His Bet
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- Parts 68
Ongoing11h 6m
Last published Sun, Dec 9, 2018
I was breathing hard. I don't know what is this thing. Her face that pops on my mind became constant after that night. I can't even sleep because of her. And that moment I saw her dancing in the kitchen her arms show off as her hair fall prettily on her angel face doesn't help at all. It kept playing and playing inside my head. My muscles were tensed and hard when I think about her. That I even have to do a hand job to release this fucking heat she has instilled with me. Damn it.
"I'm not your type."
Yes. She's right. She wasn't my type.
Ace.
Jet black hair. Silver gray eyes. Pale white skin. So far of my blonde and tan qualification and yet I just did a fucking hand job thinking her body plastered with mine.
Fuck.
This can't be happening.
Lust. Yes, that's just it. I need to get fucking laid.
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She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly. Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that. "I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare. A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.
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