One Chance (Meant To Be 2) - Page 5

She’s wearing floss and a couple scraps of beige fabric, which for me, fucking heaven. But for every one else that’s darting glances her way, I want to kill them all. She’s the perfect size for me to carry around on my hip or over my shoulder. Turn her over my knee, then bounce her on my cock. She barely came up to my chest when she stood next to me earlier and she’s the perfect blend of just the right amount of curves and tight turns.

“Hey!” I roar as one of her group, some douchey guy with enough hair gel to fuck up the pool chemical balance for the next week, ogles her and gives her a thumbs up with his fucking tongue out. “You! Get the fuck out of the pool.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder.

“Why? I’ve been here all evening, I’m not doing anything,” he says with a dipshit Jersey Shore accent and puffs out his chest, taking a sip of some shitty light beer in a clear Solo cup. “I’m paying to be here, man. Step down.”

He turns back to his group as she hits me again with her eyes, then her lips curl in an apologetic smile, and she adds a shrug as I growl and settle in next to the edge of the bar.

“Don’t put your fucking head in the pool,” I throw out to the guy. “Your hair will melt and fuck up the filter.”

He screws up his face in a disgusted look but my little petite princess snickers. One of her friends passes her a pink drink and her lips wrap around the straw. This girl’s mouth is so fucking sexy, my heart is pumping like I’ve run a marathon.

She’s classy, smart, funny, and in the next thirty minutes I barely take my eyes off of her. She’s had two drinks, and the music has gone from Jimmy Buffet to some new Drake song and the vibe in the pool and around the bar is ramping up as it usually does this time of night.

I’m so hard I’m seeing double as the swell of her tits spills out from every side of her bikini top. Blood pounds into my cock like hammer blows and I can tell she’s self-conscious in that nothing bathing suit, and I want to cover her up and take her away.

Her dark lashes flutter as we exchange glances, and I swear her cheeks burst with two cherry-red spots when I reach down and adjust my dick, knowing she’s watching.

A few of her friends lean over and whisper in her ear. They point toward the doors where she came in, then nod to me, then go back to some hush-hush conversation that ends with the redhead handing her a shot of what looks like tequila.

She refuses, but her friend persists.

“You have three days to have fun,” I overhear. “The other three-hundred and sixty-two days of the year you won’t, so do it. For me.”

She holds the little glass to my girl’s lips and I hear her soft expulsion of breath as she leans her head back and downs the golden liquid.

Her group of friends go nuts, ordering another round as my raven-haired princess and her copper-haired cohort go back to whispering back and forth before they both settle their eyes on me.

A nod and a push later, her wide eyes are pinned on me and I ball my hands into fists as she climbs out of the pool and starts to tiptoe my way, the wet bikini clinging to what looks like the most perfect fucking clamshell between her legs as water drips down her creamy flesh.

I see a couple of her crew snickering and watching, but all my attention is focused on her. I don’t fucking think I’ll ever be able to focus on anything else.

The world disappears in a haze around her. Her nipples are hard and clear through the thin bathing suit fabric, and I want to mount her tiny body on my face, bite into her flesh and let every motherfucker on this planet know she’s off limits.

“Hi.” She sidles up about three steps from me and worries her bottom lip. “I’m Sophia.”

“Chance.”

I stare. I should fucking say something else. I’m a man of few words but with her, apparently, I’m a man of no words. My throat closes up and I feel the pounding of each heartbeat in my ears, my temples and down into my balls.

“Okay, Chance.” She looks uncomfortable and I hate that I can’t think of a single fucking word to tell her everything I’m feeling right now. “So, I just wanted to thank you. For earlier. For playing into that with me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.” I manage to unchoke the words from my throat.

“You did? I mean, most security or bouncers or whatever don’t have a sense of humor. Especially a quick, dry one. Sort of made my day. It was a shitty day. Until you.”

It was a shitty day…until you.

“Same,” I grunt, watching her eyes widen. They are the deepest emerald green with a golden center unlike any eyes I’ve ever seen.

“I have a hard time believing that. I mean, you work in paradise surrounded by half-naked bodies.”

A rumble shakes in my chest as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other and my eyes cascade down her tight little frame, landing on the sweet V between her legs.

Making conversation shouldn’t be this fucking hard.

Tags: Dani Wyatt Meant To Be Romance
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