The last bit of sober me says to stop. To pull away and not fuck this chick in public. But drunk me is more fun and more convincing. So, I drop my arms, disconnecting hers from me before I wrap around her waist and lift her off the ground.
Her legs don’t wrap, but our mouths pick up the pace, and the gasp she lets out is eaten by our tongues swirling. Eleanor’s hands ghost over the back of my neck before she’s wrapped around it, hugging me close as we get sloppier and more desperate.
Fuck, she’s a good kisser.
I growl, rumbling my chest, my breath heaving as she pulls away, just as breathless. Her eyes are locked on mine, and she has a smile on her face.
But we’re silent, staring at each other as the thump of the bass rattles our bones. She parts her lips to speak but doesn’t need to say shit. Because from the way she kissed me back, I know whatever happens tonight will be the time of my fucking life.
“It’s about time, QB,” she pants. “I thought I was going to have to pull an audible.”
My lips part to say, Come home with me. Right fucking now, but her friend Millie pops up, a hand on each of our shoulders breaking our drunk bubble. Our heads shift simultaneously as Millie smiles big and bright back at us.
“We’ve got a party bus, hoes. Let’s go. We’re blowing this joint.”
I can’t help the grin on my face as I take another swig of drink number too fucking many. But who cares. Everyone’s wasted, and the night hasn’t stopped looking promising.
Mostly because Eleanor’s ass is directly in front of my face as she stands between my legs throwing dollar bills at TJ, who’s swinging around on the gold stripper pole in the middle of the bus like the jackass he is. My eyes tick up to Nate, who’s sitting across from me, relaxed, his eyes firmly planted between my Wild Card and her friend Millie.
I know exactly what he’s thinking—the guy loves a good threesome where he’s the star of the show, but nobody’s fucking Eleanor without me in the goddamn picture. He looks up, chuckling as he meets my gaze, and I mouth, Dibs, bitch. Not that he gives a shit. So to further my claim, I put a hand on her hip and jerk her backward onto my lap, giving him a fuck-you look before I laugh. She squeals, but it morphs into a laugh too.
I tuck her against me, my lips finding her ear, the liquor I just drank still fresh on my lips as I keep what I say hushed.
“How long do you plan on making me watch the dudes on this party bus eye fuck you before you let me do it for real?”
She turns her head, giving me her profile and a shit-eating grin.
“Your eye’s gonna fuck me? That’d be a first for me.”
I grumble, biting at her cheek, but she likes it. I know it because she smacks my bicep before turning all the way around to straddle me. My hips thrust upward, bouncing her on my lap as I grab the sides of her dress to make sure it doesn’t hike up over her ass. Even still, she keeps talking shit.
“Is that a preview of what I should expect?” She steals my drink, blowing an errant hair from her face and taking a sip before adding, “Because pass. So disappointing. I had such high hopes for you at the club.”
Her leg lifts like she’s going to crawl off me, but I hold her in place, anchoring her pussy to me.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? We’re not done.”
She bites her lip before taking another sip of my drink. It’s sexy. But that’s not what’s got my attention. It’s how her hips rock forward, ever so slightly, inconspicuously, as we stare at each other.
“Feel good?” I whisper, but she just grins.
I bet if we sat here like this long enough, she’d slowly get herself off, rubbing that desperate little clit over my cock while a whole bus full of people partied around us, and nobody’d be the wiser.
That thought has my dick growing. Her smile gives away that she can feel it too.
I lick my lips, jerking my chin for her to give me a kiss, but she shakes her head. Such a little tease. My hand is already in her hair, gripping it at the nape of her neck.
“I’m not asking. Gimme that mouth,” I say with all the gravel in my voice.
I pull, but she pushes back against my hand, resisting, her grin never leaving.
My jaw tenses because not fucking her is becoming painful. I’ve never wanted a woman more.
I smirk. “You’re gonna fucking kill me. You know that? Put me out of my misery and tell me you’re coming home with me tonight.”
She shrugs, but the glint in her eyes is teasing. “Maybe,” she whispers before her voice goes back to normal. “Or maybe I’ll go home with someone else. I haven’t decided yet.”
Oh, she thinks she’s funny. All right. Let’s play.
I steal my drink back, finishing it before setting the empty cup on the seat.
“Someone else, huh?” I repeat, my head turning side to side as I chuckle before I bring my face closer to hers. “Your pussy might as well have Property of the Raiders stamped on it. Who’s getting through me?”
Her lips slowly form a pout before she presses forward, lingering only briefly until she barely pecks my lips. As she pulls away, she throws out her challenge. “I guess we’ll just have to see.”
There’s a shit ton of conversation happening around us. Even that dumbass DJ Millie is with set up his turntables inside the bus.
But Eleanor and I…we’re in a bubble.
This fucking chick. She knows exactly what she’s doing. And it’s working.
This time, I let her crawl off me, but my eyes are still locked on hers. And as she stands, I do too. Whoa. I’m fucked-up.
My hand darts out, grabbing the stripper pole to keep me from swaying too far forward because I almost engulf her beneath my stature.
“What’s it gonna take for you to say yes to me?”
She smirks, giving a little shrug.
“Probably more than you got, QB. But go ahead. Give it your best shot—”
The music dies down, and I can feel people staring at us, but I couldn’t care less. I don’t even care if they hear us or if I look like a beggar.
She issued a challenge. And I’m going to take it.
The three milliseconds my drunk mind takes to formulate what I’m about to say is just enough for me to think I’m a fucking genius. So with all the goddamned audacity I have, I open my lips to speak with far too much confidence.
But I’m cut off, interrupted as she grabs that fucking stripper pole with one hand and the other uses TJ’s shoulder to help her stand on the bench seat.
The bus slows, stopping as cheers erupt, and she laughs, pointing at me as she announces shit to the whole bus.
“Crew here wants in my perfectly lovely panties. I think he should try harder to convince me he’s the man for the job.”
“Miss, I can’t go if you’re up there,” the driver calls out, but nobody’s listening. They’re too invested in this fucking silly spectacle. A whoosh of breath leaves me as I smile, my hand gripping the back of my neck.
“But,” she continues, “if I’m gonna fuck someone in Vegas…in Sin motherfucking City…it should be epic. Right?” More cheers. “So tell the room, QB—how is big dick energy slathered in red flags epic? That just sounds like a Wednesday night.”