Page 77 of The Comedown

Before I can get another word out, the crowd starts booing, bringing me back to the moment and the fact that we’re not alone. Collette makes me feel like no other, but she also suppresses like no other. She’s my new drug of choice, and just like everything else in my life, I’m gonna over-fucking-indulge.

Bruce rushes out with a megaphone, probably to tell everyone the show is cancelled, but I’m not about to stick around and face that wrath, so when Collette turns to leave, I follow.

I would’ve followed her anyway. I’m used to boos. It’s silence I can’t handle.

My steps don’t take me as fast as hers and I get frustrated watching her speed up so easily, leaving me behind without a single care whatsoever.

“Fuck you,” she says, and I don’t have to guess who she’s talking to.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I smart off because I can. It feels too good to have her attention on me. I don’t care how I go about getting it, as long as she gives it.

She mutters, “You wouldn’t know a real good time if it sat on your face and rode your tongue to ecstasy,” but I hear it and bark out a laugh, stopping her.

Finally.

Stay. Stay and fight. Stay and hate.

Just fucking stay.

I crowd her back, telling her, “You’re right about that, Poohbear.”

It takes her a minute to put the pieces together, giving me time to memorize her body against mine. I’ve played around with her a few times, and even gotten a hug out of her, but nothing like this. I want to be able to draw a map of her body from memory. Like an early explorer, I want to conquer it all.

“You’ve never gone down on a woman before?”

My scoff feathers over her neck, making her shiver, and my cock swells instantly. Fuck, I want to make her shiver a thousand more times.

“Never needed to. They come for me on command. I don’t need to coax shit from anyone.”

“Well, you must be really…”

Her voice dripping in sex, she spins in my arms, running her hands up my chest to my shoulders, then almost to the spot on my neck she’s always dabbing at.

“…really…”

Her breath strokes my lips and I groan, growing ten times harder.

“…lazy in bed.” With an arctic draft of a tone, she pushes me away and I stagger back a few steps.

What the fucking fuck was that?

“Typical spoiled celebrity.”

God, I want those ruthless lips on mine already. Eat me alive, Collette. Fucking please.

But she won’t. She ain’t having it. I wasn’t born with a sliver spoon on my tongue, but because I’ve never had pussy on it either that somehow still makes me “spoiled.” And lazy, too?

The fuck?

“So you only fuck guys that eat you out first?” I didn’t say I wouldn’t, just that I haven’t had to. I can get my knees dirty. Shit, I was already bending ’em the second I heard her rapping about me tonguing her pussy.

“Among other things, yeah. Haven’t you ever heard the best things come after hard work?”

“Are you saying you’re hard to make come? Or that you’re the best? Because I could—”

“When a man falls to his knees for me,” she starts walking backward, “it’s not because I challenge him to, little lamb. It’s because he can’t imagine being anywhere other than having his face buried between my thighs. He begs just to get a taste, but I don’t let him until that happens, because just like you, I don’t coax shit from anyone either.”

“You’re talking about a man. Leave your bus unlocked tonight and I’ll show you how a king eats.” I almost—almost—say your king, but don’t.