Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

FRIDAY.

FRAT HOUSE.

His broad hand moves down to my cheeks, cupping it in one go, his tongue claiming my lips in one swift motion.

He releases a grunt as his mouth engulfed mine, closing the space between us until there’s nearly none left.

I whimper and set my hands down, barely hanging onto my chair and letting him kiss me. However, he wants. I shoved the thoughts in my mind and let him claim me. It’s a good kiss. My tummy tingling is a good sign.

Jimmy’s an expert kisser, yet the paranoid part of me kept searching for excuses on why things could royally be screwed up.

“That was worth it.”

Jimmy whispered against my lips, pulling away, but his hand remained over mine, drawing circles at the top of my left hand. They slowly slid through to my thigh, resting there. I can’t deny my body’s reaction to his touch.

I jerk slightly in my seat, then tug away, wishing I hadn’t tied my hair up. There’s nothing to cover my eyes with.

“Are you okay?”

Jimmy’s voice snaps me back to his face. They’re lines of worry and I’m quick to force a smile to mine.

“Of course.”

Smacking my tongue over my bottom lip, I draw in a little, then chuckle. His eyes remain on those lips, monitoring each movement.

“You’re beautiful.”

He blurts out for the second time. I flush instantly, trying to turn away.

“Thank you.”

I murmur and focus back to the crowd. No one noticed that kiss, or rather I and Jimmy were seated next to each other.

“Refill?”

I bobbed my head, shoving my glass towards him.

He grabbed his and mine, then strolled away. Once he’s out of sight, I sigh a second time, then search for my phone, relaying what just happened to Miranda.

I might lose it if I don’t tell someone.

“Finally! Fuck celibacy. Go, Jimmy!”

She replies in seconds. Her enthusiasm has me shaking my head in disbelief. Of course, she’s on his side. I tuck my phone away, then exhale.

This kiss was great. His lips are even fuller when pressed against mine, his voice got even huskier when he moans straight into my mouth. That was very hot. I shudder to relive his kiss.

What’s with the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach?

“Back..”

He announced, passing a glass to me, keeping one for himself, then setting a bottle over the bar stool.

“Thank you.”

I press my lips tightly until the glass reaches them and I have to gulp in one go.

“Usually when I make out with girls, there suggest ditching a place and coming back to mine.”

I can tell by his tone that he’s teasing, and it works. I’m grinning when I turn back to face him.

“Poor Jimmy, can we go back to your place?”

I purposely bat my lashes more times than usual, then pout my lips before dragging my tongue over the bottom, knowing it just drives him nuts.

“Yes.”

He answers breathlessly.

“Too bad.”

I smack my lips in my usual tone, taking another gulp from my glass. It’s vodka. I believe.

“Do I at least stand a chance at a second date?”

I throw my head back, chuckling deeply.

“The first date isn’t over and you’re asking for a second?”

“I’m Proactive.”

He grins, flashing his entire set of teeth.

“We’ll see.”

I smile back, then stand up.

“I have to go use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

He nods once and I turn around and slip away. I’ve never been to this house before, but I don’t think it’ll be too difficult to find a restroom.

There should be one downstairs. I pass through a couple of boys and girls around a pool table; the girls are barely clothed if crop tops and short skirts count as clothing. The kitchen is over there and the final door is a closet or a restroom.

I don’t get to find out. It’s locked.

That only leaves upstairs.

I blink my lid a few times then stroll upstairs where the music is even louder. Miranda is here for sure. There’s barely enough room to slip by, but I do. There’s a line by the restroom.

Civil much? I have little of a choice.

I pick a spot, holding onto the rail while waiting for my “turn”. This is ridiculous.

Eventually, it’s just one girl left inside, then I can go in. My bladder is about to burst, and that’s not even an exaggeration.

Once she’s out, I practically bump into her while going in. I can barely lock the door before hopping into one seat.

It doesn’t look too dirty, but I squat over it instead and finish my business.

****

A text from Miranda interrupts my hand washing experience. I raise my head and sneak a peek, hoping she isn’t drunk and texting. Again.

“Hey. Where are you?”

Clearly not.

“Restroom upstairs. I’ll be down soon.”

