One Night Stand
Page 13
“Really?” He looked at me in surprise. “Everyone you know still has a poster of boy bands on their wall?” He wiggled his eyebrow and I made a face at him.
“Of course not now. This is my childhood room. This is where I slept as a teenager. I don’t live here anymore. I have my own apartment and I don’t have posters of the Backstreet boys up there.” I said defensively.
“I think you’re protesting a bit too much.” He laughed. “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I’m sure about that. I’m very sure I know what’s hanging in my bedroom.” I turned away from him, hoping he couldn’t see the red in my face. I did have some photos of Matthew McConaughey in a scrapbook in my bedroom that I’d cut out from celebrity magazines. And those weren’t from my teenage years. They were from the future husband scrapbooks Alice and I had made in college. Matthew McConaughey was my dream man. He was perfect: rough, handsome, had a sexy country drawl and he loved his mama. If he weren’t married, I’d be on a plane to Texas or California doing whatever I could to meet him.
“Liv?” Xander’s voice was hesitant. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, why?” I turned to look at him and his eyes were curious as he stared at me.
“You seemed to drift away just now and I was wondering what had occupied your thoughts so deeply? Surely not having day dreams about Justin Timberlake?”
“Justin Timberlake was in N’Sync, not the Backstreet Boys.” I rolled my eyes at him and he laughed.
“Ask me if I care.”
“I didn’t say you cared. I was just correcting you because what you said was wrong. Ugh.” I shook my head in frustration. “What do you want, Xander? You’re annoying me.”
“You. Again. In your bed. Under your Backstreet Boys poster crying out my name and singing ‘Quit Playing Games with My Heart’.”
“Oh.” My jaw dropped at his presumptuousness and at the fact that he knew the name of a boy band song.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“You have five seconds to tell me what you really want, then I suggest you leave my room. I’m this close to telling my sister about you, you dirty pig.”
“Telling your sister what about me?” He laughed. “That you met me at a wedding last weekend and then proceeded to have sex with me at the church?”
“We didn’t have sex at the church.” I protested. “We, we...” I sputtered out at him, not sure what to say. “You’re a pig.”
“You said that before.” He grinned. “And I stand corrected, we didn’t have sex at the church. Well, not technically. Not if you mean my cock in your—”
“Xander.” I cut him off, my face officially the color of fire truck engine red. I could be in one of those picture books that they made for toddlers to learn the colors. When everyone thought of bright red, they would think of the color on my face during this conversation with Xander, miracle tongue worker and jerk.
“Yes?” He laughed. “I was just agreeing with you. Technically, my tongue inside of you doesn’t qualify as fornification. Though what we did in the church is a type of sex right? If we’re being absolutely correct, I believe that oral sex is still sex, but I don’t know how technical we’re being.” His eyes mocked me as he continued. “So yes, you’re correct we didn’t have sex at the church. Not the full, we could be in a porn movie type of sex. However, we did have my mouth between your legs making you come quasi-sex and then we did have full on porno movie sex later that night, in my hotel room.” He paused. “Does that make you feel better?”
“No, that does not make me feel better.” I grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the door and closer to the bed. “And keep your voice down. What if someone hears you?”
“Would that be a problem?” He cocked his head.
“What do you think?”
“We’re not back on that again, are we?” He grabbed my hands and pulled them up to his face. “Your nails need cutting.” He studied them for a few seconds and I pulled my hands away from him.
“What?” I frowned, distracted by his comment. “What are you talking about?”
“I was just saying you need a manicure.” He shrugged. “Your fingernails are longer and the nail polish is chipping off.”
“Are you fucking joking with me right now?” My jaw dropped. “You’re the most insufferable—”
“Pig, I know.” He finished my sentence for me.
“No, I was going to say asshole.” My eyes narrowed as I stared at the nonchalant smile on his face. “You’re an asshole.”
“That gives me an idea.” He grinned and he grabbed my waist and pulled me towards him.
“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting reacquainted with you.” He laughed as he looked down into my face; his lips dangerously close to mine as his fingers slipped to my ass.
“Hey.” I jumped back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, I was touching your ass because you gave me an idea.” His voice suddenly became seductively low.
