As if that wasn’t bad enough, she had to then go and reach up to touch it with the tip of her finger, making a low growl burst out of me.
Not letting go, she tipped her head back to look up at me. “Does that hurt when I do this?” She rubbed her finger over it again.
I couldn’t talk. Well, I could, but it’d be something crude, and I only just had the presence of mind not to want to do that. Sadie deserved better, so I just shook my head.
“Your penis is much prettier than the ones I saw online. It’s the prettiest one I’ve ever seen.”
This time, I didn’t have the control not to talk. “How many have you seen?”
Leaning away from me slightly but still holding on tight, she lifted her eyes to the ceiling as she thought about it. Jesus Christ, it needed that amount of thinking?
“Uh, I dunno,” she eventually shrugged. “Like twenty, maybe?”
And here was the cure for a boner, hearing the magic number.
Grinding my teeth slightly, I thought about the hypocrisy in what I was feeling, but I couldn’t help it. “Twenty?”
“Well, I don’t count how much porn I’ve seen, Elijah,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like I keep a running tally of it. Porn is porn, it depends on my hormones.”
Blinking, I sifted through what she’d just said. She was talking about porn? And she’d watched enough of it to not remember how many penises she’d seen in it and not in real life? As in movie cock, not real-life ones.
Now that I could work with.
And just like that, my own dick decided he’d forgiven her enough to get hard again, making her giggle.
“He’s friendly,” she chuckled. “Penises are ugly, but he’s quite pretty with his earrings in.”
She really needed to stop talking. Some dicks might take offense at what she was saying, but mine just seemed to want her even more. It was a problem that I was losing control over, and I didn’t want to frighten her with her past.
I was just tensing the muscles I needed to move away from her, hoping at the same time that she’d let go of him when I did, when she moved forward and pressed a kiss to the tip.
“Sadie—”
Tipping her head back, she looked at me and whispered, “Elijah, will you teach me how to suck your pretty penis?”
All common sense fled. Moving quickly, I pulled my sweats back up, making her flinch back in disappointment, before I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder, and started walking toward the bedroom.
“I could’ve walked by my own self,” she rasped, reminding me of what someone sounded like when they were sick.
Then again, we’d had enough to drink tonight to maybe make her puke, and her hanging upside down wasn’t going to help that. On that thought, I tugged her back down until she was lying sideways in my arms and continued walking toward the bed.
“You’ve got little legs,” I pointed out as I lowered her onto the side of the mattress. “My way was faster.” She didn’t look pale or like she was scared, so I was hoping I hadn’t made her sick. “How do you feel?”
Frowning at me, she rubbed her hand over her body. “Uh, I guess my skin’s soft. I have this great moisturizer by L’Occitane, and my body wash has—”
Groaning, I stopped her hand from continuing its journey across her chest. “Not that, your stomach.” Again, her hand went to move to it, but this time all I had to do was tighten my fingers slightly to stop it. “I mean, do you feel sick?”
Her eyebrows shot up at the question. “No, why, is there something going around?”
“I was thinking the whisky might’ve made you feel sick if you’re not used to getting drunk.”
“Oh, that?” she snorted, waving her hand at me. “Nah, I might not get drunk often, but it takes a lot more than that to make me chunder.”
“Make you what?”
“Chunder,” she said slowly. “You know, like puke, barf, vomit, yip—”
Dropping to my knees in front of her, I cupped her face in my hands, grinning at how crazy she was. “I get it, pixie.”
It was like someone had frozen her in place as she stared at me, and I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it. Now that I’d brought up the alcohol puking thing, it’d finally hit her.
Looking around for a bucket or trash can, I wasn’t aware of her moving until she grabbed my face and turned me back to face her.
“Do that again?” she ordered, not letting go of me.
My brain was now at a weird semi-sober, semi-drunk state, so it took me a moment to run through everything I’d done that she might want me to do again. Maybe I was drunker than I realized, though, because not one damn thing struck me as a possibility.
So, I went with the last thing that I’d done, thinking I could work my way back. “Look for a trash can?”
“No,” she snapped, shaking me gently. “Smile again. I’ve never seen you do it like that, and I want to see it again. In fact, you have to do it all the time from now on.”
Only this woman could do this to me. Turn me on, make me laugh, and smile like I had no problems in the world. She made me want to hide her away in my pocket, so no one else got this feeling from her.
That didn’t stop the laughter that burst out of me, though, or the huge grin that followed it as I lowered my head down to look at her, seeing the same expression on her face as before. The best way to describe it was dazzled, and fuck me, that worked for my dick as well.
“Sadie?”
“You’re beautiful,” she breathed, tracing her fingertip over the bristles on my chin. “It’s really not fair.”
“It’s not?”
“No. You’ve got a pretty pecker when they’re just ugly things, and you’ve got a beautiful face. That’s not fair to the rest of us. Women who normally wouldn’t want to come face-to-face with a penis will see yours and want to kiss it all over, ruining it for the rest of the men in the world.”
Whatever followed, “they’re just ugly things normally,” was lost on me because the fact she thought mine was pretty was an ego boost.
Then she pulled me out of my euphoria with something else, “And your face—I didn’t have a type until I saw it, now my type is green eyes, a straight nose, a jaw like this,” she poked mine, and then did the same to my mouth, “and lips like these. I can’t even go to my happy place thinking about Bane.”
What the fuck? “You have a crush on Bane? As in Batman bane?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, her eyes going unfocused. “Well, not him, but the guy who plays him—Tom Hanks.”
Now, it had to be said, I wasn’t fully drunk, but I wasn’t just buzzed—I was somewhere in the middle. But for the love of fuck, even I knew Tom Hanks didn’t play Bane.
“Uh, Tom Hanks was Forest Gump, pixie, not Bane.”
The unfocused look shifted out of her eyes as she glared at me. “I think I know the man I’m having babies with, Elijah, and it isn’t Forest Gump.”
“But Tom Hanks played him,” I stressed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “He wasn’t Bane.”
“Oh,” she hummed. “Then I mean Tom Cruise.”