Maysie rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine. I’ll bring you back in the morning to get it,” she promised. “Now just hang tight, I’ll be right back.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Just make sure that one minute doesn’t turn into twenty. Or I’m hunting you down,” I warned. Maysie grinned and left me alone.
Well not for long.
“This seat taken?”
The cushion sagged under the weight of my new couch buddy. I looked over and had to suppress a groan. Garrett Bellows popped the top off a beer and handed it to me. Hadn’t we already said enough to each other earlier this evening? What could top being labeled a pretentious stuck up? Not much I’m sure.
“You’re lookin’ a little thirsty, sweetheart,” he said before opening his own drink and taking a swig. I held the frosty bottle in my hand, wondering what sort of horrible thing I had done in a past life to warrant these repeated forms of torture.
I wobbled a bit; feeling the full weight of alcohol hit my system. My tongue felt heavy and my lips sort of numb. I thought about saying something nasty right out of the gate, just to get the upper hand. But his following words caught my drunk girl brain off guard.
“It’s all sort of ridiculous, right?” he asked, his voice soft and barely audible over the noise. I squinted at him, feeling my beer goggles slip firmly in place. Because right now, Garrett Bellows was perhaps the best looking guy I had ever seen. Even when I was a hundred percent sober, I could sort of appreciate his looks. There was nothing conventional about the guy who sat beside me.
He was the epitome of everything I chose to stay away from. But right now, with him leaning into me, my heart still feeling the after effects of a world class bludgeoning, I forgot about why he bugged the shit out of me.
“What’s ridiculous?” I asked, clueless to his point, my nose filled with a scent that was at once unfamiliar but also absurdly tantalizing. Garrett smelled like musk and man and it was a total turn on.
In point two seconds the twisty thread of undeniable attraction took hold. I wasn’t expecting the way my hormones took over all rational thought. This was new. And at the moment, I kind of liked it.
My eyes were drooping a bit and I was having a hard time focusing on what he was saying. Mostly because I was suddenly and inexplicably horny.
Garrett cocked his eyebrow at me; as though he were picking up on the crazy amount of pheromones I was suddenly slinging his way. He looked amused but there was a heat in his eyes that I knew was for me alone.
He leaned in further until his lips were next to my ear and the warmth of his breath teased the hair at my neck. “All of this.” He gestured to the party around us. “I get tired of it all, you know? Sometimes I wish these people would just disappear.”
His words surprised me. “Well, why do it then? Why continue to have these things if you don’t want to?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Garrett pulled back and I was irrationally bereft at the sudden space between us.
He drank the rest of his beer and promptly opened another one. I recognized in him the same drunken looseness that I was currently feeling. The pair of us were a hot mess. Two sad drunks, feeling sorry for ourselves.
He sighed and looked at me again. His blue eyes were red and unfocused but in my current state of inebriation, I swore that he saw me better than anyone else ever could. Yes, alcohol clearly unleashed my inner poet. The hyperbole going through my head was completely over the top.
“It’s what everyone expects of me. And I guess I’d rather have people around than be by myself,” Garrett replied finally. I found myself nodding, understanding all too well this need to live up to some sort of twisted expectation you had for yourself. He was making a scary sort of sense right now.
After that we sat together in silence, watching the partygoers and drinking more beer. Finally after what felt like an hour, but was most likely only a few minutes, Garrett got to his feet and held out his hand. I looked at it as though it were a snake about to bite me.
Garrett chuckled, obviously finding my response funny as hell. He inclined his head toward the staircase behind him. “Come on. Let’s get away from all of this. So we can hear ourselves think.” His suggestion seemed, in that moment, to be totally logical.
But I caught the underlying meaning behind his words. Garrett Bellows wanted to have sex.
With me.
Oh crap. Did I want to have sex with him?
I drank in the sight of his chest (he had lost his shirt totally by this point), which was ripped and toned. I wanted to wrap my hands around his biceps and squeeze with all my girlie might.
Oh yeah. I could imagine what the rest of him looked like. I could almost taste the anticipation of getting him naked on my tongue. The edges of a tattoo wrapped around his side, disappearing behind his back. It looked like words in a script that was impossible to read at this distance.
I wanted to read it. I wanted to lick it. I wanted to eat this man whole with a side of screw me senseless.
So yep, Riley Walker was having sex tonight.
Garrett’s eyes were hot pools of lust as they regarded me steadily and I felt myself flush. My inhibitions were noticeably absent and I for one was glad to see them go. Because I wanted to get my freak on with this fine specimen of male standing in front of me.
Looking up into his pretty blue eyes I put my hand in his and got unsteadily to my feet. I almost fell as I stood and Garrett’s arm was suddenly around my waist, holding me upright. I could feel his erection poking my thigh as he held me.
Time to take a ride on the Garrett Express all the way to Fuck Me town.
“Yeehaw!” I yelled a little louder than I intended to. People looked over at us and I should have been mortified by my scandalous lack of morality. But I was down with some One Night Stand action.
Garrett cocked his eyebrow and bit down on his lip as though he were trying not to laugh. He’d better not laugh at me, or I’d have to knee him in the balls. Which would be a pisser since I wanted to suck those sweet pieces of man meat into my mouth and make them my bitch.
“I think someone is ready to get ridden,” I purred. At least it sounded seductive in my own ears. Most likely I sounded more like Betty White than Jenna Jamison, but who cared.
Right now, I was Riley Walker Sex Goddess! And I wanted to play a few rounds of Mr. Wobbly Hides the Helmet!
Garrett shook his head and I wondered if he’d tell me to get lost. Crap, if this guy, of all people, rejected me, I think I’d have to put myself out of commission forever. Being told no by the guy with zero standards would be the worst insult imaginable.