I pull myself up off the ground when I hear them announce last call. My eyes narrow in on the space occupied by the group Izzy is with. Mr. Douche-in-a-Suit is getting awfully handsy with my Izzy. I breathe a sigh of relief when she walks off to the back of the bar. Alone. Relief is fleeting when a few seconds later Mr. Douche-in-a-Suit follows her. I resist the urge to let out the growl caged in my lungs. Baz must’ve seen or sensed something because he turns me with one hand on my bicep and the other clenched at his side.
Fuck. If I lose my shit here, Baz won’t hesitate to knock my ass out. “I’m good, Baz.” My back is to the exiting crowd, but I know exactly when to turn when I hear Baz…
“Ah, shit.”
I whirl around on my heels and through the crowd as if it didn’t even exist, I see Izzy reaching up and kissing the douche on the cheek. “Are you fucking kidding me, Izzy?” Not doing such a good job of keeping my growl caged. When douche-canoe hesitates to leave her, I look at him over Izzy’s shoulder sending him a silent challenge. He glances back down at Izzy. I can taste the blood from biting my tongue, the pain non-existent as I wait for her to acknowledge that I’m there.
When she sends bitch boy off, I puff up my chest as if I had just won that round, but am substantially deflated when Izzy whirls around and levels me with a glare that could kill. The crowd starts to build on the edges of a potential spectacle. She’s crossed her arms and just stares. I know she’s deliberately pushing my buttons. Trying to get a reaction out of me. I don’t know how much time passes, but it feels like an eternity before she decides to close the distance between us seeing as how Sebastian is keeping me from going to her.
She reaches me, placing her hand on my chest and a wave of relief washes over me. For a split second, there’s still hope. “Go home, Diego.” I smell tequila on her breath and a hint of sand and sea mixed with vanilla that is all Izzy. I want to taste her. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish here and at this hour, but don’t do this to yourself. I’ll call you if—” what the fuck “—I feel like talking, okay?”
I steel at her words. She’s being cruel. Izzy’s never cruel. Fuck. My shoulders tense when that split second of hope turns to knives hugging my heart. “If?”
She doesn’t wait long before she steps to me a little further and answers. “Tell me something, Diego,” she snarls on my name. “If I missed your birthday party, didn’t answer the hundreds of calls you made to me, and then you found me in the middle of what appeared to be naked Twister in my bed with not one, but two—men, would you want to talk to me?” She looks directly into my eyes with those last words. Her unshed tears a glossy mask of pain.
“Izzy,” I plead. I’m done for. I am not above begging, sinking to the ground in front of her.
She shakes her head at me. “No, Diego. Not here. Not now. If you ever want me to hear what you have to say, you will go home and wait.” Does that mean she will eventually call? I start to ask, but she continues, “Although,” catching my gaze with hers, “I don’t suggest holding your breath.”
Her words knocked the breath right out of me. Sebastian steadies me when I consider dropping right here, right now. “Come on, Diego,” he coaches me into making the right decision. He turns me in the opposite direction of where Izzy got in a cab and drove off. He turns me toward the car. “I’m crashing in your room tonight, bro.”
“Great! I’ve got a fucking babysitter.”
“Hey, asshole! That’s Mr. Babysitter,” he pushes me along the path. “And if you don’t want a babysitter, stop fucking around. I saw the way Izzy looked when she realized you were here.” I whip my head around, my eyes searching to meet his. He looks at me and continues, “She saw me before she saw you and in a flash relief and hope washed over her.” He picks up the pace the closer we get to the car. “I’d say you have a shot in hell and you deserve less,” he says, shoving me into the side of the car. “But she’s going to give it to you, Diego.”
“Your second chance,” he says sliding around to the driver’s side. He taps the hood of the car. “It starts now. What are you going to do with it?”
Chapter Three: Mr. Brightside (Part 2)
January 2007
Fuck, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
After the first two fingers of the tequila, it stopped burning.
