The Do-Over(20)

Laughing, “No. Those were retired long ago.” Slowly, I crossed my legs the other way.

“I’ll bet you’re wearing a black thong.” His top lip pulled back into that smile/sneer. He was kind of a Rob Lowe with an Elvis smile going on.

“No, I’m not a thong girl. They are really uncomfortable. I’m all about comfort.” I was officially trashed and on the verge of pulling a Sharon Stone move on this player. Trying to focus on the sexual tension and his good looks, I didn’t want to think about the disappointment. What had seemed like a promising connection over the last two weeks held no promise at all. The man was a player. A horn dog. Beginning and end of story. I didn’t even want to begin to wrap my brain around how many women he’d slept with in his life.

“Comfort, huh? Did you wear your Granny panties for me?”

That made me laugh just as I was sipping my drink and I began to choke. He patted me on the back a few times and I took another sip.

Nodding, “I did. I wore the white cotton ones for you.” I kidded, pausing to take another sip of the spicy deliciousness before letting my filter completely disintegrate. With a smile, “I figured they’d be best to absorb any moisture.”

His eyes bore into mine as if I’d just reached forward and unzipped his Dockers. “You’d really be better with a polyester to wick the moisture away.” His words were incongruous with the intensity of his stare.

“I can’t believe you know that,” I laughed.

“Yeah, well…” he shrugged, as if that were an explanation, his gaze still holding mine.

I was reaching the bottom of my glass again in an effort to occupy my hands and mouth. Three drinks and no food, my fingertips were numb. Was this guy going to feed me or what?

“Let me run to the Ladies’ Room before we get a table.” I hoped he’d take the hint and be seated at a table with menus when I returned from the bathroom.

My step down from the barstool was daunting, but my feet hit the floor with more grace than I could’ve imagined in my highly inebriated state. Smoothing my dress down before I walked away, I caught Matthew’s eyes tracking my hands as they moved over my hips.

“Be right back,” I smiled.

The hallway toward the restrooms was narrow with uneven wide-planked wood floors. It was hard not to bang into the walls as I walked. My heels didn’t like the knotty pine boards beneath them. The second door I came upon was labeled, Loo, and with a laugh, I opened the door and felt along the wall for a light switch.

His body was behind mine moving me into the bathroom before I’d even flipped the switch. With one muscular arm wrapped around my breasts, he had moved me into the Colonial-decorated room and locked the door behind him. His other hand swiftly encased my throat, pulling my head back into him.

“You may not have gotten on your knees for the dentist, Carissa, but you’re going to get on them for me.” The arm that was wrapped around my breasts slid down my body, while his other hand remained firmly around my neck.

Pushing up my dress, he slid his hand under the thin material, his fingers beginning their exploration. “Commando,” he laughed. “I should have guessed.” And he continued his journey, maneuvering his hand around to the front of my body, pressing his flat palm against my lower abdomen until I was flush against him.

As his grip on my neck tightened slightly, I felt his warm breath just underneath his hand followed almost immediately by the scraping of his teeth. I shuddered, losing balance on my strappy sandals and melting into him. He took advantage of my unsteadiness, sliding his hand from my abdomen to between my legs.

“So smooth.” He ran his fingers over my newly waxed skin. “You did this for me, didn’t you, Carissa? You wanted me to explore your sweet, velvety *. So, so soft.” His hand around my neck continued to slowly tighten as his fingers ventured deeper into me. “You were so considerate, Carissa. I’m really touched. I love ramming into a naked *. And to wear a dress with no underwear. Mmm, mmm. Very, very thoughtful. You’ve made my life so easy today. All I have to do is bend you over that sink and push your dress up to f*ck you.”

Loosening his grip on my neck, his hand traveled up my face slowly, his fingers entering my hairline like the rakes of a comb until he reached the top of my head, where he filled his fist with my hair. In one swift movement, he wrenched my head to the right, exposing the left side of my neck to his waiting teeth. I yelped, not sure whether it was from the delicious pain tingling along my scalp or the searing sensation at the base of my neck.

“When was the last time you sucked a cock?” his voice was gruff.

I was thinking about his question, trying to remember a time when I wanted Frank in my mouth. Matthew yanked my hair, demanding an answer.

Shaking my head, “Too long ago to remember.”

“Your * ex had no idea what to do with a beautiful, confident woman. A woman like you knows exactly what to do with a cock. Not like his twenty-something wife who needs to be trained.”

This man was not only hot, he was brilliant. He knew that would clinch the deal. There was no way, especially in my loose drunken state, that I was not going to prove to him that some post-pubescent piece of arm candy had anything on me. I was a woman. A real woman. With the battle scars and newbie little crow’s feet, just starting to take up residence on my face, to prove it.