“What idea?” I swallowed hard and then my jaw dropped. “Do you think I’m going to have anal sex with you? The day I find out you’re engaged to my sister? Are you out of your mind? Did you really think I was going to let you—”
“Of course not now. This is my childhood room. This is where I slept as a teenager. I don’t live here anymore. I have my own apartment and I don’t have posters of the Backstreet boys up there.” I said defensively.
“I think you’re protesting a bit too much.” He laughed. “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I’m sure about that. I’m very sure I know what’s hanging in my bedroom.” I turned away from him, hoping he couldn’t see the red in my face. I did have some photos of Matthew McConaughey in a scrapbook in my bedroom that I’d cut out from celebrity magazines. And those weren’t from my teenage years. They were from the future husband scrapbooks Alice and I had made in college. Matthew McConaughey was my dream man. He was perfect: rough, handsome, had a sexy country drawl and he loved his mama. If he weren’t married, I’d be on a plane to Texas or California doing whatever I could to meet him.
“Liv?” Xander’s voice was hesitant. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, why?” I turned to look at him and his eyes were curious as he stared at me.
“You seemed to drift away just now and I was wondering what had occupied your thoughts so deeply? Surely not having day dreams about Justin Timberlake?”
“Justin Timberlake was in N’Sync, not the Backstreet Boys.” I rolled my eyes at him and he laughed.
“Ask me if I care.”
“I didn’t say you cared. I was just correcting you because what you said was wrong. Ugh.” I shook my head in frustration. “What do you want, Xander? You’re annoying me.”
“You. Again. In your bed. Under your Backstreet Boys poster crying out my name and singing ‘Quit Playing Games with My Heart’.”
“Oh.” My jaw dropped at his presumptuousness and at the fact that he knew the name of a boy band song.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“You have five seconds to tell me what you really want, then I suggest you leave my room. I’m this close to telling my sister about you, you dirty pig.”
“Telling your sister what about me?” He laughed. “That you met me at a wedding last weekend and then proceeded to have sex with me at the church?”
“We didn’t have sex at the church.” I protested. “We, we...” I sputtered out at him, not sure what to say. “You’re a pig.”
“You said that before.” He grinned. “And I stand corrected, we didn’t have sex at the church. Well, not technically. Not if you mean my cock in your—”
“Xander.” I cut him off, my face officially the color of fire truck engine red. I could be in one of those picture books that they made for toddlers to learn the colors. When everyone thought of bright red, they would think of the color on my face during this conversation with Xander, miracle tongue worker and jerk.
“Yes?” He laughed. “I was just agreeing with you. Technically, my tongue inside of you doesn’t qualify as fornification. Though what we did in the church is a type of sex right? If we’re being absolutely correct, I believe that oral sex is still sex, but I don’t know how technical we’re being.” His eyes mocked me as he continued. “So yes, you’re correct we didn’t have sex at the church. Not the full, we could be in a porn movie type of sex. However, we did have my mouth between your legs making you come quasi-sex and then we did have full on porno movie sex later that night, in my hotel room.” He paused. “Does that make you feel better?”
“No, that does not make me feel better.” I grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the door and closer to the bed. “And keep your voice down. What if someone hears you?”
“Would that be a problem?” He cocked his head.
“What do you think?”
“We’re not back on that again, are we?” He grabbed my hands and pulled them up to his face. “Your nails need cutting.” He studied them for a few seconds and I pulled my hands away from him.
“What?” I frowned, distracted by his comment. “What are you talking about?”
“I was just saying you need a manicure.” He shrugged. “Your fingernails are longer and the nail polish is chipping off.”
“Are you fucking joking with me right now?” My jaw dropped. “You’re the most insufferable—”
“Pig, I know.” He finished my sentence for me.
“No, I was going to say asshole.” My eyes narrowed as I stared at the nonchalant smile on his face. “You’re an asshole.”
“That gives me an idea.” He grinned and he grabbed my waist and pulled me towards him.
“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting reacquainted with you.” He laughed as he looked down into my face; his lips dangerously close to mine as his fingers slipped to my ass.
“Hey.” I jumped back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, I was touching your ass because you gave me an idea.” His voice suddenly became seductively low.
“What idea?” I swallowed hard and then my jaw dropped. “Do you think I’m going to have anal sex with you? The day I find out you’re engaged to my sister? Are you out of your mind? Did you really think I was going to let you—”
