Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Nah, they came to me.”
“God, you’re such a slut.”
“A slut that won’t sleep with friends,” he said with a pseudo-serious glare.
I gasped, putting my hand to my chest. “Poor, King. He must be heartbroken.”
“He tries harder than you to get in my pants.”
“Hmmm. Maybe we should team up to break you,” I threatened.
“Psh. If we all got together, he wouldn’t know how to handle us.”
“This is a valid point. We are crazy.”
His mouth pursed, and brows pinched.
“Crazy awesome,” I exclaimed, raising my hand.
Not one to disappoint and always knowing what I needed, he slapped my hand. I loved that he didn’t question it. I love that he played along and enjoyed the games as much as me.
Still laughing, we made our way to the bar for another round, setting out to prove just how crazy we could be.
Chapter Five
Austin
I didn’t move a muscle. I wasn’t sure I could. Everything ached. Things I didn’t even know could ache—ached. Drums—no. What was worse than drums? The whole damn Tran-Siberian Orchestra wreaked havoc in my head. The throbbing so intense, I couldn’t even piece together the night or where the hell I was.
“Fuck.” The soft whimper came from behind me.
Dread washed over my skin, leaving me to wonder who I brought home. Then the voice registered, and I realized I at least made it back with Rae. With superhuman effort and a groan that even hurt, I rolled to my back.
“What the fuck?” I wasn’t even sure what I was questioning. How I could hurt so much? What the hell happened after we decided to move on to straight shots? How did we even get back here? “How much vodka did we have?”
As if a reminder of my mistakes, my head pulsed on the verge of exploding. I dug my fingers into my temples in a fruitless effort to ease the pain.
“Too much. Not enough. I don’t even know,” she answered, her groggy voice sounding as rough as I felt.
She rolled to her back, and we both stared at the ceiling, side-by-side, wondering what the hell happened. I was hoping to maybe pass back out and wake up feeling more human, but nature called.
“I got to piss.”
“So, sexy,” Rae deadpanned.
“I turn on the extra charm just for you.”
“Lucky me.”
I rolled out of bed and watched her bat her lashes, her makeup still perfectly in place, framed by her arms stretched over her head, laying across the dark spread of her hair. Although, my attention shifted quickly when I got up, causing the sheet to shift, baring part of her full breast and the most perfect rosy nipple.
Like Pavlov’s dog, my mouth watered at the sight. My muscles tightened, fighting the immediate urge to crawl back in bed and pull the hardened tip into my mouth. I stood frozen, waiting for Rae to figure out what had me so entranced, except her attention dropped down my bare chest, and it was only as my cock began to harden that I noticed the breeze against the sensitive skin. Looking down, I found my half-hard dick hanging between my legs.
“Holy shit,” Rae breathed in awe.
“Holy shit,” I shouted, snatching an extra blanket to wrap around myself. Thankfully, Rae did the same because fuck, it was hard to focus with her tits out. But then it left me with enough attention to start considering everything that could have happened.
Did we sleep together?
Fuck. The thought of sleeping with Rae filled me with a million conflicting emotions, but most of all, dread—for what it could do to our relationship or that I finally had her, and I couldn’t even remember it. Feeling unsteady on my feet, I stood still and looked around the room for any signs of sex. No condom wrappers. No signs of things being knocked over. No trail of clothes leading from the door in our urgency to get to each other.
No. I shook my head. We didn’t sleep together. My mind wouldn’t let me forget that—no matter how much alcohol I had.
“Austin, what the fuck is that?” Rae asked, more serious than I’d ever heard her before. She pointed her finger accusingly to where I gripped the sheet, and a flash of gold caught my eye. As if in slow motion, I raised my left hand. My head swam, the single line of gold around my ring finger blurring. A pinch started in my chest and bloomed to pressure building inside and out until I was sure I’d pass out.
It was her whimper that pulled me out of the haze to find her sitting on the bed, the sheet clutched to her chest with her right hand, as she stared at her left, taking in a gold band that matched mine. Time stood still, both of us clinging to modesty while reality set in.
“We did not just get married in Vegas,” she whispered, almost like she was pleading with me to make it true.