When he calledmysunshine, his girl’ and ‘baby,’ I almost lost control. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from bashing his head in.
It’s my bar. I’m Roman Montclair. I could get away with it.
But Cecilia thinks I’m her hero. And beating her friend to death might change her view of me.
And I can’t let that happen.
“You look handsome tonight,” she says with a beautiful smile.
I can’t contain the grin that spread across my face. This beautiful goddess thinks I look good tonight. It’s ridiculous when coming from her. She’s breathtaking.
When I saw her leave her apartment in that skirt, I almost marched over and demanded she change. On anyone else, it’d be beyond modest for a night club. But on her, on my sunshine… it’s downright scandalous. No man should get to see her like this.
Her skirt, while floor length, ties at the top so when she walks, her leg slips out. That long, tan, toned leg. And it’s thin enough that you can see the outline of her legs through it in the light. It’s dangerous.
Then her top. Her lacy, see through top. Yes, she’s wearing some tight top under it that covers her tits, but it doesn’t stop the images coursing through my mind.
The final piece that makes her entirely irresistible is the blinding smile she wears.
Her beautiful lips upturned, displaying her happiness. She’s radiating. I can’t seem to look away.
Once we’re far enough that I no longer feel Leo’s presence, I stop. I turn to where I’m facing the main entrance, just so I can stay aware. With my looming height, I can see over the heads of most people on the dance floor.
Cecilia starts to move, swaying her hips hypnotically in tune with the music. I place my hands on her tiny waist and move with her.
I’m not known to dance. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a dance floor. But I had to get us away from Leo. And I can’t resist an excuse to get close to her. To touch her.
As we move, the distance between us closes. She lifts her hair off her neck and lets it fall. I’m entranced in the way it bounces. She brings her arms around my neck, having to step closer to reach. So close, her chest is pressed against mine.
And then I feel it.
I feel her peaked nipples brushing against my dress shirt.
My cock, which has been sporting a semi since I saw her in this damn skirt, hardens fully. I inch closer to her, closing the space between us, and I know she feels it when she lets out a gasp.
A beautiful, soft gasp. It’s music in my ears. Drowning out the loud beat of the song thrumming through the speakers.
I start rocking into her belly. Not fully thrusting, but enough to where I feel each brush. My heart is thumping. Her breathing is ragged. All I can see is her.
Then I lean down so our eyes are level. She moves her head ever so slightly to meet my gaze, and it lets off a whiff of her perfume.
I’m like Pavlov’s dogs trained to respond to her scent. Precum leaks from my cock. I wonder which panties she’s wearing, and if I can get them from her. I don’t know how I’ll get them, but I know I want them. And I always find a way to get what I want.
“Sunshine, you’re torturing me,” I groan.
Her big, innocent eyes bear into mine. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“No, Cecilia. It’s the best kind of torture. I never want it to end.”
“Neither do I.”
Then she raises onto her toes and seals her lips to mine.
The kiss is nothing more than a peck. It’s over quicker than I can blink. She pulls back too soon.
That won’t do.
She just gave me permission. And I’m going to take what’s mine.
