~ ~ Alex ~ ~
The woman I'd been trying to not so subtly look at for the last hour looked my way, again.
Shit. I looked down, rubbing my sweaty palms on my freshly dry-cleaned trousers. Christ, I would need to get them cleaned again.
Loser! said the voice in my head.
But I had to agree. A sexy, spank worthy hot woman kept looking my way and all I could do was blush like a virgin and glance down at my half drank warm beer.
Could I be any more lame?
Here's a thought, Loser. Go talk to her!
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Easier said than done.
Yeah, you're right, you'll stutter like a fucking idiot.
Christ, I hated that voice, and tonight it was so fucking loud—like surround sound loud.
I'm sure a therapist would have a whale of a time with my daily self-deprecating conversations.
But there was something about this woman. I first noticed her cloud of gorgeous of black curly hair, as well as her mouthwatering arse that could easily give that singer... whatshername... Lopez? A run for her money. It also caught the man's downstairs attention—not so subtly pressing against my zipper.
Then, when she turned around. Holy-shit! My eyes tripped over the rest of her body in profile. The dress she had on scooped low over the swells of her perky tits and just like it hugged her arse, it moulded itself to all those sweet curves, hitting her at mid-thigh. I wondered what knickers she had on—or perhaps she wore a g-string? I didn't even try to tame the images of me holding both her wrists in one hand and putting them above her head and swallowing her mouth... sucking on her tongue and biting that smooth neck.
Fuck. If I kept up those thoughts, I'd have a permanent zipper mark imprinted on my dick.
And her body may have been a knockout, but her face was nothing short of stunning. And I'd sucked in a breath and still didn't feel like I had enough air in my lungs. Delicate features inside a heart shape with golden—brown skin. High cheekbones and cheesy as it sounds, bee-stung lips that I would sell my soul to see slide up my dick.
However, it was her eyes that stole the show, even from where I sat they were like dark pools of chocolate but when the light hit them it gave her expression an intensity that grabbed me by the balls. Hell, she was a walking fantasy and then some.
But who was I kidding here? She'd most likely never let me near her. Women like her didn't go for guys like me. She was so out of my league she might as well be in outer-space.
That's even if she was single—which was very fucking doubtful.
Then why did she keep looking my way?
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Ivy's Sex Ed
RomanceRemember Ivy from End Game? Well, she's back with her own story. But don't worry if you haven't read End Game, this can be read as a standalone. We follow Ivy as she returns to London having been offered a job at Risk, the Kink Club owned by Za...