(Edited 7/27/18)
"We meet again, bitch."
I glare at my mirror, shaking my head as I tied the strap of the bikini around my neck. I'm lotioned up, I made sure I used my spray-on deodorant after I got out of the shower, and I've brushed my teeth again.
I pull on my coverup just as the bathroom door swings open, making me jump back. "Liam, get out!"
I decide not to pay attention to him as I pull out my makeup bag, getting out my mascara. I bend over the counter, leaning towards these mirror to make sure my eyelashes are just right.
I stand on my toes, trying not to slip because of my fuzzy socks as I swipe the wand over my eyes and I hear a deep, throaty groan from behind me.
Liam's hands travel from the back of my thighs, up my butt, and around my waist from the back, his front pressed against my ass. He leans down, his lips brushing over my ear as he speaks. "Fuck, you're so sexy."
"Boy move." I push him backwards with my butt. Big mistake. He jerks his hips forward, making my front hit the counter and I almost stab my eye out with the wand.
"You don't need makeup. You're pretty already." He plays with my hair.
"Awe, thanks." I say sarcastically, "Now get out so I can put on some clothes."
"You're already wearing clothes." He raises an eyebrow, staring at me in the mirror as if he's confused.
"Well, yeah, this bathing suit, but I'm probably not going to wear it so." I finish my other eye, and I look through the bag for some lipstick.
"Why not? You look fine as hell." He sets his hands firmly on my waist, looking down at my butt and my ears heat up. "Well, you might have to wear this thing here the whole time because I just might shoot somebody for looking at you." He tugs at my coverup.
"I just feel like it's showing too much," I step back in his hold, frowning. I give myself a once over in the mirror, my eyes lingering on my thunder thighs.
"You're annoying me." He rolls his eyes, moving completely away from me.
"How?" I raise my eyebrow, turning to face him.
"You're always so confident and shit when you're covered up or dressed up, but as soon as you wear something different, you down yourself. It's bullshit." He shrugs, leaning with his shoulder on the wall.
"Well, I'm sorry I look at myself differently when I'm wearing a bikini that's showing off every fucking flaw I have, Mr. Forte." I throw my hands up in the air, very glad I shaved everything.
I look smooth, baby.
"What fucking flaws?" He takes a step towards me, looking more intimidating. I swear he does this just to scare me sometimes.
"Stretch marks? Fucking lots of girls have stretch marks. Hell, skinny girls have stretch marks. They're real, they're natural, and I'd sure as hell rather my girl to have stretch marks and a natural body than none and a plastic body." By now, we're chest to stomach.
Yeah, chest to stomach.
I'm short.
Apparently, he's not done with his speech because before I could open my mouth respond, he fires off again.
"You fucking kill me sometimes because of how beautiful you are, you know that? Just about every morning, I'm fucking throbbing, because of you. At night, I'm hard as fuck, because of you. Because of you and your gorgeous face, and your perfect chest, and your wide hips, and your big ass, and your sexy legs, I go through immense pain. And fuck, I can't even get any!" He shakes his head in bewilderment.
YOU ARE READING
The Player in Him
Roman pour Adolescents"Why aren't you scared?" I whine and he laughs. "Come on, you wouldn't dare hurt me with that. It's too risky, and I can get out of this easily, babe." I can tell he's smirking and it's sickening. "Oh yeah? Try." I say confidently and in o...
