Page 5 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

“Hurry back,” she says flirtily, and I nod, wondering how I’m going to get out of this because my dick and brain are already in agreement that we’d rather fuck the blond birthday girl.

I get up and make my way toward the bathroom, passing the group of three girls who are out celebrating her birthday. When I pass them, I turn my head to look at her, and when I meet her eyes, I give her my most charming smile before I keep walking.

I look down at my watch and see it reads just after midnight, and even though I’d rather not go alone, I probably should go back to my hotel. I’m leaving in the morning to return to Maryland after two weeks of training camp with the high school football team I coach, before school starts. Camp ended on Friday, but I decided to stay the weekend to relax, unwind, and get some much-needed tension releasebefore heading back.

I finish using the restroom, and while washing my hands, I stare at myself in the mirror. I have a little more facial hair than usual, and while I don’t hate the extra attention it’s brought, I’m looking forward to trimming it down to my cleaner-shaven look when I get home. I step out of the bathroom, and I’m pleasantly surprised, thoughnot completely shocked, to see the birthday girl leaning against the wall in the hallway, spinning a straw around what I’m assuming is a vodka or tequila soda. “Girlfriend?” She looks over her shoulder toward the bar before turning back to me and raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” I tell her with a smirk before leaning against the wall.

Her eyes slowly move up my body before landing on my eyes. Something wicked flashes in her eyes, and I’m fucking glad it seems we’re on the same page about the attraction between us. “Are you going to buy me a drink for my birthday?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Of course. What does the princess want?”

She giggles and straightens her tiara before smoothing herbirthday princesssash and downing the rest of her drink in one gulp. “How about a shot?”

“I don’t know that I can handle watching you take another one ofthoseshots,” I tell her in reference to the blow job shot I watched her take earlier.

“Oh? Why? Remind you of something?” she asks before a devilish grin slides across her face.

I take a step closer to her so I’m pressed right against her. She’s got to be at least six inches shorter than me, so I tower over her, and it gives me a slight look down her shirt at what I know have to be very perky tits. I reach up and grip her chin gently before squeezing it, making her mouth fall open, and I drag my thumb over her pouty bottom lip. “Maybe there’s something else I’d like to see you suck down your throat without using your hands.”

Her tongue darts out and drags over my thumb, and I let out a noise that sounds like half groan, half laugh as she wraps her lips around it. She bites down gently, and my dick throbs in response at the thought of being back at my hotel with this girl and inside her mouth.

And her pussy.

“How old did you just turn?” I ask her, hoping she’s at least a few years over twenty-one.I’m not a stranger to women in that age group, but I can already hear Ellie’s voice in my ear.

“Twenty-two. How old are you?”

Christ.“Thirty-eight.”

“Oh. Well, I did not expect that. I was thinking maybe early thirties. You’ll have to share your skin care routine,” she says as she reaches up and taps me on the nose.

“I eat my fair share of pussy. It keeps me looking young.”

She narrows those green eyes, and I have a flash of her doing that while she’s on her knees in front of me. “So you’re a bit of a manwhore then?”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “I prefer the term sexually proficient.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “What’s your name anyway?”

“River.” I hold my hand out. “And you are?”

She slides her hand into mine. It’s soft and smooth, and it reminds me that I’ve spent the past ten days high-fiving men with calloused hands. “Jordan.”

While using one hand to keep hers encased in mine, I reach up to play with the ends of her hair, wrapping the silky strands gently around my fingers. “Do you want to come back to my hotel with me, Jordan?”

“You know as much as I would love to end up on the next episode ofDatelinefor going back to a hotel with a random man I’ve known for ten minutes, I do have a bit more self-preservation. Not to mention, I’m out with my friends, and you’re on a date,” she says, tapping her fingertips as she lists each reason.

“I wouldn’t call it a date.”

She drops my hand and folds her arms over her chest, which does nothing but draw my eyes there. I glance downward for no more than a second, but it’s enough for me to see a hint of scolding in her eyes over getting a peek at her tits. “Would she?”

“We just met, so doubtful.”

She narrows her eyes again before taking a step back. “Maybe another time.”

Remembering that I’m four and a half hours from home, I respond, “I’m not from around here. I’m heading home in the morning.”