More Than Forever(48)

I gently rub her shoulders. "We can keep—"

"This will do." She pulls me by my shirt and closes the door behind me.

And all of a sudden I'm nervous. Because I let my dick think for me, and I have absolutely no idea how far she plans on pleasing it.

"I don't want to have sex," she says casually.

The tension leaves my shoulders.

I'm about to ask her what she wants but some asshole decides to bang on the door. She huffs out a frustrated breath, opens the door slightly and peeks out. Then a roar of laughter escapes her. I open the door wider so I can see what the hell's so funny. Matt and Tess are holding hands on the other side.

"What's funny, bitch?" Tess clips.

Lucy just laughs harder.

Tess steps forward, but Matt holds her back.

"The whore and the pindick," Lucy snorts. "Isn't that like throwing a hotdog down a hallway?"

I stifle my laugh.

"Yeah?" Tess says, her eyes narrowing and her neck snapping when she adds, "I blew your boyfriend's hotdog two weeks ago."

Okay. So, this one time Logan made me watch a video of these two hot chicks rolling on the ground throwing punches. He asked if I thought it was hot. I told him yes, but I lied. I didn't see the appeal in it at all.

I guess I just needed one of those chicks to be Lucy.

Picking her up from her sitting position on Tess's stomach, I throw her over my shoulder and go back in the bathroom. Slowly, I set her on her feet and wait for her heaving breaths to settle. When they finally do she looks up at me, her eyes already narrowed. "It's true isn't it?"

"What?" I can't help but laugh. It's just as absurd as that time Mom thought I got Lucy pregnant.

"She blew you!"

I laugh harder.

And you know why?

Because.

WOMEN. ARE. DUMB.

A snarl forms on her lips, and her eyes fill with rage. I sense it before I see it. Her palm raised, ready for an attack. I grip her wrist roughly.

Her eyes thin to slits.

She tries it again with her other hand.

I do the same thing.

"I hate you," she says. She bites her lip. The rage in her eyes are long gone and replaced with something else completely. Lust.

I use my body to pin her to the wall, my hands still holding her firmly in place .

Bending my knees, I place an open mouth kiss on her neck. "You love me."

-LUCY-

He's pinning me against the wall with his body, one of his legs between mine, pushing into my center while his hard-on presses against my stomach. I want to touch him. Everywhere. But his grip on my hands tightens every time I try to move.

"I hate you," I say again.

He smiles, that same cocky smile he gets when he knows he's turning me on.

He raises my arms above my head and holds them in place with one hand, the other moving to my chin, lifting it so he can look into my eyes. Whatever he sees makes his eyes widen slightly. He blinks once, long and hard—like he's trying to refocus. He leans down, licking his lips as he does, then runs his tongue lightly between my lips. "You don't hate me," he whispers.

But my mind is a fog and I have no clue what the hell we're even talking about anymore. "Yes I do," I say anyway.

He pulls back, that same cocky smile still in place. He moves his hand from my chin, down my neck and onto my chest. The backs of his fingers brush down my strained nipples. My hips jerk forward, grinding into his leg. His hand flattens on my stomach, moving higher and lifting my shirt. I feel the cold air hit my breasts before I realize what’s happening. He pulls his leg back; the same time I feel the warmth of his breath between my breasts. I arch my back, inviting him for more.

Dammit, I need more. I reach for him, but his grip on my hands tightens, again. "I want to touch you."

"I thought you hated me."

I'm too far gone. Not from the buzz of the alcohol, but from letting him have me like this. "I do hate you," I breathe out.

He moves his hand to my back, his fingers deftly unzipping my skirt. It falls silently and bunches at my feet.

"I bet you don't," he murmurs, his teeth brushing against my nipple. He runs a finger between my legs, over my panties. "Yup," he says, popping the 'p'. "You definitely don't hate me."

His hand moves under my panties and onto my ass. Moaning, he starts to move in again.

I turn my head to the side, avoiding his kiss. "I want to touch you. Please, Cameron." I feel his fingers relax on my wrists, and I try to move. This time he lets me.

I flatten my palms under his shirt and finger the dips of his abs.

He pushes my panties past my hips, past my ass, and watches them fall to the floor. Then he dips his finger inside me, slowly moving in and out.

I unbutton and unzip his jeans and roughly tug them down. I sense his body go rigid, but I don't stop, not until he's freed and my fingers are curled around him. I moan when I feel the warmth of his dick in my hands. "Show me what to do?"