Party Foul - Abby Knox Page 0,7
her eyes.
“You can thank me by keeping your eyes on me.”
Levi thrummed his middle finger back and forth with added pressure against her clit. Again she arched against his touch, her body begging for more. He responded by slipping his middle finger into her opening and strumming with his thumb.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “I need your tongue in my mouth.”
He had to oblige; the taste of her was too delicious to resist. His thumb swiped her clit back and forth with varying speed and pressure while his tongue worked her mouth in tandem. He broke the kiss as she seized up, and fell apart, releasing an aggressive moan.
“Eyes on me, Fiona.”
At the sound of her name, her orgasm doubled, her muscles tightening around his fingers, her eyes rolling back in her head, her hands grappling his chest.
Headlights passed over the bricks at the end of the alleyway, prompting Levi to gently let go of her. “That’s my ride,” she said, catching her breath, straightening her leggings and drawers.
Levi pulled down her sweater and buttoned her coat.
He lazily zipped his fly and buckled his belt. “Fuck that guy, let’s go get a slice of pizza.” He nodded toward Haven Street at the end of the alley, where her car waited, and where the blinking neon letters, “OPEN,” beckoned drunks to enjoy Deano’s Pizza by the slice.
“A fistfight, a finger-fuck in an alleyway and a slice of greasy midnight pizza. What is this, prom night?” she asked, a smartass sideways grin gripping his heart in unexpected ways.
He threw out his best charming half-grin. Half-grins were about as big a grin as Levi could naturally muster. “What can I say, I’m a stand-up guy.”
She turned her twisted smile to the contents of her open handbag, pulled out her phone, and tapped a message to someone. Probably that jag off who was waiting for her in that car.
“Nicer than that guy,” he said, nodding toward her phone, then mentally kicking himself for trying too hard.
Her face still down, she replied,
“That’s my driver. I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m just letting him know I’ll be right there.”
Levi was dumbfounded. “Why’d you let me think you were spoken for?”
She lifted one shoulder. “It’s that much hotter when a guy thinks they’re being super bad. The fantasies make everything wetter.” She whispered the last word while playfully pinching his chin scruff between her thumb and forefinger.
Levi mustered all of his energy not to let her see how she’d just gutted him like a fish, opened him up and looked at his insides. She’d let him think he was moving in on someone else’s girl, for some kind of kink or something.
“Better go,” he said, his voice turning to ice. “That was fun, but don’t come back here. It ain’t the place for you.”
She seemed to have no strong feelings one way or the other about coming back as she winked at him, turned and walked toward the waiting car at the end of the alley. Good.
When she was finally gone, Levi went back inside the bar and finished his shift, telling himself to shake it off.
Girls like her don’t get attached to guys like me. Girls like her go out with frat boys named Cody or trust fund boys named Trent from Shoreline or Castle Hill.
If she didn’t heed his advice…if she did come back, then she clearly didn’t know what was good for her.
Chapter Two
Fiona
* * *
Not even her noise-cancelling headphones could muffle the crash of aluminum on ceramic tile.
This was the third time her roommate Pete had attempted some kind of beer can masterpiece pyramid in the kitchen they shared, just feet away from the desk in her bedroom. Even with the door closed, her housemates were loud.
She definitely couldn’t study at the university library in peace, nor at the city’s public library. Someone always recognized her. On top of that, she was pretty sure her parents had hired someone to tail her all day, make sure she was going to classes and studying. She had the creepy feeling that she was under surveillance, even apart from the usual security detail that came with being the daughter of a governor with powerful enemies.
Yesterday, she’d been so fed up that she’d managed to ditch the secret-service style bodyguards, her driver, and that one obvious news photographer with his Members Only jacket and combover. She’d hopped on the subway, not bothering to pay attention to where the train was taking her. When she’d ended up in