I roll my eyes when the voice in my head starts sounding like an annoying bitch instead of a badass guy.
“I can walk myself,” she says, pushing away from me.
Fine. If she doesn’t even want me to walk her out, then who am I to argue? She’s a grown woman.
When she staggers all the way to the door, my jaw clenches. She’s not fit to cross a street alone. Some guy winks at a group of his buddies when he spots her, and he ducks out the door behind her, making his intentions clear.
Oh hell no.
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I take quick strides, ignoring Maverick when he yells for me, and I burst through the doors to see the guy laughing as he steadies her.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling. “Where’re you headed? I’ll help you.”
Like hell.
“I’ve got her,” I interrupt, knocking his hands off her as I wrap my arm around her waist.
“The fuck you do,” he snarls, acting like I’m stealing easy prey from his jaws.
“Kode,” Tria purrs, smiling as she pulls at my shirt. “Take me to my room.”
From the pool table to here, she’s finally making sense. Good.
The guy rolls his eyes, but he walks away, sulking. I start crossing the street with her safely tucked under my arm, but I’m staggering almost as badly as she is.
We both laugh when we take a diagonal route by mistake, and she clutches me tighter once we reach the sidewalk. I smirk when she takes off her heels and holds them in one hand.
“So much better,” she groans, and then she tugs at my jacket. “Come in with me.”
I smile as she tugs me harder. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
Her vixen’s grin only makes my already aching cock hurt that much more. But I can’t fuck her now. Not now that she’s this drunk. It’s as though walking outside made the alcohol catch up with her. Hate it when that shit happens.
We step into the elevator, and she presses the button for the fifth floor. I notice she doesn’t have a purse. It’s not like her dress has pockets. Where’s her key?
She staggers into me, and in my already drunken state, I stumble into the wall. “Mmm,” she says, making me laugh as she rubs up against me.
The doors open, and I start steering her off the elevator. “Which room?” I ask, trying not to act affected when she continues to tug at my shirt and backs against a door.
“This one.”
I tilt my head, ready to ask where her key is, when she reaches into her bra with her free hand. My eyes dart down—of course—and I get a peek at her erect nipples behind the lacy bra. That’s like putting a steak in front of a starving man.
I groan as I lose all my ability to hold back, and I lower my head while pushing her dress and bra down in unison to allow way for my mouth to close over the hard little nub.
She moans when she feels it, and she pulls me to her, tangling her fingers in my hair when she drops her shoes to the floor. That thin thread of sanity I had snaps, my morality collapses into a pile of rubble, and I lift her into the air before pressing her hard against the door.
I jerk the key out of her hand and blindly fumble with it, never moving my mouth away from her breast until the door opens. After I kick her shoes inside, we stumble into the room, and I lose my hold on her nipple, but her mout
h is on mine before I can go for it again.
Her greedy tongue sweeps in and my knees try to buckle. I’ve been kissed by many girls, but this is more than a kiss. It’s as though Tria is unleashing years of pent-up desire on me, and imprinting herself on me with each hungry stroke of her tongue.
The door slowly shuts on its own as we start tearing the place apart. She actually rips my shirt off as her legs clamp around my waist, and I start unzipping the back of the dress that has been fucking with my head all night.
Everything around me becomes forgotten. The sounds echoing through the room are raw and desperate, both of us seeking all we can get from the other before the illusion is shattered and we have to return to reality.
“You’d better have a condom,” she says against my lips, making me smile.