Intense, that's what I'd call it. If I had to pick a word, really.
Sure. Intense.
Just thinking about it makes me want a cigarette. And I've never smoked in my eithgtteen years of life. It would just feel... right? Hell, if she'd asked me to, I would have lit up a whole pack. She had me exactly where she wanted me.
She still does.
She's the girl I can't have, the girl I shouldn't want, you know? I mean, everybody wants her, but they just shouldn't. Especially since she dates my friend.
Lucky prick.
Fortunately enough, I heard through the grapevine that she was getting tired of fucking him, and that's how it all began.
It was raining outside, and Lil Twist's favorite thing to do on rainy summer nights is throw parties at the brand new mansion they own together. Calls were made, catering was ordered, and alcohol was stockpiled in the fridge. Before long, every close friend of our family surrounded me and I was feeling so good, I was tempted to take a lap around what had become the dance floor.
You're right, there were shots involved. And it helped that, on said dance floor, she was moving like I've never seen her move before.
Oh, I had heard about it, sure. More than I care to remember, honestly.
There would be lunches where Lil Twist couldn't stop reminiscing about their bedtime romps and breaks where he would go on and on about their mid-morning wake-up calls. I knew all her tricks, and I knew she played dirty, but hearing it only made me more desperate to feel it.
And whenever I got the chance to see her body snaking around like it was that wonderful night, nothing could pull me away.
That night, in fact, something pulled me in. And who was I to say no?
She saw me watching her as her hips swayed from side to side, matching the rhythm of the thick hip-hop bass. I lifted my longneck to my lips before taking a swig, hoping the cold beer would cool off my flushing cheeks.
I must have looked like such a loser.
Clearing my throat, I looked down at the lion on the label, wishing I could be more aggressive.
Like my friend.
As the thought flashed through my mind, I lifted my gaze to find my hauntings happening in front of me. Lil Twist had an arm dangling over her shoulder and down across her chest, anchoring her against his body while he rocked it in time with hers. Her smile hinted to the secrets they shared together, a lot sensual and a little bit sideways. Her delicate hands rested on her upper thighs, pressing her back into an arch as her rear caressed him.
Fucker.
If there was one thing I hated more than not being with her, it was being jealous of my friend.
I guess you could say it was then that I lost every ounce of decency. Yeah, I suppose that's legit. After all, I'm not good with competition.
Her eyes locked with mine, and my whole body quivered. I can still feel the chills. She winked at me before leaning her head on Lil Twist's shoulder, letting his lips fall against her own. I saw her take his hand, leading him out of the gyrating mass of people and into the kitchen. I leaned back against the cool leather of the couch, stretching to see through the short hallway to where they were standing.
"Come on, Justin," she yelled over the thumping speakers, "Do a shot with us!"
I struggled with my instincts to vault off the couch and, instead, rose steadily, downing the rest of my beer as I made my way into the kitchen. She must have liked the way it looked, because her eyes changed, you know? Like when a girl goes from indifferent to interested.
