“She left when I was a kid - my real mom - if that’s what you were going to ask. My dad did one thing my entire life that I really appreciated, and that was dating Melanie. I remember praying they would get married and she really would be my mother. Although their relationship was brief, Melanie made sure my dad let me come over. I ended up spending more time here than at home.”
Shallow Tag is very hard to resist. Real Tag... this is going to end badly for, but I'm going to enjoy the ride.
***
Tag
I can’t believe I just told her that. What the hell am I thinking? I never talk about this shit. I swear I’ve lost the filter on my mouth around her.
“I’m surprised Billy never mentioned that to me,” she murmurs softly while staring directly into my eyes.
I could get lost in her stormy blues. I barely know her, but she's getting inside my damn head. How the hell do I get her out?
“Bity never appreciated his mother’s affections toward me. He was a jealous kid with a chip on his shoulder. I’m sure there’s a lot he hasn’t told you about his family.”
Like all the fucked up shit he’s done.
She half smiles, and then I see her shivering as the wind picks up.
“Cold?” I muse as more of the bursting beauties light up the sky.
“A little. I was on my way to my room to grab a blanket before the firework show, when I heard the music playing in your room.”
Is that really the only reason she lingered outside my room? I hate feeling all the damn uncertainty she causes. There are so many mixed signals. It’s making my head hurt. I feel like a fucking chick. I'm so going to lose my man card if she keeps messing with my head.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmur while jumping up and heading to the room.
I grab the tan, velvety blanket dressing the chair, and then I head back out to take my seat beside her, scooting even closer. I wrap the blanket around her, and then I risk throwing my arm around her shoulders and tucking her against my body.
I expect her to scoff and peel my arm off, but she doesn’t. Instead, she snuggles up against me as we sip the champagne straight from the bottle and stare up at the firework display in a comfortable silence.
I’ve never spent time with a girl in this way, and it’s surprising me how easy this all feels. I’m too comfortable around her, and I don’t know when to shut up. It’s as if I’ve lost all my game.
Chapter Three
Truth or Truth
Tag
Her body is pressed tightly against mine, her leg is tossed over my waist, and her white skirt has ridden up high enough to show me her white thong. How dare she be this hot and yet this hard to get. It's not nice. Not nice at all.
Her red shirt has stretched in her sleep, and it drapes down enough to give me a glimpse of the sexy white lace bra she’s wearing. I’ve never been so jealous of a bra.
Her leg hugs my waist a little more as she stirs in her sleep, and I tighten
my grip as her center presses against my early morning erection.
The tip of my cock is almost painfully pulsating, and it’s excruciating to resist the urge to fuck her into waking up. I want to be inside her, feel every bit of that wetness meant for me.
Her skirt slides up farther, giving me a full view of her glorious ass that curves incredibly and taunts me with its perfection.
I’ve never slept with a girl and managed to not sleep with them. This is definitely a first, but after four bottles of champagne, neither of us were thinking straight. I’m almost certain I could have fucked her, but I wouldn’t do that while she was drunk.
I might be jerk, but I’m not a complete creep. Besides, I want this girl sober when I make her scream my name.
My hand starts sliding up her ass when I can’t deny the urge any longer, and I tug her gently as my cock burns with desire.
I'm tired of playing.