Wallbanger
Wallbanger (Cocktail #1)(15)
Author: Alice Clayton
“Okay, that’s it!” I shouted and I pointed at Simon. “You. A word, please?” I barked and grabbed him by the arm. I yanked him outside and pulled him down one of the paths that led away from the house. He scrambled along after me, my heels ringing out angrily on the flagstone.
“Jesus, slow down, will you?”
My response was to dig my nails into his arm, which made him yelp. Good.
We reached a little enclave set away from the house and the party—far enough away that no one would hear him scream when I removed his balls from his body. I released his arm and rounded on him, pointing a finger in his surprised face.
“You’ve got some nerve telling everyone about me, ass**le! What the hell? Pink Nightie Girl? Are you kidding me?” I whisper-yelled.
“Hey, I could ask you the same question! Why do all those girls in there call me Wallbanger, huh? Who’s telling tales now?” he whisper-yelled right back.
“Are you kidding me? Cockblocker? Just because I refused to spend another night listening to you and your harem does not make me a cockblocker!” I hissed.
“Well, due to the fact that your door-banging blocked my cock, it actually does make you a cockblocker. Cockblocker!” he hissed back. This entire conversation was beginning to sound like something that might have happened in fourth grade—except for all the nighties and the c**k talk.
“Now, you listen here, mister,” I said, trying for a more adult tone. “I’m not going to spend every night listening to you try to crash your girl’s head through my wall with the force of your dick alone! No way, buddy.” I pointed a finger at him. He grabbed it.
“What I do on my side of that wall is my business. Let’s get that straight right now. And why are you so concerned about me and my dick anyway?” he asked, smirking at me again.
It was the smirk, that damn smirk, that made me go ballistic. That and the fact that he was still holding my finger.
“It is my business when you and your sex train come knocking on my wall every night!”
“You’re really fixated on this, aren’t you? Wish you were on the other side of that wall? Are you lookin’ to ride that sex train, Nightie Girl?” He chuckled as he wagged his finger in my face.
“Okay, that’s it,” I growled. I grabbed his finger in defense, which instantly locked us together. We must have looked like two loggers trying to cut down a tree. We struggled back and forth—beyond ridiculous. We both huffed and puffed, each trying to get the upper hand, each refusing to relent.
“Why are you such a manwhoring ass**le?” I asked, my face inches from his.
“Why are you such a cockblocking priss?” he asked, and when I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought, the f**ker kissed me.
Kissed me.
Placed his lips on mine and kissed me. Under the moon and the stars, with the sounds of the waves crashing and the crickets cricketing. My eyes were still open, furiously looking back into his. His eyes were so blue, it was like looking at two angry oceans.
He pulled away, our fingers still gripping each other’s like pliers. I released his hand and slapped him across the face. He looked shocked, even more so as I grabbed his sweater and pulled him closer. I kissed him, this time closing my eyes and letting my hands fill with wool and my nose fill with warm boy smell.
God damn, he smelled good.
His hands crept around to the small of my back, and as soon as he touched me, I realized where I was and what I was doing. “Dammit,” I said, and pulled away. We stood looking at each other, and I wiped at my lips. I started to walk away and then turned back quickly.
“This never happened, got it?” I pointed at him again.
“Whatever you say.” He smirked, and I felt my temper flare again.
“And cool it with the Pink Nightie stuff, okay?” I whisper-yelled and turned to walk back down the path.
“Until I get to see your other nighties, that’s what I’m calling you,” he shot back, and I almost tripped. I smoothed my dress and headed back to the party.
Unbelievable.
“So I told the guy, there is no way I’m organizing your ‘play room.’ You can arrange your own riding crops!” Mimi shrieked, and we all laughed. She can tell a story like nobody’s business. She has a knack for bringing a group together, especially when it’s new people just getting to know each other.
As the party began to wind down, my girls and Simon’s guys were gathered around a fire pit on one of the terraces. Dug deep and lined with flagstone, it had benches all around. While the fire crackled merrily, we laughed and drank and told stories. And by that I mean Mimi, Sophia, Neil, and Ryan told stories while Simon and I glared at each other over the flames. With the sparks flying, if I squinted my eyes a little I could imagine him roasting in the fires of hell.
“So, are we gonna address the elephant in the room here?” Ryan asked, drawing his knees up and placing his beer on the bench next to him.
“Which elephant would that be?” I asked sweetly, sipping my wine.
“Oh, please—the fact that the guy thumping the headboard off your bed is the hottie across the way, girl!” Mimi squealed, almost tossing her drink in Neil’s face. He laughed along with her, but pried the glass out of her hand before she could do any real damage.
“There really isn’t anything to talk about,” Simon said. “I have a new neighbor. Her name is Caroline. That’s it.” He nodded, eyeing me across the fire. I raised my eyebrow and sipped my wine.
“Yeah, it’s nice to know Pink Nightie Girl has a name. The way he described you…wow! I wasn’t sure you were real, but you’re as hot as he said you were!” Neil hooted at me appreciatively, trying for a moment to fist bump Simon through the flames before he realized how hot they were.
My eyes shot to Simon. He grimaced at the description. Interesting…
“So, you were the guys banging back at us tonight? Listening to the Guns N’ Roses?” Sophia asked, nudging Ryan.
“You were the girls singing along, I suppose, yes?” He nudged back, smiling.
“Small world, isn’t it?” Mimi sighed, gazing up at Neil. He winked at her, and I saw quickly where this was going. She had her giant, Sophia had her pretty boy, and I had my wine. Which was disappearing by the second.
“Excuse me,” I muttered and stood up to find a waiter.
I made my way through the dwindling crowd, nodding at a few faces I recognized. I accepted yet another glass of wine and strolled back outside. I’d started back toward the fire pit when I heard Mimi say, “And you should have heard Caroline when she told us about the night she banged on his door.”