On The Rocks

“I’m sorry,” he said with genuine remorse. “Do you want us to head back tomorrow?”


My shoulders sagged, and I felt bad for snapping at him. “No, of course not. You can stay as long as you want. But Sasha needs to understand there is nothing between us. And I’m with someone else.”

Choosing that moment to join us, Sasha came in wearing a pair of the shortest shorts possible, which could barely still be classified as shorts and not underwear, and a tight t-shirt. She had always been overtly sexual, wearing clothes that showed a lot of skin. I had appreciated it back when we were together… now, not so much.

Turning toward her, I tell her calmly, “That display back at the bar… don’t let it happen again, Sasha. I have a girlfriend, and she doesn’t take well to that stuff. Neither do I for that matter.”

“Oh, Hunter,” she said in exasperation as she plopped down on my couch, kicking her long, bare legs up on my coffee table. “Stop being such a stick in the mud. I was just greeting an old friend hello.”

“You don’t greet friends by sticking your tongue down their throat.”

Sasha laughed then, even as she picked up the remote control to turn the TV on, and it was rich, warm, and sexy. It grated on my nerves.

“I got it. No tongue down your throat, but it’s your loss,” she said with a sexy purr.

“I’m serious, Sasha,” I barked at her. “That shit was not cool.”

Whatever it was about the tone of my voice finally caused her to turn around to stare at me. At first, her face was hard and her eyes cold. But then it softened and she nodded her head at me. “I’m sorry, Hunter. Really. I promise you have nothing to worry about, and I’m happy for you that you found someone.”

She sounded sincere, even as I held her gaze to see if she would avert her eyes and prove to me she wasn’t. But she held true, staring straight at me, so I finally gave her a small smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

I hoped none of this made John feel uncomfortable, but it was a little too late to take any of it back. Turning to him, I said, “Will you be okay here on your own for a bit? I’m going to go see Gabby.”

“Sure,” John returned genially. “Take your time. We’re good here.”

I smiled at him in thanks. “Thanks, dude. Wanna catch some waves in the morning?”

“Absolutely,” he said, grinning back at me.

So here I am at Gabby’s apartment, knocking on the door. Within moments, it’s opened by Savannah. She gives me a warm smile.

“Hey,” she says as I walk in. “I thought you might be by.”

I raise my eyebrows at her perceptiveness, because she hardly knows me. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine, I’m sure. She’s in her bedroom.”

“Thanks,” I tell her quietly as I walk past.

When I reach Gabby’s bedroom, I turn the knob and open the door, not even bothering to knock. She doesn’t have anything I haven’t seen before, but the sight that greets me is unbelievably stellar. I catch her in the midst of changing her clothes. She stands with her back to me, wearing nothing but her bra and underwear. Her panties are nothing but a scrap of cream-colored lace that appears more thong than anything, revealing both globes of her tight ass. Yeah, my dick stands up and takes notice, and it also doesn’t miss the fact her arms are bent behind her back, unsnapping her bra. Her back is a work of art unto itself, with her dark hair hanging long and wavy over it and smooth skin for miles below that.

She hears the door open and turns toward me, just as the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders. She’s holding the cups over her breasts as she stares at me in surprise.

Gabby is a fucking vision, holding her bra up to cover herself in an uncharacteristic display of modesty, her golden skin complimenting the cream color of her lingerie. I want to tear them off her with my teeth.