“I’m on vacation,” I remind her.
Her eyes twinkle. “Which is perfect.”
“How so?”
“Because you’ll want to wine and dine her after the ball.”
Yeah, right. “Highly unlikely. I’m not interested in having a relationship with anyone . . . at all.”
“It’s Sophie Peterson.”
Everything around me goes still. Sophie Peterson used to be the reason I kept a bottle of lotion under my bed and always had a missing sock. She was the reason I rarely dated anyone in high school and when I did, they couldn’t have dark hair or brown eyes. She was the reason I left Raleigh and went across the country for school. Sophie Peterson with her chocolate brown hair, brown eyes, and perfect smile. I can remember it clear as day. The corner of her mouth lifting slowly and her eyes lighting up. Damn, seeing her smile gave every guy in high school false hope thinking they stood a chance with her. I remember the first time I almost saw her tits when she was in Ellie’s room changing. It was enough to send me back to my room to rub one out.
“Now that I have your attention,” Ellie says with a smirk.
“I’m not an escort service.” Besides, Sophie wasn’t interested in me in high school. Why the hell would she be now?
Ellie huffs. “Never said you were, but you’re here and she’s single, and you could be her knight in shining armor.” Ellie repositions on my bed, sitting on her knees. “Think about it, Tanner. You in a tuxedo and Sophie in a beautiful dress with her long hair cascading down her bare back. You’d have every excuse to touch her, to feel her body pressed against yours. For one night, you’d be tasked with making her douchebag ex jealous.”
I stare at her as if she’s lost her mind. “Have you been reading mom’s Harlequin’s again? I’m not Fabio.”
Ellie sighs. It’s like she’s losing her patience with me. “Take her to the ball.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
Because I’m fucking in love with her! Wait, am I? I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Doesn’t sound like my cup of tea.”
Ellie types on her phone and turns it toward me. It’s a picture of Sophie, dressed in a yellow bikini, which is a hard color to pull off unless you tan like her. Her hair, which I have dreamed about touching for years, rests over her shoulder, and there is something about it, about her. I can’t put my finger on it. Just looking at her makes me hard. That’s how crazy Sophie makes me. I roll back onto my stomach, making sure my sister can’t see what’s happening in my nether region.
“Please tell me you don’t have a hard on right now?” Ellie grumbles.
“Grow up,” I tell her.
“You’re such a guy. I swear, you’re all one track minded.”
I roll my eyes. “And women aren’t? Some of you are dirtier than men. Take for instance, that time when you screwed Ben Wankerson behind the shed at school.”
Gasping, she holds up a hand. “First of all, his last name wasn’t Wankerson.” I wait for her to finish her sentence, but she says nothing.
That makes me smile. “You know you can’t start a sentence with ‘first of all’ and not finish the list, right? And, I love how you correct me on his name but not the part about the shed.”
She growls. “Shut up and tell me you’ll take Sophie to the gala.”
“No.”
“Tanner,” she whines. “I know you have a crush on her.”
“Used to,” I say, shrugging nonchalantly.
“You still do. I know you have a picture of her in your spank drawer. Just think, if you take her, you can come home and jack off to your physical memory instead of a made up one.”
She’s definitely crossed the line now. I’m not a horny teenager anymore who can’t get a piece of ass. On the contrary, I’ve had my fair share of women over the years. I sit up and grab her arm to drag her out of my room. “You’re ridiculous. Stay out of my stuff, my room and love life.” I push her out of my room and slam the door, making sure to lock it. I fall back onto my bed and close my eyes, but all I see is Sophie, and not in a way she would appreciate me seeing her.
Dressed hiked up over her hips.
Sophie on her knees between my legs.
Her dark hair spread across my pillow.
Me between her legs.
Her hand in my hair.
Me finally nestling between her creamy thighs.
“Fuck my life,” I groan, only to hear a fit of giggles on the other side. “Go away, Ellie.”
“Take her to the dance, Tanner. You know you want to.”
“I hate you.”
She laughs again, but it fades away.
I don’t know how long I laid in bed, ignoring the tent Omar was making in my shorts. I reach for the bottle of lotion I know is still under my bed and add some to my hand. Of course, I forgot to push my shorts down, so now I’m wiggling out of them and the effort seems to be too much. But my little buddy, it’s like he knows what’s coming and springs loose of my waistband the first chance he gets. I lift my head and take a look, for no other reason than to stroke my own ego. I may call my dick little, but he’s far from it. In fact, I’ve had plenty of one-night stand call backs, who wanted another go around.
Spreading the lotion around my cock, it fucking throbs, knowing it’s about to get some action. Whether my hand or a sweet pussy, it doesn’t care. He loves a good stroking. My hand grips my dick and moves up and down, while I picture Sophie in her string bikini, pulling each tie slowly and methodically. Her bra goes first and she cups her supple tits, pushing her taut nipples between her fingers.
“Fuck,” I mutter to my empty room.
The bottoms come off slowly and her legs part as her hand trails down her tanned torso and her finger parts her perfectly plump lips. I pump harder, feeling the pressure as my balls tighten. I want to slide my hard cock between those lips and show her what she’s been missing all these years.
“Yeah, touch yourself.” And she does. She fucking slides her naughty finger into her core and pulls it back out. It goes right to her mouth, and she smiles. Fuck, I want to kiss her, to taste her, to make her scream my name. It’s been my dream since I was fourteen years old when Ellie brought Sophie home.
“Arghhhh.” I’m close. My hand is sliding up and down my shaft like it is its only job in life. My hips buck as I imagine myself pounding into Sophie with her arched back and my hand tangled in her hair. My release comes, it’s hot and rapid. I turn into my pillow and groan loudly.
Breathing heavily, it takes me five, maybe ten minutes to recover. I clean up as best as I can and go to my door, opening it quietly to make sure my sister isn’t lurking before running into the bathroom and hopping into the shower.
I’m quick, washing everything and trying not to think about my fantasy because if I do, I’ll be hard again and will need to take care of the situation. Back in my room, I find a clean pair of shorts in one of my boxes and slip those on. No need to get dressed because I’m going to take my Wrangler over to the beach today and hit the waves. I need to exert some energy.
When I get upstairs, my sister is at the table, playing on her phone. I know I’m going to regret this, but after what I just did, I have no choice. “I’ll take her,” I say as I walk away.