Read Online She's With Me by Vanessa Cardui - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Vanessa Cardui
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drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon. She was horny and furious in about equal measure. The douchebag with the thick glasses leering at them from the next table was really not helping.
"Hey, Meeka," said Izzy, "undo your jacket."
"Huh?" But Meeka's fingers had automatically gone for the top button before she said it. If only Jake were more like that, ha.
"Just... indulge me, all right?"
Meeka shrugged, an impressive sight even with the jacket closed. Izzy liked men, herself—except for when she'd rather take a meat cleaver to the entire gender—but Meeka's breasts didn't let a little thing like sexual orientation stop them. They were a force of nature. Izzy could practically measure the rise in the douchebag's temperature for every inch of ribbed red sweater that Meeka exposed.
Meeka was blushing, too, and absently biting her lip the way she did when she was nervous or concentrating on something, but she didn't seem to notice the douchebag's scrutiny. She looked at Izzy, sidelong, like she was... waiting for something?
Izzy nodded, and Meeka lowered her eyes, went as red as her sweater, and grinned, dimples breaking out in both cheeks.
"Take the jacket off," said Izzy, "slowly." She had to suppress the urge to start squirming on her own barstool. It was frustration at the cancellation of tonight's plans, it must be, but the way Meeka did just as she was told was a rush like... well, like sex. Which made no sense because they hadn't touched or anything, and yeah, Meeka looked great in that sweater, but Izzy had seen her in it a dozen times and it hadn't made her feel like this before. Girls didn't really do it for her.
But the way conversation stopped two tables away as Meeka peeled out of the jacket was definitely doing something for Izzy.
Meeka wasn't looking at Izzy now, or anywhere but the scratched surface of the bar, but her smile hadn't entirely faded, and her toes were doing a little tap dance in the air.It was super cute, and Izzy didn't know what to do about that, so she tried to break the spell by saying, "Hey. Are you with me?"
Meeka gave a shaky little laugh and looked up. "Sorry."
"Did you know every guy in here is staring at you?" said Izzy.
Meeka shrugged. Izzy was pretty sure she heard shattering glass from the other end of the bar. "Yeah, it happens," said Meeka.
Since Meeka had no interest in men as such— "Does it bother you?" said Izzy, suddenly contrite.
"Well..." Meeka's toes did the shuffle again. "Sometimes? I mean, it can feel a little, um, not-safe." Then she turned the full force of her big brown eyes and dimpled smile on Izzy. "But I'm with you, right?"
"Right," Izzy agreed. A smile started to spread on her own face. It felt... predatory. She directed it around at the gaping bar patrons, her reservations forgotten for the moment, an incredible feeling of power in their place. She's with me.
"Here, you haven't touched your... thing." Izzy slid the pastel confection in the Martini glass towards Meeka. "Drink up."
Izzy rested her chin in her hand and waited until Meeka had tilted the glass up and taken a mouthful, but not swallowed. "Good girl," she said.
Meeka sputtered. The drink dribbled down her front. Next time Izzy would get her to wear a white T-shirt. "My God, Izzy."
"What?" said Izzy innocently.
Meeka looked down, gnawing at her lower lip like she was about to bite through it, wiggling her butt on her barstool in a way that was likely to give someone a heart attack. She didn't say anything.
"Sorry." Izzy flashed a not-sorry smile that was wasted on Meeka, who still wasn't looking at it. "Go ahead and finish your drink. I won't interrupt you this time."
Meeka's hand was shaking when she lifted her glass. She threw her head back and chugged rather than sipped; it would have been a waste of a whatever-it-was-tini if that weren't a contradiction in terms. She set the empty glass down, face and neck flushed, eyes shining, lips wet and stretched out in a cockeyed grin. Izzy felt the
"Hey, Meeka," said Izzy, "undo your jacket."
"Huh?" But Meeka's fingers had automatically gone for the top button before she said it. If only Jake were more like that, ha.
"Just... indulge me, all right?"
Meeka shrugged, an impressive sight even with the jacket closed. Izzy liked men, herself—except for when she'd rather take a meat cleaver to the entire gender—but Meeka's breasts didn't let a little thing like sexual orientation stop them. They were a force of nature. Izzy could practically measure the rise in the douchebag's temperature for every inch of ribbed red sweater that Meeka exposed.
Meeka was blushing, too, and absently biting her lip the way she did when she was nervous or concentrating on something, but she didn't seem to notice the douchebag's scrutiny. She looked at Izzy, sidelong, like she was... waiting for something?
Izzy nodded, and Meeka lowered her eyes, went as red as her sweater, and grinned, dimples breaking out in both cheeks.
"Take the jacket off," said Izzy, "slowly." She had to suppress the urge to start squirming on her own barstool. It was frustration at the cancellation of tonight's plans, it must be, but the way Meeka did just as she was told was a rush like... well, like sex. Which made no sense because they hadn't touched or anything, and yeah, Meeka looked great in that sweater, but Izzy had seen her in it a dozen times and it hadn't made her feel like this before. Girls didn't really do it for her.
But the way conversation stopped two tables away as Meeka peeled out of the jacket was definitely doing something for Izzy.
Meeka wasn't looking at Izzy now, or anywhere but the scratched surface of the bar, but her smile hadn't entirely faded, and her toes were doing a little tap dance in the air.It was super cute, and Izzy didn't know what to do about that, so she tried to break the spell by saying, "Hey. Are you with me?"
Meeka gave a shaky little laugh and looked up. "Sorry."
"Did you know every guy in here is staring at you?" said Izzy.
Meeka shrugged. Izzy was pretty sure she heard shattering glass from the other end of the bar. "Yeah, it happens," said Meeka.
Since Meeka had no interest in men as such— "Does it bother you?" said Izzy, suddenly contrite.
"Well..." Meeka's toes did the shuffle again. "Sometimes? I mean, it can feel a little, um, not-safe." Then she turned the full force of her big brown eyes and dimpled smile on Izzy. "But I'm with you, right?"
"Right," Izzy agreed. A smile started to spread on her own face. It felt... predatory. She directed it around at the gaping bar patrons, her reservations forgotten for the moment, an incredible feeling of power in their place. She's with me.
"Here, you haven't touched your... thing." Izzy slid the pastel confection in the Martini glass towards Meeka. "Drink up."
Izzy rested her chin in her hand and waited until Meeka had tilted the glass up and taken a mouthful, but not swallowed. "Good girl," she said.
Meeka sputtered. The drink dribbled down her front. Next time Izzy would get her to wear a white T-shirt. "My God, Izzy."
"What?" said Izzy innocently.
Meeka looked down, gnawing at her lower lip like she was about to bite through it, wiggling her butt on her barstool in a way that was likely to give someone a heart attack. She didn't say anything.
"Sorry." Izzy flashed a not-sorry smile that was wasted on Meeka, who still wasn't looking at it. "Go ahead and finish your drink. I won't interrupt you this time."
Meeka's hand was shaking when she lifted her glass. She threw her head back and chugged rather than sipped; it would have been a waste of a whatever-it-was-tini if that weren't a contradiction in terms. She set the empty glass down, face and neck flushed, eyes shining, lips wet and stretched out in a cockeyed grin. Izzy felt the
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