Beautiful Broken Promises(2)

“I want to...” My hand was over her mouth before she could even finish that maddening request.

“You’re talking way too damn much, baby girl.” I flipped on my back and scooted until I met the headboard. With my pants unbuttoned, I extended my hands out on each side of me in a welcoming gesture. “This is where you get me. Your call.”

She smirked and turned fully toward me. Her fingers pulled each of my socks off and she tossed them to the floor. She grabbed the hem of my pants and worked them down my legs. Those quickly joined the socks on the hardwood. Her eyes were immediately fixated between my legs and I knew what her decision would be. With a grin, I put my hands behind my head and rested against the headboard, watching as she crawled up my body.

“You’re just going to lay back and let me do all the work?” she asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Sweetheart, you’re the one that went home with a guy who drank half the bar.” I could feel my lids beginning to droop, the alcohol swimming wildly through my veins. She shrugged her shoulder casually and bent forward.

Her hot mouth began to go to town and it felt f*cking great. In my experience, only the girls who wore see-through clothes or skirts that barely covered their asses could do that kind of work with their mouths.

When I felt more than a hot mouth wrap around my dick, my eyes shot open and I looked up to find her smiling face above me. In a panic, I sat up ramrod straight and thankfully saw she had put a condom on for me. Close call.

What the hell just happened? Two seconds ago she was sucking me off and now she was riding me?

“You were enjoying that,” she whispered into my ear.

“Yeah...” Although I was pretty sure I had just fallen asleep. Hey, point for me that I kept it up while I took a little nap. At least she didn’t catch me.

“You feel so good,” she called out excitedly. I didn’t like the sound of her voice anymore. It was too loud…too nasally. Had it been like that at the bar? Surely Ethan would have told me if it was. Then again, he was probably more concerned with whether she was about to have a wardrobe malfunction—we all were. “Ethan!”

My hands grabbed a hold of her ass and I flipped her over onto her stomach, entering back in from behind. Much better.

As I pumped into her, I started questioning why guys felt the need to have sex all the time. It felt good, that was obvious. It was fun and it shook up an otherwise boring day. But in that moment, I wondered why I bothered with this girl. It would feel good and then she would go home. Thank God. There wouldn't be any lingering feelings for her, and no need to do it again. There would just be... nothing.

Shit, I needed to tell Ethan no more whiskey. It made me a f*cking sap.

I heard her cry out into the pillow and I assumed she had reached her release, so I let myself finish as well. With one last shuddering pulse, I fell to the side and closed my eyes while catching my breath.

The feeling that always came after every time I finished began to creep up on me. I didn’t know why I always seemed to forget how it felt—the feeling that I shouldn’t have been with yet another random chick. The sex definitely hadn't been worth it, but when I saw a pretty face and whiskey joined the party, I couldn’t seem to talk myself out of it.

My phone startled me with a resounding ring. With a foggy brain, I tried to decipher what the hell was going on. The blonde chick was lightly snoring next to me. Seriously, whiskey was not allowed on my bar menu anymore—it f*cked with my head. I thought that I needed something harder tonight, something to help the memories fade, but all it had done was make my brain muddled and confused. The beep of my phone reminded me that I had a message awaiting my attention.

“Hey, wake up,” I tried to whisper nicely. She stirred and swatted away my hand that was trying to gently rouse her. “Sugar, it’s time to go.”

“Stop, I’m trying to sleep, Ethan,” her voice grumbled.

I pulled the covers off of her naked body and tapped her ass. “Nope, it’s time to move it along. I have things to do.”

She glared up at me from her pillow and slowly pushed up onto her elbow. “You have things to do at...” She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and checked the illuminated screen. “At three-thirty in the morning? No...wake me when it’s at least eight.”

She searched for the covers again and I kicked them off the bed. I knew my phone was still in my pants, but I had to rack my brain to remember where those could be. Standing, I spotted them across the room, close to the bathroom door. I could see the alert light blinking through the dark fabric.