After the second two, the pain lessened.
After the third two, I was numb.
I flip through pics with the right arrow button. College.
There’s one of me with three of my teammates.
I remember that night.
One of the best nights of my life.
Even to this day.
Top Ten.
Meeting Izzy changed everything.
Chapter Four: Come & Talk To Me
August 1998
In an instant, my field of vision narrowed to the raven haired beauty that walked at Baz’s side. The cute blonde with the gi-fucking-normous tits chatting me up about today’s game and the one goal I scored instantly reduced to the wa wa wa waaa’s heard from the adult characters in the fucking Peanuts. I tracked her through the crowded room of the frat house.
Fuck me. All kinds of perfect with her full tits and tiny waist. The slight swell of her hips hints to the fullness of her ass and the mystery has my dick twitching in anticipation. Her t-shirt sparkles with roughly arranged words, “You can’t arrest me…” I can’t read the rest, but I’m dying to.
Baz directs her attention toward the back where the kitchen is. I’m eager to follow, but she’s not just here with someone else, she’s here with Sebastian.
I can’t take my eyes off of her even knowing this. Considering the house was bursting at the seams and their forward progress seriously hindered, it wasn’t an easy task. I was halfway through my second round of taking in the profile of the tiny beauty that was with my best friend—and brother, for all intents and purposes—when they both vanished into the sea of collegiate party-goers.
“So,” Katie’s ramble clears up without the target for my tunnel vision and temporary hearing impairment in sight, “do you think you could show me a few things on the field?” Damn her tits are wiggling with every shake of her shoulders.
“Querida,” I answer. “Sería un placer.” It would certainly be my pleasure to show her some things on the field. Of course, this busty blonde has no idea what I’ve said, but when you’re blessed with a silver tongue that speaks a “romantic” foreign language, it’s verbal foreplay and I could literally say anything and blondie’s visible thong would be drenched. “We could go—”
I’m interrupted when the guy shouting “Fucking Feo!” as he plows into me. Damien is at least halfway through a twelve-pack and very clearly fucked up. “Duuuude, did you see the fucking babe your bro walked in with?” I felt my spine stiffen with his question. While I was curious about the reason for that reaction, I’m more curious about Damien’s knowledge of her. Normally, I’d pass him off to the next set of willing ladies, but I wanted to know more about Baz’s date.
“Who is—”
“Hmmpff,” I can’t get the rest of my question before I’m brought back to Katie. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the petulant child-like pout from Katie, but I want to hear what Damien has to say without upsetting tonight’s ‘sure thing.’ “Querida,” I practically purr in her ear, “why don’t you get yourself a refill and grab a ‘Rona for me?” I’m not drinking but she doesn’t know that.
When she’s gone, ass wiggling away from us, I wrap my arm around Damien’s neck in an almost headlock and bring him into my side. “Who’s the goddess with my brother?”
“Izzy.” It’s all he says as my eyes scan the room and land on hers. When she’s caught staring, she doesn’t blush or jump to look away. She takes one more deliberate look up and down m
e, quirks an eyebrow, and turns away. I realize the only reason Damien hasn’t added more than her name to the answer to my question is because his tongue has rolled out of his mouth. The very sight of this Izzy has deevolutionized my friend and teammate. I don’t blame him, but I’m calling dibs.
“Pick your tongue up, amigo. She’s sooooo out of your league.”
“And what? You aren’t? Ha,” he drunkenly scoffs at me. “Did you see the look she gave me?”
“You’re joking, right?” I laugh out.
“You’re Santo Feo,” he butchers the two very simple Spanish words that make up my field nickname. “You’re ugly dude. Your name says so.”
“Hate to break it to you, bud, but she was not quirking up an eyebrow at you drooling all over yourself.”
“Whatever. Too bad she’s here with your bro,” he lashes back, cracking up at his own joke as he trails away through the thinned out crowd in the room.
