Sam Cruz's Infallible Guide to Getting Girls Part 14

I wind my fingers into her belt loops to pull her closer.

"Wait," she gasps.

I freeze.

Reality is about to douse me cold when she says, "stove," flicks it off, and lunges for my mouth.

Sweet Jeebus.

I pull her backwards out of the kitchen, in furious makeout mode. We make it to the bedroom with only a few smacks into walls and onto my bed.

Hooking up with her is like playing the home version of WrestleMania. There's rolling, tossing, name-calling, and the occasional threat. I'd put her in a headlock to get her back in line but she's just wormed her way on top of me.

Attila jumps off the bed to hide.

I start to pull off her s.h.i.+rt, but she pushes me back and takes it off herself revealing a skimpy pink bra. h.e.l.lo, pushups.

I fumble at my jeans b.u.t.ton but she stops me.

"Not yet."

Ally places my hands on her chest, on top of her bra.

Part of me continues to find this wrong but the rest of me has gagged it and stuffed it behind a very solid locked door.

She feels incredible. Must get these jeans off.

I quickly move my hands to tug at them. "I want to feel you," I tell her. "No clothes."

"Well, you'll have to wait," she retorts.

Since she's still straddling me, she pins me between her thighs, stopping me from doing anything.

"If you'd shut up already," I say as I try to dislodge her, "this would take a second and I'd be back."

"You're killing my momentum," she complains.

"What about me?"

Ally brushes me off. "Guys don't need momentum. Fifteen seconds of friction and you're good to go."

She puts my hands back on her rack but she's p.i.s.sed me off now, so I s.n.a.t.c.h them away and deliberately put them behind my head.

"You selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Ally accuses.

"Me." Right.

"I'm articulating my needs," she informs me.

"You're bullying," I shoot back. "No wonder you've been breaking beds. It's the vibrations from guys quaking in fear."

Ally gets off me in a huff. My pride wars with the sight of a topless girl in arm's reach. No contest.

Swiftly, I grab her back and push her onto the bed.

"Now," I say sternly, "if you play cooperatively like a good little girl, I'll make you happier than you've ever been."

Her disbelief is evident.

Not that I have anything to prove but... "Twice."

She looks intrigued. "That's a myth," she says loftily.

"That a dare?" I ask.

Ally grins. "Triple dare. Now lose the pants and get back here."

I aim to please. With a practiced move, my jeans. .h.i.t the ground.

f.u.c.king. Awesome. I stir sleepily and feel next to me for Ally. She's not there. I hear my front door close.

My eyes snap open. She's gone.

I can't believe it. Not only have I broken my cardinal rule about not sleeping with girls at my place, I've done it with Ally.

And done it in ways that might be illegal in places. She's given me the best s.e.xapalooza of my life and then left.

What the h.e.l.l? I'm not supposed to count in her stupid player strategy.

I pick Attila up from the foot of the bed and pet her, staring stunned and furious in the direction of my front door.

Attila purrs for a bit then spies a shoelace on the floor. She wriggles free, jumps down, and bats at the shoelace.

I roll over, unimpressed with all females. Human or otherwise.

Where's the respect from any of them?

Chapter sixteen.

I LOVE this whole hit the Big O and hit the road. Sam. Is. A. Genius.

With Jeremy, while he may not have liked any talking during the actual act, I always felt like afterward I had to stroke his stupid ego about how great he was.

Really, all I ever wanted to do was push him off me and maybe take a nap or go finish my homework.

Now, I can scale that crazy peak and then go spend quality time on other stuff. Like contemplating the big bang and all its delicious incarnations.

And, if I'm honest, maybe do a bit of freaking.

Because while that was unbelievably fantastic, mind-blowing amazingness, it was with Sam!

I get home and race up the stairs with a hurried wave to my mom. This is definitely not hanging out with family time. Besides, she has that scary mom sense that puts Spidey's to shame and I'd DIE if she realized what just happened between me and her darling boy.

I hop into the shower for a quick wash and some quality thinking time. Hot water helps me process.

On the one hand, it was phenomenal.

On the other hand, it was with my best friend who has been like a brother to me.

On the other hand, he is not actually a blood relative nor have we ever lived under the same roof so no legal, moral or societal laws were broken. And it definitely did not feel like kissing a sibling.

