Ring My Bell (The Runway Project: Spin-Off Novella) by Gianni Holmes

Author:Gianni Holmes [Holmes, Gianni]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Coco Nutz
Published: 2019-04-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Sheldon

I tried to stifle my disappointment when Sheldon turned in the direction of the hotel instead of his home. I was certain I wasn’t being very good at it though. For the past three nights, he had taken me out after his shift ended. He would wait for me in the lobby, we would go back to his place for him to shower and then we’d hit whatever spot he came up with.

Tonight, we had gone to Waffle House for a 1AM breakfast. To be fair to him, I enjoyed these dates. I ended up learning way more about him than was advisable for a one-night stand. I couldn’t even think of him as that anymore. He really was a likable guy who seemed sincere in his desire to ensure I wanted him versus just any available cock.

He had a point. I hadn’t cared before about who I slept with, only too happy to get my fix on for a night. I just didn’t understand why he even cared if I didn’t. Except now that I was getting to know him, I actually started to care which was dangerous. My flight back home was in another four days, and there was no sense in me leaving Alabama with a broken heart.

Still, it was hard to not like Jesse. He was a good guy, one who was quick to laugh at jokes, even when they were about himself, but he also knew when to be serious.

Staring out the window of his car, my cheeks heated as I thought about spilling my guts to him last night about my loser life. He had listened, and in the end, he had just taken my hands, kissed the back of them and declared that my luck was about to change.

I had snorted at him. “I fail to see how going home with blue balls every night is my luck changing.”

Sexual frustration was beginning to set in hard. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had sucked me off on that first night. I wanted more, but so far he was holding out, and I didn’t know how to beg. I thought I made it very obvious by our goodnight kisses that I wouldn’t complain if he wanted to follow me to my hotel room or take me home.

At the hotel, my frustration grew. I walked stiffly by him inside. I knew the drill by now. He would walk me to my room, we would share another steamy kiss that would leave me so hard it was painful, then he would walk away, wishing me a good night. Like I could have a good night when I was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and counting sheep until my hardon went away. Only to return when I thought about him rimming me or our last contact for the night.

At the elevator, I turned to him. “You don’t have to ride the elevator with me.”

He shrugged. “Why not? I want to?”

“Why?” I asked in frustration.

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