“Diiiick.” I couldn’t help but chuckle—
“What’s so funny?” Katie’s back with a refill and a Corona. She hands me the cold bottle with the cap in place. Perfect. She’s just provided me with the perfect excuse for not drinking it. I look up from my unopened bottle to see Katie sporting a pout.
“What’s wrong Kitty Kat?” I mentally shrug with the name; seems like a good pet name for a Katie.
She holds up her red cup and shakes it. “Last drink. Headed back to the house with the rest of my sisters.” I know she means her sorority sisters. “I’m bummed. I wanted to talk to you in private before I had to leave.”
“Well, why didn’t you say something, pretty girl? I know just the place.” Damien didn’t mind if I used his room.
“Really?” she squeaks through her visible excitement. The jutting peaks in her thin as hell t-shirt all the evidence I need. I guide her through to the second floor. The stairs were crowded with traffic and littered with empties and passed out party-goers. I was avoiding a passed out couple when I bumped into oncoming traffic, discovering that the ample chest that made contact with my shoulder was none other than Baz’s date, Izzy. And from this proximity, I can see that her shirt is actually decorated with a quote: You can’t arrest me, I’m a rockstar. -Sid Vicious.
“Hi,” she says, looking between me and Katie who is latched onto the waist of my jeans. When I don’t answer, she continues, “First, grope is free. You’ll have to buy me dinner for the next one.” She grants me a wink and moves by. I think I heard her chuckle.
“Excuse me,” Katie admonishes.
“No worries, Kitty Kat. That’s my brother’s date. He probably told her to fuck with me to keep you from spending time with me.” I pull her into my side. “Let’s show him he can’t stop us.”
Her eyes lit with the propositioning of a challenge. Izzy and her verbal jabs forgotten. She grabs my hand, passes me up on the stairs and leads us to the second floor landing. “Second door on the left,” I tell her when she’s looking confusedly at the hallway of doors.
Katie’s a woman on a mission and I pray to the gods her mission is her lips around my dick. She pulls us through Damien’s bedroom door and locks it once we’re tucked away inside. She pushes me towards the bed: a mattress and a box spring right on the floor.
“I was thinking I wanted to give you something you’d remember me by.”
Yup, she’s gonna blow me. “Querida, do you really think I could forget you?” I’m laying it on thick, but she’s so focused on me remembering her to notice.
The backs of my knees hit the bed. I stumble to a sitting position on the bed, my arms propping me up. I watch Katie move with a purpose. She swings her ass around to within inches of my face. She swoops from side to side dropping and dipping above my lap. As she drops her hips, she lowers herself to my dick hiking up her barely there skirt, revealing her black lacy g-string.
Her torturous descent to my lap finally over, she grinds her pussy against my throbbing erection. The friction of her pressing against the fly of my jeans both painful and pleasurable, but I’m thankful when Katie spins around and drops to her knees. She dives in for a kiss and I oblige, fucking her mouth with my tongue, silently urging her to fuck my dick with her mouth. “Aggghhh,” the thought tears a groan from my throat. Katie takes the verbal cue and hikes up my shirt as she trails a series of kisses down my chest and abs. Deftly handling the button-fly of my jeans she has my cock in her hands before my next breath.
Her hands still and I look to see what the problem might be and she appears to be mesmerized by my dick wrapped with her hand. I thought I heard her hum an approval likened to something being yummy, but I couldn’t tell as she’s erased the last hour with the swirl of her tongue around the head of my shaft.
I wish I could say it got better than that, but she was mediocre at best all hands and teeth and not in the good way. I found myself filling the void in her skill with thoughts of Izzy. The very thought of her puts an ache in my balls even with Katie sucking, pushing, and pulling on my dick.
Suddenly, my head is filled with images of being balls deep in Izzy and I’m on the cusp of exploding in Katie’s mouth. I warn her. “I’m coming,” I chortle. I’m not completely deplorable. She doesn’t make a move to avoid swallowing, instead she’s attacking my dick with a renewed intensity pumping her hand and gagging when my head jams the back of her throat.
