11. October 29 - Wilder

"Put your arms around me and hold on," I direct, kicking her car door shut with my foot as she ropes her arms around my neck.

For as much as she drank, she doesn't smell like a bin of whiskey mixed with morning breath. She still smells like herself, and I take a deep inhale, breathing her in as I carry her to our apartment. "Tanks fer drinin," she slurs, and I laugh at the garbled words.

"You're welcome."

I set her down while I fumble with her keys to find the right one, and she slides down the wall. Warm arms circle my calf, and she rests her head on my shin, giggling. "I found your leg!" she yells, and my eyes glance to the neighboring apartments, afraid we're waking them. She moves her hands up my leg and wraps both arms around my thigh, leaning her cheek against it. "Your leg smells good. Better than pickles."

"I wash my pants," I laugh, smoothing her hair back as she looks up at me with hooded eyes. "You're fun when you're drunk."

She sticks out her tongue. "We can have fun tonight if you want," she coos.

She slides her hand further up my leg and reaches for my dick. I gasp and grab her hand, letting the keys fall to the floor. She picks them up and hands them to me. "We're not doing that tonight, Savannah."

"Why won't you let me touch your dick?" she pouts.

I take the keys from her and focus on opening the door and getting inside. It's not easy when she's still holding onto my leg like children hold on to their parents' legs for fun. "Normally, I'd let you touch my dick any time you want, but you're too drunk. My cock is a spectacular thing, and all women who see it should be sober enough to fully appreciate it in its full glory."

I put her keys on the hook she usually uses and focus on detaching her from my leg as she laughs against me. Reaching down, I pull her up as she fights with me. "Dick. Dick. Dick," she chants as I lean her against the wall to reach down and unlace her boots. "I want the spectacular dick."

I toss her boots to the side and stand up in time for her to head butt me in the chest. It's not hard or on purpose. I know she didn't mean to do it, and I smooth her hair back so she'll look into my eyes. When she finally focuses, I rub my nose against the tip of hers, toying with her. "Savannah, I want you. I really do. Just not like this when you may not remember tomorrow or even give me good consent tonight."

She whimpers into my chest, and throws her head back, trying to keep her eyes focused. They flutter and threaten to close. "I can never read that book you're named after again if I can't have you," she complains, wiping her eyes.

"You won't be able to read it if you have me."

"Why's dat?" she slurs.

I bend down to her ear. She's driven me crazy for a couple of weeks now, and she deserves to suffer. Let her go into the shower with that pouf and rub it against her nipples and clit until I hear her moan for me through the wall.

I exhale on her earlobe and brace my arms on either side of her face, flexing them like I know she likes. "Because when we finally do this, I'll make it so fucking good that you'll come in those little panties twenty years from now at the mere mention or thought of my name."

She whines and throws her head back against the wall so hard that I check she's still conscious and she didn't hurt herself. It's been such a fun night, and I don't want it to end with a trip to the emergency room for stitches.

She grips the hem of my shirt and pulls me to her for a kiss. I know I shouldn't take her to bed since she's drunk, but I can't help but kiss her. Deep down, I want to taste her mouth. Her tongue. I want her to breathe me in until it'll annoy her that she didn't take advantage of having me when I first got here. I like her hands rubbing up and down my chest and the little moans she makes when she traces my abdominal muscles.

I push her against the wall and grind my pelvis against her, and she opens her legs until her legs straddle my thigh. "I want you, Wilder. I haven't been with someone in so long. Only one man, too. I'm starving. Everyone knows it and makes fun of me for it. Heather. Melissa. Hell, I know it and make fun of myself most of the time. Please," she begs.

I thrust my pelvis closer until she's pinned against the wall and move my lips to her ear again, placing a single kiss on her jaw. "No, baby. Not like this."

She leans her forehead against my chest and opens her legs wider around my thigh, getting herself into an unorthodox position and closing her own thighs around my leg. Confused, I cock my head and look at her. "Are you…?"

I pause with realization, and a laugh forms in my chest. I don't dare let it out.

Yep. She is.

She grinds against my thigh back and forth and around in a circle, obviously having found a sweet little spot on herself that really likes my right femur. She pulls me closer, until my face is against the wall, and she runs her hands under my shirt and up my back. I'm frozen by how good it feels. Her hands on my back. The cold drywall against my cheek. The smell of her hair right under my nose. All while her clit rubs against my leg.

She moves her hands to my ass, gripping both cheeks and pulling at them as she humps me to orgasm in her hallway. I'll never complain about it, but it's definitely the weirdest way I've ever made a woman come.

And I am making her come. I can tell by the way she speeds up the rhythm, grinding harder into me until I'm worried the fabric of her jeans will chafe her. Her lips are parted, and her eyes close in ecstasy, a stray chunk of hair flopping over her eyes.

"That's it, baby," I coo. "You want to get off? Let's get you off like this."

I cup the back of her neck and kiss her every place I can reach. I mouth her neck, nip at her ear, and trace my lips up and down her jaw as her skin flushes. Her body heat makes the temperature between us almost unbearable.

"Come on, Savannah. Come right there on my pants for me if that's what you want. I won't mind a little wet spot. I want to see what you look like when you break apart."

I watch in curiosity as she takes deep breaths and bites her lip, moaning my name as she shakes and trembles against me. She practically convulses through her orgasm, but she's fucking gorgeous.

In a way, I'm glad to see her like this in the fluorescent lights of her hallway. There's no darkness most women insist on the first time. There's no hiding her pleasure from me. She moans and shakes into her orgasm, her eyes squeezed shut, and I encourage her until the last tremble shakes out of her body.

She slumps against me, but I hold her steady. "Tired?" I ask, kissing the tip of her ear. "Let's get you to bed."

She mumbles something I can't understand, and I carry her to her room. I don't take her clothes off, but I slide her into her covers and pull them around her chin. I turn to leave, and she grabs my hand. "Don't go," she mumbles, already drifting off to sleep.

Decisions. I can practically see the devil on my right shoulder, telling me to get into bed with her, turn her over, and slide into her. Too bad for the devil that I have the angel on my left shoulder. It's not the time.

"Stay with me."

"I think it's best if I don't," I say, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair. "Maybe someday you'll let me in here sober. Until then, I have something I need to take care of in the shower."