She grins wide and shakes her glorious, full hips playfully as she steps out of her jeans. She twirls in an exaggerated, if playful, modeling move. The matching thong in hot pink lace has a double waistband separated by a thin strip of fabric in the middle and a little pink bow. As she turns, I get a glimpse of the triangle strip of cloth that disappears into her perfect, plump ass. Did I mention the thong is also see-through? And I get a clear glimpse of her bare flesh before she sits down again, crossing her legs under the coffee table. She’s completely shaved. I shut my eyes tight and sneak my hand under the cushion on my lap. I grip my shaft tightly, begging it to go down.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Karl Sommer,” she says with a smirk, and we keep playing.
The next point goes to her, and I spin around to take off my sweats, grabbing the cushion to cover my front when I turn around again to sit. No way I’m letting her innocent eyes see my dick print through my underwear.
“You’re cheating, Mr. Sommer,” Lola says, and my eyes narrow at her.
I feel the pre-ejaculate seep out of me when she calls me Mr. Sommer. “I told you not to fucking call me Mr. Sommer,” I bark.
She rolls her eyes and sips her beer. When I pay attention to the game again, realization hits me like a bolt of lightning. We’re both one point away from winning. The same point.The hand. My line of four horizontal will be complete ifthe handcomes up, but so will her line of four vertical.
My pulse quickens as we take turns drawing cards. I have to screamLoteríafirst. I just have to. As we pull cards, we’re both on edge, and I’m repeating the word over and over in my head,Lotería, Lotería, Lotería.
Then I peek at the corner of the hand as I flip a card over, and before she has a chance to, I scream, “Lotería” at the top of my lungs. I spring to my feet with excitement. I beat her to it; I did it. When I look at her, her mouth hangs open.
When I stood up, the cushion fell off my lap, and my hard cock is straining to get free of my boxer briefs. “Lola!” I snap. “Look away. For fuck’s sake.”
She giggles and turns her attention to stacking the cards neatly and sticking items into the game box.
I put my sweats back on and sit next to her again as she puts everything away.
“Guess this means no sex for me,” Lola says with mock disappointment.
“That’s right. But you’ll be twenty thousand dollars richer and will become a kick-ass guitar player.”
“That’s too bad. I guess I’ll have to wait to have sex in Mexico.”
“What the fuck did you say?”
She turns to me with a questioning look in her eyes. “What? You said no seeing other people while we’re pretending to be together, so the two-month countdown begins now.”
“Lola,” I breathe out, closing my eyes with pain. I open them again and grab her chin between my index and forefinger, forcing her eyes on mine. “Lola, don’t have sex just to have sex. You deserve to do it with someone who loves you—”
“Did you?” she asks.
“Did I what?”
“Did you love your first sexual partner?”
I intake a deep breath. “This isn’t about me, doll. You’re special—I just know it. And you deserve everything good in this world.”
Her eyes drop to my lips, and I want to kiss her. I do—but I don’t dare do it. I also can’t move, so it’s Lola who goes in for it. I feel like the biggest asshole on earth, because I turn my face away, giving her my cheek instead. Her lips are soft against my cheek. She’s been chewing the watermelon gum; I can tell because even after drinking beer, the overpowering fruity smell lingers on her breath, so close to me. I want to give in, to kiss her, but I know I shouldn’t.
Lola doesn’t seem fazed by my rejection.
With our eyes locked, Lola repositions herself to come up and over me. She straddles my lap and grinds her hips over my erection through my sweats. I groan into her neck, and it feels so damn good.
Somehow, I manage to stop myself. I twist my hand around her hair a few times and pull her away from me. Both our chests are heaving with labored breaths, and we look at each other, a little stunned.
Without letting go of my grip on her hair, I dust her cheekbone with my thumb. “Lola, listen to me.”
She nods, and I keep talking. “I want you. I really,reallyfucking want you. I need you to know that.”
“Then have me,” she says in a small voice that attacks my defenses.
“No, doll. I need you to know I want you because I don’t want you to feel rejected. I’m not rejecting you. But I can’t have sex with you. Do you understand?”
She chews her bottom lip, and though her face can’t fall with my grip on her hair, her eyes drop to my bare chest. Then she nods.