You realize you are turning me into some kind of machine?” he noted, nodding down at his HiThere poking through the towel. Simon took the time to place his zucchini bread safely on the coffee table.“How cute is that? It’s like he’s poking his head out from behind a curtain!” I clapped my hands.“You may not be aware, but as a general rule, no man likes the word cute in the same sentence as his junk.
Alice ClaytonThe first thing I saw was blue. Blue sweater, blue eyes. Blue. Beautifully blue. Then I saw red as I recognized who belonged to the blue.
“Fucking Wallbanger,” I hissed, frozen on the spot.
His grin slid off as well as he played place-the-face for a moment.
“Fucking Pink Nightie Girl,” he finally concluded. He grimaced.
We stared, seething as the air literally turned electric between us, snapping and crackling.
The four behind us had fallen silent, listening to this little interchange. Then they caught up.
“That’s Wallbanger?” Sophia screeched.
“Wait a minute, that’s Pink Nightie Girl?” Neil laughed, and Mimi and Ryan snorted.
My face flamed bright red as I processed this information, and Simon’s sneer became that damnable smirk I’d seen that night in the hallway—when I’d banged on his door and made him quit giving it to the Giggler and yelled at him. When I’d been wearing…
“Pink Nightie Girl. Pink Nightie Girl!” I choked out, beyond pissed. Beyond angry. Well into Furious Town. I stared at him, pouring all of my tension into that one look. All of the sleepless nights and lost Os and cold showers and banana thrusting and merciless wet dreams went into that one look.
I wanted to level him with my eyes, make him beg for mercy. But no…Not Simon, Director of the International House Of Orgasms.
He
Was
Still
Smirking.
Tags: meeting wallbanger pink-nightie-girrl
Dream Caroline and Dream Simon were some naughty kids.
Alice ClaytonThe irony that Simon was literally trying to run away from pussy was not lost on me.
Alice ClaytonYou can’t misinterpret the sound of a good spanking, and someone was receiving one next door.
Alice ClaytonShe was giggling. She was a dirty, dirty giggler.
Alice ClaytonThe sounds pouring forth from his nasal passages registered somewhere between grizzly bear and exploding tractor trailer.
Alice ClaytonHey, man, I'm old school. Don't make me bust out the Easy-E and the N.W.A I will got straight up gangsta on your ass. No one is more hardcore than a rich, suburban white girl.
Alice ClaytonI breathed in, he breathed out. We traded actual air.
Alice ClaytonWhy the hell do you love me so much? Seriously, I am fucked up and nuts,” I said into his chest, still wet from the bath. I could feel him chuckling.
“You think I don’t know you’re nuts? I’ve known that all along. Don’t fool yourself. And like I’ve been telling you, I like nuts girls,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
“Well, you sure can pick ‘em if that’s what you’re in to.
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