Chapter 2: Brooks
I wonder if I should just strip for them. I'm not particularly shy about my body. I might not be stripper-level ripped, or even a good dancer, but I could fake it for a couple minutes and then maybe then they'll settle down and go the fuck to sleep. I must be truly desperate to get some peace and quiet, or I would never consider this.
The frisky lady in the leopard-print suit hoots at me and selects a song on her phone. Familiar lyrics followed by an iconic BWOW WOW. The unmistakable first beats of You Give Love a Bad Name blasts out of the in-room sound system. I rub my hand down my face.
"Bon Jovi? Really?"
Leopard-print Lady starts a chorus of WOOs but the stunning woman still standing by the door doesn't join in. Instead, she watches me with a distrustful, almost appraising expression on her face. Like she can't figure me out.
She seems less drunk than the rest of the party, which isn't saying much, but she's not jumping on the couch or wearing her underwear over her dress. Her sexy curves and bright green eyes are shown off to perfection in her little blue dress. Long black hair falls in soft, touchable curls. My hands flex, dying to get tangled up in it.
She's not just pretty. She's fucking beautiful, but more than that, something in her eyes has my cock stirring in my pants. I’ve never felt drawn to a woman like this. I feel like I need her even though, logically, I know I can’t have her. She’s just passing through.
“Yeah, sorry ladies. I’m not a strip--”
“TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF!” Chants the brunette wearing a lacy bra on top of her dress. Green Eyes cocks an eyebrow. One part challenge and one part curiosity. I can tell she wouldn’t mind if I lost a few pieces of clothing.
A frustrated growl rips its way out of my body. Fine. Whatever. I just want them to go to bed so I can sleep. I’ll never see any of them again anyway, right? They’ll be leaving and heading back to wherever they came from. Boston, if the accents are anything to go on.
The woman in the bride sash throws her hands over her eyes, but I’m not worried about her. I lock eyes with the woman by the door as I unbutton the rest of my shirt. Her pretty mouth hangs open as she watches me. I can think of a dozen dirty and obscene things to do with that mouth. Her gaze slides down my bare chest, lower, lower, lower… So I pop the button on my jeans and kick my boots off. I’ll do this all night if she’s the one watching me.