“Fuuuuck,” the solo word is a soundtrack to my release. It’s less a word and more a sound somewhere between a growl and a grunt. With my head thrown back, I think I hear Katie choke, but I’m so blissed out I don’t have the wherewithal to check on her. If her unimpeded progress is an accurate indicator, she worked through the discomfort like a pro as she continues to work every last drop of cum from me.
A few moments pass after she unwraps her hand and licks the tip of my dick before I manage to lift my head and open my eyes. Katie’s eyes are wide with pride. I don’t have the heart to shed light on her need to refine her skills, so I compliment her the way an asshole like me can. “Damn, baby. You sucked me dry.”
That kicked up the blush in her cheeks and boosted the pride in her eyes. “Hold on,” she says, as I start to sit up. She’s looking around the poorly lit room. I’m not sure what she’s looking for in Damien’s room. She steps away and returns with a Sharpie.
She looks at me and it’s my turn for my eyes to go wide. I don’t have the mental capacity to consider the different things she might do with that pen, so I’m shocked when she writes her name and number above my left hip. She gently blows on it to make sure the ink is dry and places a lingering kiss just above it.
I can’t help but silently pray that this little thing doesn’t fall in love simply by delivering a blow job. I know I didn’t promise hearts and flowers, but I still feel a little guilty when they get attached.
“Call me,” she says sweetly.
“Kaaaaayyyy-teeeeeeee!” There is a choir of voices singing her name down the hall of the second floor. That’s clearly her cue to go when she jumps up straightening her skirt and swiping around her mouth. She opens the door with my dick still hanging out of my pants. “Katie!” the girls’ voices rising with excitement at her presence in the hall.
“Later, Santo Feo,” she waggles her fingers at me from the doorway. Her drunk sisters knock open the door the rest of the way and gasp and stare when their eyes land on my cock. It mindlessly twitches under their scrutiny.
“Daaaamn—”
“Holy shiiiit—”
“Is that your fucking number next to his dick?” I chuckle at the question and the girls that didn’t notice the permanent ink marking the space next to my cock lean in for a closer look. Someone, somewhere lost their footing and brought the group of four girls, not including Katie down in a pile in the door opening.
“God damn, Diego,” Damien is standing behind the sorority girl p
ile up half in his bedroom and half out. “When I said you could use my room, I didn’t realize it was going to see more action in a single night than my entire freshman year.” He gives me a look as if he knows something I don’t. “Tuck your dick in dude or I’ll have to whip mine out and embarrass you in front of your entourage.”
The spell on the girls is broken when I slip my boxers and jeans back into place. They slowly untangle themselves and get off the floor. Each one looking like they’d like a taste and I flash them a smile that says, “Anytime.”
“Bye-eeee,” they all sing while giggling through the hall and down the stairs.
“Fuck, dude. All of them?” The look on his face is priceless. It’s shock and awe mixed with pain. I heard the hint of jealousy in his question. I want to fuck with him, but I think better of it and put him out of his misery.
“Nah. Just the one from earlier.”
He lets out an audible sigh, clearly finding comfort in my more realistic conquest.
“Although…” I trail off and he gives me an incredulous look.
“Fuck you, dude. Guess I won’t tell you my secret.”
“Don’t get your vagina all beat up. I couldn’t handle all of them for more than a few hours. I’d totally share when I was too tired to continue.”
“You’re a dick, you know that?” He still laughs with me.
“Now you gonna stop being a bitch and tell me your ‘secret?’”
“Oh, yeah…” his eyes glimmer with excitement. “Izzy.” He uses her name as if it explains everything. His eyes look lost in memory.
“What about Izzy?” I can’t hide the slight irritation in my voice.
He shakes his head of the memory fog and laughs.
Love Needs Another Chance (Truth About Love #3) Page 2
