Page 45 of One More Dare
“Are you this nice to all your friends?” he asks as he opens his front door.
I follow him in while I consider my answer. I was just thinking about how unlike Porter is compared to my other friends, but I don’t think he means it like that. I finally answer, “I don’t know. In different ways, I guess. Our friendship just feels different.”
He doesn’t respond. He walks over to the couch and plops on it, face down.
“Hey, hey,” I coo as I rush over to sit on the edge of the couch by him. I put one hand on his back to rub soothing circles and am relieved when he doesn’t pull away from my touch. “Did I do something wrong?” He groans into the throw pillow. “P, talk to me.”
I’m worried I did something to upset him, but maybe he’s just really drunk because he finally responds. “I’m hungry.”
“What do you want?” I ask, grabbing my phone and opening my delivery app. “I can get you anything.”
“I don’t know, you pick.” He shrugs so I quickly order the same thing we’d had from Taco Bell on his birthday since I’m positive he likes it.
“Okay, it’ll be here soon,” I share after I press order, hoping it’s quick for his sake. He’s clearly drunk, and I don’t want him to get sick, especially since his attitude just changed, and I’m notsure why. If I wasn’t worried about leaving him here, I’d just go and pick it up since it’s so close to his house, but I don’t want to be apart from him to do that.
“Let’s get you some water,” I insist. He’s still lying on the couch, but he shifts onto his back. His slim body is stretched out below me, and my eyes snag on the sluttiest little tattoo I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It’s right over his hip bone, the one I couldn’t make out last time I noticed the ink, but now I can clearly see it says “lucky you.”
I suck in a sharp breath. I have the wildest urge to lean over and touch it. I’ve always found tattoos to be attractive, but there’s something about this one, the way it’s normally hidden and has such a sexual undertone, that makes it so much hotter.
“You like what you see?” he asks, and fuck me, I realize my mouth is parted so I shut it, swallowing before I tear my gaze away and look up at him.
“I, uh, yeah. I like your tattoo,” I answer honestly. “Do you have any other hidden ones?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says with a smirk, and I can’t help but let out a little laugh.
“I like when you get like this,” I admit.
“Like what?”
“Bratty,” I answer quickly before adding, “playful, free.”
“Does it make you want to rein me in?” he teases in a mischievous, borderline sultry tone before looking up at me with parted lips. I’m still sitting on the edge of the cushion next to him, and my heart rate is kicking up at his obvious flirting.
We’ve joked around with flirty undertones before, but now that I’m questioning my sexuality, I’m interpreting it in a whole new way. I don’t think I’ve ever had a man genuinely flirt with me before, but I think I like it. I especially like that it’s with him, and I don’t want to stop it.
“Is that what you need, P? Need me to put you in yourplace?” I lean in a little closer, hand now resting on his hip, thumb brushing over the ink I’m struggling to peel my eyes off.
“You can try.” He smirks, his bloodshot blue eyes twinkling with amusement.
My fingers dig into his hip a bit more, my thumb pressing into the ink. “I could think of a few ways I could quiet that mouth of yours.”
His eyes widen, and this time he sucks in a deep breath. “What’s happening right now?”
“I don’t know, we’re having fun, I guess,” I respond more quietly.
Porter starts chewing his bottom lip, and instinct takes over. My hand cups his jaw, thumb gently pulling his lip from his teeth. His saliva ends up on my thumb, and his lip bounces back up while my fingers linger on his chin.
The tension is thick, just like my dick is becoming, and I rake my gaze over his mouth. What would it be like to lean over and kiss him?
The doorbell cuts through the tension in the room and snaps me out of whatever the fuck that was. Removing my hand from his skin feels like a loss though, and when I stand up, I realize just how tightly wound my body is. Hopefully without drawing too much attention to myself, I adjust my dick before opening the door. I grab the food that’s sitting on the doorstep, close the door behind me, and walk back over to where Porter is now sitting up on the couch, eyeing me curiously.
“Eat,” I instruct, a little firmer than I intended. “And drink your water.” I hold up the cup I’d gotten him earlier. Instead of taking it from my hand though, he leans forward and parts his lips like he wants me to pour the water into his mouth for him.
It’s absolutely insane, but as soon as his lips touch the glass, I tilt it back.
I hold my free hand under the rim just in case any drips from his mouth. When he’s drunk more than half the cup, he wrapsone of his hands around mine on the glass and guides me to tip it back further to finish it. His throat bobs as he swallows, and my eyes are fixated on it. Once the glass is empty, he leans back and smiles boldly at me. A little bit of water runs down his chin, and without thinking, I use my thumb to wipe it off.
“There. All gone just like you wanted… Daddy.” He says it with an edge of attitude. At first he smirks, but it quickly grows, and the smile that takes over his face is massive. He brings his hands to his lips and starts laughing uncontrollably as if he can’t believe he just said that out loud. To me.
