Maybe I could just yell “gotcha” and then run out the back door.
Yes, that was a good plan.
But instead of kicking my drunk ass to the curb, Garrett took my empty beer bottle from my hand and dropped it in the trashcan as he led me out of the room and up the stairs.
I was going to do this.
I was going to have sex.
With Garrett freaking Bellows.
And I was going to enjoy it. I was going to have orgasms and slap his tight little ass until he made walking the next morning impossible.
This all made one hundred percent perfect sense as I followed him away from the party. Away from Maysie, who would be wondering where the hell I had gone. Away from any semblance of rational decision-making.
Because I was getting laid.
Yee-Haw!
5
I was being smothered! I literally could not get air in and out of my lungs. My brain was fuzzy. My head felt like it was being clenched in a vice and my eyes were having a hard time adjusting in the pitch-blackness.
Where the f**k was I?
I tried to sit up and realized that the reason I was having such a hard time drawing breath had to do with the heavy, sweaty male form lying prostrate over me.
And did I mention this male form was NAKED?
Oh God! I was NAKED!
I tried to roll from underneath the unidentified man but all I got for my efforts was to be squeezed even tighter against the hot, sweaty, NAKED guy.
I flopped back down on the bed, trying not to freak out at the feel of a very erect penis digging into my hip. Because it was quite obvious that I had engaged in drunken, monkey sex with my current bed partner.
And what was even more messed up was I had no idea who he was. My brain just couldn’t compute who I would have found myself in bed with.
Sober Riley wanted to kick Drunk Riley’s ass!
I couldn’t make out anything about him in the darkness. But his hair was tickling the hell out of my nose and I was trying really hard not to sneeze and blow snot all over him and thus making this awkward and mortifying experience all that much better.
The guy mumbled something in his sleep and he nuzzled his face into my neck. I was a rigid block of stone. I needed an escape plan.
Like two minutes ago.
But one thing was for sure. Whoever ambiguous sex dude was, he smelled good. We’re talking really, really good. Like musk and man and sort of outdoorsy. The smell twinged my memory. As though I should remember who smelled like a hot lumberjack.
But I couldn’t give a shit if he smelled like chocolate and vomited up hundred dollar bills, I had made a decision last night based on too much alcohol and a bad case of rebounditis. And that made my feelings about the current situation bordering on hysteria.
I glanced over at the alarm clock on the small bedside table. It claimed to be five-thirty in the morning. Entirely too early to be up under normal circumstances. But this was anything but normal. Because I was living in morning after hell. And that was about as far from my normal as one could get.
Mr. Stiffy rolled his hips, grinding his ever-present erection into my side again. And Riley Walker Junior, who had been happily slumbering between my legs, began to stir.
Go back to sleep, you wanton slut! I screamed silently at my insolent vagina. She and I were not in agreement as to the best way to handle this.
Because even though my brain couldn’t remember my night of lust, other parts of my body obviously had crystal clear memories of it.
Once mystery guy settled back into sleep, I started the futile process of trying to wiggle out from underneath him. My hands pressed into surprisingly smooth and hard skin and I flattened my palms against a seemingly muscular chest in an effort to budge the massive amounts of man pinning me to the bed.
Even in my moment of self-mortifying disgust, I was pleased that my bed partner appeared to have a nice body. Glad to know that even in my drunken psychosis I could still be called on to pick a guy with a nice set of abs.
Get a grip, Riley! As if his body matters when you’re trying to walk of shame out of here! I scolded myself harshly.
After a few minutes, I grudgingly realized I was stuck. My ass wasn’t going anywhere. And now I had to pee. My bladder was being pressed painfully by the guy’s weight.
Ah, f**k it!
“Hey!” I yelled, shoving the dude’s shoulder. He grunted and tightened his ironclad grip around my waist. If he didn’t get off me in about ten seconds, he was going to wake up in a very wet bed.
I leaned in close and moved some hair away from his ear, making a concerted effort to not notice how soft and silky it felt between my fingers.
“Wake up!” I yelled and then smacked the back of his head for good measure.
Yep, that did the trick.
The guy bolted straight up in bed. “What the f**k?” he growled and leaned over to flip on the lamp. And it was then that I got my first glimpse of my one-night stand.
“You have GOT to be freaking kidding me!” I screeched, hurriedly pulling up the sheet to cover my entirely too naked br**sts.
Garrett Bellows ran a hand through his shoulder length blond hair and blinked at me in confusion. “What the hell is your problem?” he asked, scrubbing his face with his hands before dropping back onto the bed. My eyes drifted down the length of his very toned and obnoxiously nice body until they stopped and honed in on a very prominent part of his anatomy that I only too recently felt pressed intimately against me. And Mr. Veined and Throbbing was at attention and on very prominent display. I swallowed thickly as images came swimming back through my hazy memory.
Garrett kissing me as though I had been the air he breathed. Garrett softly touching me an then laying me out on the bed I now found myself in. I closed my eyes and could see him over me as his weight pressed me into the mattress.
I shivered uncontrollably. Shit, shit, shit!
I opened my eyes and sneered at him, throwing a sheet over his lower half. “Cover yourself up, will you?” I snarled, leaning over the side of the bed and finding my shirt from the night before. I quickly pulled it over my head and felt better at having a barrier between Garrett and my skin.
Garrett had lowered his arm and was watching me. He didn’t look angry by my attitude. He didn’t appear to be hurt in any way by my obvious dismissal of him. This was both a relief and strangely disappointing.
He seemed only thoughtful. Curious even.
What the hell?
“Where are my pants?” I muttered under my breath. I got out of bed, trying not to die of total embarrassment as I flashed Garrett a pretty picture of my ass while I bent over to retrieve the rest of my discarded clothing. As I finished getting dressed, I grumbled, I cursed, and I otherwise fumed at my total idiocy.