He was good. Like really good. My body is singing hallelujah at his finely honed skills. Yay, horndog. I thank all the sisters that went before me as practice. Sam knows his way around the female body just fine.

And now I'm standing here, head full of lather, soaping my left arm over and over again as I reminisce. Possibly drooling but we'll just call it shower spray.

I shake my head sharply to clear it.

I think I had become a middle aged married couple with Jeremy, and not the kind that still has great s.e.x even though they're old. More settled. Like concrete.

Now I've had so-so s.e.x with Matteo, quite good s.e.x with Adam, and words-fail-me s.e.x with Sam.

Both Adam and Sam are ongoing possibilities. Given I don't want to waste time and energy with more Matteo-grade encounters. I mean dominance is fine but only if there is something excellent in it for me. I think that instead of single hookups of a wide variety, I should go for continued ones from a smaller sample group. Who will be replaced should they fail to meet expected standards.

Known quality over random quant.i.ty. Plus this is about embodying biological truth, not becoming a ho.

So Adam stays on the list.

But Sam? We're already best friends. And with most normal guys, it'd be easy to confuse s.e.x and friends.h.i.+p with a real relations.h.i.+p.

Though that's the good part about knowing him so well. I'm not going to get hurt wasting my time wis.h.i.+ng he would be my boyfriend. Not that I want any boyfriend. But especially not him. Since he's absolutely incapable of it. I've seen the collateral damage he can cause. It's not pretty.

An involuntary and silly grin steals over my face at the memory of what we just did.

Sure is fun, though.

I finish rinsing off and shut off the tap. Decision made.

My intimate knowledge of Sam's psychological state means that I am absolutely free to keep getting naked with him.

Friends with benefits really is the best.

As I towel off, I wonder when it might be long enough to call Sam again for part two.

I decide tomorrow is good. What surprises me, though, is Sam's reaction. I'm totally convinced he's going to suggest a *your place or mine' (I knew him not sleeping with girls at his house was a lie) kind of time.

Instead, he suggests meeting at the diner and then going bowling. Like we always do.

I want to stomp my foot in frustration but if it weren't for Sam, I wouldn't be my s.h.i.+ny version 2.0 self, so I play nice and spend best friend time with him.

Plus wear a super low-cut s.h.i.+rt with maximum pus.h.i.+ng up of cleavage so he'll come to his senses and do me again. Because Sam is a visual boy and I aim to please.

So here we are. At the diner in our usual booth. There's a half played game of cards on the counter in front of Vic. Vic swivels slowly on his red leather and chrome stool as he contemplates his hand.

Behind the counter, Matt holds a metal canister of whipped cream above a cut-gla.s.s bowl of chocolate ice cream.

"Whipped cream?" he asks Sam.

"Naw, Sam's whipped enough," Vic jumps in.

Sam doesn't rise to the bait, which is unlike him.

"Careful Vic," he says calmly, "your queen is showing."

Vic checks his cards.

Matt places the bowl down between us, complete with two spoons.

Well, if I'm not having s.e.x, might as well have ice cream. My eyes roll back in delight at my first icy bite.

Sam watches me savor my dessert. At this moment, it's the best thing in the entire universe.

I suck on the spoon in what I hope he'll take as an invitation to other things I can do with my tongue.

Nothing.

"I'm in heaven," I tell him. "And as an added bonus, my mouth is really cold."

I scoop up some chocolate and put the spoon in his mouth. "Surprisingly good, huh?"

Sam s.h.i.+fts around in his seat. "Surprisingly," he agrees.

He puts on his serious voice. "We should talk about this."

Since he sounds like someone just died, I can guess how this chat is going to go down. I'm kind of shocked that he's going to pa.s.s on no-strings-attached s.e.x, but I get if it's too weird for him.

Sam is all about everything and everyone in neat, definable boxes. Yesterday afternoon with me probably short-circuited the poor boy's brain.

I'm not thrilled about where this is headed because the s.e.x was super great and easily accessible. And now I'm going to have to work at it and go out and find guys and make sure it all seems safe and work my Abra and sing the MI theme and school them in the proper way to work my body.

Honestly, I just want minimum effort for maximum return. What can I say? I'm a product of my culture.