Dive

Nine

"You live in the area?"

The music is loud, louder than it usually is at the Cloud, but on Saturdays, when the college kids come out to play, it has a tendency to amp up the noise level, yet I still manage to hear the question I was just asked.

I purse my lips to keep from grinning and leisurely turn my head to look at the gorgeous redhead beside me. It's been about an hour since she sauntered up to my spot, all long legs, and sun-kissed skin. She looks young, younger than me, but this place is usually pretty consistent at checking ID, so I know she's at least twenty-one.

She leans forward a bit, under the pretense of hearing my answer better, but all it does is push up her cleavage in my face, which I'm guessing was her goal. And what a cleavage it is. Damn.

I lift an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think I would tell you if I did?"

She presses a hand to her exposed chest area, eyes widening in outrage, but there's a mischievous smile lingering on her red lips, matching her flaming auburn hair. "You would lie to me?"

"It's talking-to-strangers 101. Never tell them where you live."

She swats my arm playfully. "That's talking to strange men. It doesn't count between women."

"Oh." I lick my lips slowly. "And who told you that?"

"This woman I met..." She gasps, looking at me with amusement. "I've been played!"

I can't hold in the laugh that escapes me. She's cute. "Sorry, but that's what you get for being young and naive."

"I might be young," she begins, leaning in even closer, her hair wafting around my face and a hint of her fruity perfume lingering in the air between us. "But I am far from naive."

"Prove it."

It doesn't take us long to gather our belongings, her calling a goodbye to the girls she came with, who all regard me with narrowed eyes, probably to check for the possibility that I might end up murdering their friend. But they let her leave with me without protest, so I'm taking that as proof that I don't give off too bad Ted Bundy vibes.

A short cab ride later, we stumble into her dorm room, a giggling mess of hot kisses and exploring touches.

I run a hand up her top, gently brushing her exposed tits, feeling her shiver in my hold. Her fingers are tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as her tongue meets mine in a playful and promising sort of way. She clearly knows what to do with that tongue.

My hands run down to the hem of her blouse, and I pull away slightly to regain eye contact. She has stunning green-blue eyes framed by long, fair eyelashes. As they meet mine, I quirk an eyebrow in a silent question. She nods her head and lifts her hands above her head, so I can remove her shirt.

There are many good qualities in men when it comes to sex. Like they're easy to please - sometimes too easy - and the whole I'm a big alpha male-thing can be very hot, but in one regard, they will always be inferior to women, and that's when it comes to tits.