I text back just as I exit the place. I’m tempted to sprinkle a little water over my face, but that’ll ruin my makeup and Miranda would kill me.

“Finally.”

Speak of the vixen. She turns her attention away from Jimmy to me and I slid back into my seat, grabbing my drink, which is full again for some weird reason. I could’ve sworn I drank from it. Maybe Jimmy refilled it.

“When are we leaving?”

I whisper to Miranda.

“It’s barely midnight.”

I roll my eyes.

“I’ll leave with Jimmy soon. I have a lot to do tomorrow.”

She glares harshly.

“Come on, it’s the first party of the semester.”

She’s pouting. I’m clenching my fist underneath the table.

“Fine. One hour tops, then I’m leaving.”

Then a grin. The switch in attitude so quickly needs to be studied.

“I’ll be upstairs.”

And she’s off. I turn my gaze back to Jimmy, who’s watching me quietly and still sipping from his glass.

“So I have an hour here. What do you want to do?”

“How about we dance?”

I cringe hard

“I’m terrible on my feet.”

He smirks.

“I suspected you’ll say that, so you don’t have to worry because I will do most of the work for you. Come on.”

He stretches his right hand in front of me. Inner me is tugging harshly to grab it, but I don’t think I want to.

I don’t want to.

“Um, do we really have to?”

It’s hard rock playing over the juice box. I expected the girls to grind and all. I can’t do that.

“Or we could take a walk?”

My eyes lit up. That’s better. I nod my head quickly, then stand up, grabbing my purse.

******Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

“Let’s play a game. You’ll tell me something and I’ll tell you something.”

I burst into laughter.

“That’s so kindergarten, but I’ll bite.”

He laces his finger with mine as we stroll away from the music.

“I’ll start. I’ve been crushing on you for eight months.”

I chuckle lightly. Clearly.

“I’m having fun and I haven’t done this for almost a year.”

His gaze lingers on mine for a few seconds.

“I’m glad.”

He whispers.

“I wish we could do this again.”

I breathe.

“I fear what will happen if I keep doing this again.”

I blurt, then exhale deeply.

“You don’t have to be.”

He stops abruptly.

*I already am.* I keep silly thought to myself.

“You don’t.”

He repeats, tilting my jaw until I’m staring straight at him.

He ducks his head, pressing his lips against mine. Unlike the kiss inside, this is much harder. It’s swift. Quick. The amount of alcohol we’ve both consumed might fuel it. I take lead this time, flicking my tongue over his then stroking gently.

He grunts and pulls into my waist, wrapping his arms around the small of my back. A moan escapes my throat as I kiss him back.

Then something vibrates against my thigh. I pressed his pocket against it, so I assume that must be his phone.

He pulls away, licking his bottom lip.

“Worse time for a phone call. I’ll just take this.”

He places his phone over his ear, listening to the receiver.

Letting go of his hand, I stepped away, narrowing my gaze on the shadow close to the alley. It almost seems like we were being watched.

Jimmy’s attention is still focused on the caller, so I trail the shadow.

Cocking my head, I try to make out anyone. I can’t. Increasing my pace, I reach the intersection and exhale when there’s no one in sight.

I really am paranoid.

About to turn around and return to Jimmy, another gasp escape my lips instead.

Someone pulled my arm towards the alley and before I dared to scream, a large fist covers my mouth and muffles my resistance.

“Darlin, it’s just me. Calm down. It’s just me.”

His words sunk deep into my tummy and leave butterflies in their wake. I sigh deeply, fluttering my eyes open. And it’s not a fucking dream.

There’s a tiny flicker of light, but it’s all I need. It’s all I’ll ever need. The realisation is crushing. Dylan’s figure is hovering over mine in the alley, a handful pressed over my lips, his eyes boring into mine.

I exhale deeply, but there’s another shadow still. That could only mean Dylan was never trailing me, or he and someone else were. But who? And Dylan. Dylan is right here in front of me. We’re pressed against each other. I can feel his breath on my skin and fucking hell, I missed this. I missed him.

****

*Author’s Note*

*Yesssssssssssss the man of the fucking hour!!!! I sure as hell missed him!!!!!*