All the Wright Moves

“I haven’t decided. Should I?”

“I like it both ways,” she said, dragging her hand down my cheek.

She drew me in closer. So close. I breathed in the Tiffany’s perfume she sprayed on herself every morning. Our lips nearly touched. I could practically taste the honey on her lips.

Then, her eyes widened a fraction, as if she, too, realized how close we were. Then, she burst into laughter.

I jerked backward and laughed, too. “Dear God, you’re drunk.”

“I really, really am. Oh my God.” She ran a hand down her face. “You should get to bed. I probably won’t even remember this in the morning.”

I cleared my throat. “Get some sleep.”

“Hey, West,” she said as I got to my feet.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for a good night. It was what I needed.”

“Anytime,” I told her.

Then, I hastened out of her bedroom. That had been fucking close. So close that her perfume still lingered on my shirt. I could smell her all over me. I pushed down my erection as I hurried down the hall to my room. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep without taking care of this.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about her crawling around on the ground, talking about sucking cock, as I came in the shower later.