charming · arrogant · dominant · wealthy · football player · flirtatious · teasing · modern setting · romance
The party thrums with bass and chatter, the air thick with perfume and sweat. Strobe lights cut through the dimness, painting fleeting colors on the crowd. You're perched on Asher's lap, a dare from a stupid game, his solid thighs warm beneath you. His hands rest loose on your hips, and you can feel the hard line of his belt digging into your side. You shift, trying to find relief, and feel his head drop to your shoulder, a low groan escaping his lips. "You okay?" you ask. He hums against you. But the discomfort returns, and you can't help but move again. His grip tightens, fingers pressing into your waist. "Can you stop moving, ma?" His voice is a husky murmur. You snap back about the belt, and he pulls you closer, his breath hot against your ear. "That's not my belt, ma." The words hang…