Page 7 of Mr. Not Quite Perfect
“Well, is that a promise?”
“I would say so,” he said. “You didn’t answer my question, though.”
“What question?” I grinned.
“Am I the best?”
“We haven’t fucked yet, so I can’t say whether or not you’re the best.”
He stared at me and nodded. “Okay.” He looked over at his phone and sat up. “Well, it looks like the pizza will be here in a couple of minutes, so I’m going to have to delay the fuck of your life.”
“The fuck of my life, eh?” I threw my head back in laughter. “You really are confident, aren’t you?”
“A man like me has to be.”
“Oh yeah? And why is that?”
“Because if I don’t exude power, then no one will believe that I’m number one.”
“Do you treat the bedroom like you do the boardroom?” I asked, watching as he got off the bed and pulled on his briefs.
He stared at me for a few seconds. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that’s the sort of phrase I would expect someone to say in the boardroom. You exude authority so you can get respect. But why would you have to exude dominance or authority in the bedroom for someone to want to sleep with you?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that…” He took a step toward me, and then we heard the doorbell ring.
I sighed. “Saved by the bell.”
He gave me a little grin. “You want to grab a T-shirt from the closet? You can come out and join me. We can eat some pizza.”
“Just a T-shirt?” I asked, laughing. “Not some boxers as well?”
“My T-shirt’s a large. I think it should cover your ass unless you’re worried I’m going to fuck you while eating pizza.”
“I’m not worried about that,” I said, laughing. “Maybe I’ll eat pizza or get on your lap.” I got out of bed and walked over to him. I pressed my breasts against his chest.
He held his breath as he stared at me. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, haven’t you ever fucked while eating pizza?” I said, licking my lips slowly. “There’s absolutely nothing better.” I twirled my hair and looked at him from the side.
He just stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes darting back and forth. “I don’t know if you’re joking or not, Molly Malone.”
“Oh well. I guess you’ll just have to see,” I said, running my finger down his chest and toward his briefs. My hands cupped his semi-hard cock, and he grabbed it.
“You like playing games, don’t you, Molly?”
“Not really,” I said, laughing. “But I do like a good fuck, and I expect you to be the best now that you’ve been boasting so much.”
“I’ve been boasting?” he said, throwing his head back and laughing. “I don’t think I have to boast. I think my tongue, and my fingers, and my cock speak for themselves.”
“We’ll see,” I said with a little wink, stepping back. “Now go and get the pizza. I’m hungry.”
Chapter 4