"When Ari Throws A Fit"
Ari’s Point Of View
The sight of Damyn sleeping is enough to drive any man crazy. She’s sprawled out on her back, just like she was last night while I was drilling her. Even her mouth is open the same way as she snores softly. She’s wearing my T-shirt which is enough to cover her whole body like a dress because of how short she is. Except now it’s riding up her stomach, revealing her bare p**sy. Shaved and smooth. Pink and pale. She’s freaking perfect. My eyes drop to the floor where her panties and bra are laying haphazardly on the carpet.
Which brings my mind back to last night. To the wild s*x we had. With Nicolette the s*x was always wild. It was never a dull moment with her. And it never would be.
I finished buttoning my polo shirt and went to work zipping my jeans only to discover that I had a massive hard on that was only growing with every tantalizing second I watched Damyn sleep.
“Like what you see?” She bends over, giving me a perfect view of her bare a**. I begin to smile but stop myself when I realize she’s getting dressed.
I jump at Damyn’s voice, looking up to find her standing in front of me. She cups my b*lls in her small hand and starts to stroke them through my jeans. “I love waking up to you hard and ready for me.”
I kiss her hard on the mouth, wounding my arms around her waist. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that offer, isn’t your mom coming home today?”
She curses. “Yeah. She has some weird dinner date planned with her boss and his son.”
I frown. “His son?”
She sighs and breaks out of my arms. “Not this again, Ari.”
“No, f*ck that. Who’s his son?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
She slides on her underwear and clasps her bra after taking my shirt off.
“How old is he?” I ask. I don’t like the idea of her having dinner with some prick and his dad. Especially not if he’s our age.
“I don’t know Ari,” she says furtively.
I smile when I think of something that will shut this whole thing down. “Fine. Then I’m coming. What time is this dinner?”
“No, Ari, you are not” she argues. “This is a family thing and I don’t want to give my mom another reason to dislike you.”
“I don’t give a sh*t what your mom thinks of me. What time is dinner?.”
She groans deep in her throat. “Six.”
She’s now wearing her polka dotted purple and white dress from yesterday and her black ballerina flats.
Now she’s walking around the room searching for something.
“What are you looking for? And where are you going?” I demand.
“God, Ari. Do you have to know every little detail about my life?” She snatches her car keys off my nightstand and finds her purse on the floor, sliding it on.
“I’ll see you at dinner.” She steps on her tiptoes to peck me on the lips and leaves my room in a blur.
I follow her outside where she’s already sliding behind the wheel of her purple jeep cherokee. She waves sarcastically before backing out and peeling down the road.
I couldn’t care less about her attitude. I am going to that dinner. And nothing is going to stop that.
