panties to the side.
Face to face with her wet folds, he gently pecked them before inserting his tongue. Prischa almost came on contact.
Viggo sucked her into his mouth, latching onto her and circling her clit with his tongue as her hands fell to her sides to keep herself balanced.
Lips parted, head damn near about to burst through her oak cabinets, she screamed to the highest power as he sent her over the edge.
Convulsions ripped through her, crippling her voice and robbing her of her next breath.
“Shit taste like fucking candy, Pri. All sweet and shit,” Viggo spoke against her lips but didn’t let up on eating.
“What is happening down he—” Henna rushed from the back stairs but stopped before reaching the bottom.
Prischa and Viggo were oblivious to her presence as he sent her into another powerful orgasm. Simpering and shaking her head, Henna quietly backed away and went to mind her own business, rooting for her girl the whole time.
“Everything straight down there?” Oz asked from the queen-sized bed in the guestroom.
He’d taken his shirt off, and they’d both showered and got comfortable with a few snacks and more drank. Now that they were alone, he had her nervous as she slid into the bed beside him.
“Yeah. We should leave them alone for a while.” She stuck her hand in the bowl of popcorn and hit play on the first Twilight movie.