H I M

birthday boy

L O R E N Z O

I hate parties. Especially ones where I didn't know anybody—and I didn't plan on making friends with anyone.

Sitting on the wall was perfectly fine by me but to Lorenzo it was unacceptable. When he beckoned me over pass the velvet rope I decided to keep my distance and sit as far away from him as I could while still being in the illuminating light.

This was the only time where being horny and sweaty was acceptable in a loud, dark room with flashing lights. If it wasn't for the birthday boy I wouldn't have come. I'd do anything to see him in all his glory. The light he was under lit up the space but his eyes were darker than the dance floor; the light stilled on his hair that no matter under what light, it appeared brown. His legs spread comfortably with his arms resting on the back of the booth. Carefully colored hues peeked, from the shadow his hair casted, like the tattoos engraved down his arms and fingers.

Black on black seemed basic to me but somehow his light caramel skin and dark rimmed eyes made it sexy as hell.

The music was loud enough for the whole state to hear and the grinding body in the luminescent light was hypnotic but when I looked at him, he captured all my senses. His greenish-grey eyes stared at my basic browns.

He tilted his head, "I said come here." Now it was a command, before it was a suggestion. Breath slowly escaped my lungs and I marched over to his seat. Before I could get a word out he pulled me into his slack covered lap.

Arms wrapped around my middle, holding me prisoner as I tried to escape. "Don't worry. I don't bite," his mouth said one thing but his cotton-white canines said another.

Lorenzo's hands rested on the skin of my thighs—they could almost wrap around them. Despite the cool atmosphere in the VIP section, my body felt on fire. I could feel the sides of his mouth turned up slightly, as if remembering something.

"Rumor has it." His lips ghosted the side of my neck. "I get you nervous." I felt tiny in his hands when he squeezed my thighs. Shifting uncomfortably, I pulled a groan from the back of his throat. The vibration sent waves onto my neck and shoulder, shooting to the junction between my thighs.

"You don't get me nervous," I tried to force confidence while the light scent of scotch on his breath was intoxicating. Too much confidence it was and it sounded like a whimper.

"Is that so?" The back of his fingers caressed their way down my arms.

"So if I do this." He starts from my upper arm and lightly drags his index finger across my chocolate skin. "No butterflies?" Coming down to my thigh, his finger turned into a full hand on my knee and circling to the beginning of my thigh.

"Not at all," I played off. His game was too easy. Even when my body felt like a radiator at seventy-four degrees.

He then smiled that devil smile. Though I couldn't see it, it did things to me. He pushes hair behind my ear and pushes forward with his upper body. I could feel his rapid heart beat.

"How about this," he asks as his lips kiss near my earrings. His hand begins a trail directly under my chest. Sliding down my red, thigh length shirt and immediately stops an inch before the hem of my boy shorts. I opened my mouth to speak but something else distracted me. It was thick and hard, rested on his thigh and settled between mine.

Fuck. He was big.

"I like these," he comments on my thigh-high boots. A slight tug sends his hand up my sweater dress. My breath hitched when his fingers easily slid in the warmest part of my thighs. "You were right, I don't get you nervous," he mentions.