to be such a fucking ass all the time?” I shot back, but I could feel the all-too-familiar heat creeping up my cheeks.
“I bet those girls would love it. They’d be all over you, trying to make you blush more. You’re a goddamn chick magnet.”
“Probably the only reason you want me to tag along. You can’t get their attention on your own. You need me to be with you or they’ll ignore you and your ugly face.”
“Nah, Babs.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m hot. Girls are all over me. I just want to bring you along because you’re so damn sheltered. You need to experience things. You need to live a little.”
“I’ve lived plenty.” Living didn’t mean I had to experience the wrong things, though, and I had lived enough to see that for myself.
“Yeah?” He raised a skeptical brow. “Tell me about the last chick you banged.”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I said, knowing even before the words left my mouth that he would take it as proof he was right about my supposed sheltered existence.
“Yeah, whatever, Babs.” He rolled himself closer to me, draping his arms over the back of the chair and resting his chin on them. “Look, I’ll get us started. Met a girl after the game last week. Brunette. Long legs. Tiny tits. She didn’t even have a fucking bra on. Realized that when I got her up to my room and got her clothes off. Sucked my cock like a champ, and she made the sexiest fucking sounds when I pounded her from behind. She had no ass, though. No cushion, and I was practically bruised once I was done with her.”
I tried to brush it off, tried to stop picturing what he’d described, because he was my friend and that felt all sorts of wrong, but it wouldn’t go away. “So what was her name?” I finally asked.
“Not a fucking clue. She probably told me at one point, but it wasn’t important.”
I could only let out a grunting sort of sound, and I felt heat racing to my cheeks again. Damn blushing.
“She was just a one-night stand, Babs. It wasn’t ever going to be more than that.”
“You could have at least asked her name.”
“And she could have lied to me about it.”
I supposed he had a point, but he was deliberately ignoring mine.
“So tell me about yours,” Razor said. “Something tells me you knew her name. She was probably your girlfriend, wasn’t she? You two getting married soon or something? That who you were on the phone with when I got here?” He nodded toward my cell.
“I was talking to my billet family if you really have to know.”
“Talking to a girl would have been better. Fucking a girl would have been best.” He grinned.
I gave him a go-to-hell look.
“Shit,” he spluttered, trying and failing to hold back a laugh. “You’re a fucking virgin, aren’t you? Tell me you’re not a virgin.”
My blush told him everything he needed to know. I wanted to bury my head in the sand and never come up for air.
“Holy hell. You really are a virgin.”
“Does it matter?” I shot back.
“No, of course not,” he said, but he was practically snorting.
“Screw you.”
“No, thanks. I doubt you’d bruise my hip bones with that big ass you’ve got, but you’re not exactly my type. Besides, I doubt you want me to be your first. But this just further reinforces the idea that we should hit the strip club tonight.”
“And why is that?”
“So maybe by the time you actually get around to popping your own cherry, you can do it without blushing like a fucking girl.”
IT TURNED OUT to be a night I wouldn’t soon forget. Razor was true to his word about having a connection to get us into the club. No one even asked to see our IDs; the bouncer waved us through, and a scantily clad woman walked us right up to the stage. She deposited us in front-row seats and returned a few minutes later with two beers, winking and jiggling breasts that were barely contained in a bra top that was more string than fabric at me before walking away.
“Told you,”
“I bet those girls would love it. They’d be all over you, trying to make you blush more. You’re a goddamn chick magnet.”
“Probably the only reason you want me to tag along. You can’t get their attention on your own. You need me to be with you or they’ll ignore you and your ugly face.”
“Nah, Babs.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m hot. Girls are all over me. I just want to bring you along because you’re so damn sheltered. You need to experience things. You need to live a little.”
“I’ve lived plenty.” Living didn’t mean I had to experience the wrong things, though, and I had lived enough to see that for myself.
“Yeah?” He raised a skeptical brow. “Tell me about the last chick you banged.”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I said, knowing even before the words left my mouth that he would take it as proof he was right about my supposed sheltered existence.
“Yeah, whatever, Babs.” He rolled himself closer to me, draping his arms over the back of the chair and resting his chin on them. “Look, I’ll get us started. Met a girl after the game last week. Brunette. Long legs. Tiny tits. She didn’t even have a fucking bra on. Realized that when I got her up to my room and got her clothes off. Sucked my cock like a champ, and she made the sexiest fucking sounds when I pounded her from behind. She had no ass, though. No cushion, and I was practically bruised once I was done with her.”
I tried to brush it off, tried to stop picturing what he’d described, because he was my friend and that felt all sorts of wrong, but it wouldn’t go away. “So what was her name?” I finally asked.
“Not a fucking clue. She probably told me at one point, but it wasn’t important.”
I could only let out a grunting sort of sound, and I felt heat racing to my cheeks again. Damn blushing.
“She was just a one-night stand, Babs. It wasn’t ever going to be more than that.”
“You could have at least asked her name.”
“And she could have lied to me about it.”
I supposed he had a point, but he was deliberately ignoring mine.
“So tell me about yours,” Razor said. “Something tells me you knew her name. She was probably your girlfriend, wasn’t she? You two getting married soon or something? That who you were on the phone with when I got here?” He nodded toward my cell.
“I was talking to my billet family if you really have to know.”
“Talking to a girl would have been better. Fucking a girl would have been best.” He grinned.
I gave him a go-to-hell look.
“Shit,” he spluttered, trying and failing to hold back a laugh. “You’re a fucking virgin, aren’t you? Tell me you’re not a virgin.”
My blush told him everything he needed to know. I wanted to bury my head in the sand and never come up for air.
“Holy hell. You really are a virgin.”
“Does it matter?” I shot back.
“No, of course not,” he said, but he was practically snorting.
“Screw you.”
“No, thanks. I doubt you’d bruise my hip bones with that big ass you’ve got, but you’re not exactly my type. Besides, I doubt you want me to be your first. But this just further reinforces the idea that we should hit the strip club tonight.”
“And why is that?”
“So maybe by the time you actually get around to popping your own cherry, you can do it without blushing like a fucking girl.”
IT TURNED OUT to be a night I wouldn’t soon forget. Razor was true to his word about having a connection to get us into the club. No one even asked to see our IDs; the bouncer waved us through, and a scantily clad woman walked us right up to the stage. She deposited us in front-row seats and returned a few minutes later with two beers, winking and jiggling breasts that were barely contained in a bra top that was more string than fabric at me before walking away.
“Told you,”
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