Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
If only that hot guy wasn’t Noah.
I creep to the other side of my room and get clean underwear, leggings, and a sweatshirt. I go into the hall to get dressed, then sneak into the living room.
My pajama pants are on the couch. So are Noah’s boxers. Well, I guess that answers where I got the rug burns. The bottle of tequila is on its side, and it’s empty. My stomach churns just looking at it.
The shot glasses are on the floor, and there is a stain on the coffee table from spilled booze. I grab the bottle, glasses, and my pants. I find my shirt when I go into the kitchen. The shock is leaving and I’m feeling like complete and total shit from being hungover as fuck.
I force myself to drink an entire glass of water before I fire up the coffee pot. I need to eat something, and I’m starving and nauseous at the same time. I drink another glass of water, have to pee again already, then finally pour a cup of coffee.
I bring it to my face and inhale, the aroma instantly soothing my nerves. There is almost nothing a good cup of coffee can’t solve.
Almost.
I mix in just a bit of creamer and grab the bag of bread that was left out on the counter from last night. I think I made sandwiches. Knowing I should eat something, I put two pieces of bread in the toaster and get out the butter. That seems safe, and will put something other than bile and leftover tequila in my stomach.
I feed the dogs, get my toast, then sit at the table carefully eating, still unable to remember exactly went down last night, other than Noah. On me. Because that’s how I’ve imagined it.
I squeeze my eyes shut. No. That wasn’t a tiny bit of desire that tingled my lady bits when I imagine his bearded face between my thighs, skin getting red from the burn of his facial hair.
Gah, no, just no!
I take another sip of coffee and let out a steadying breath. I might not remember what happened, but I’m sure I enjoyed it.
And I’m allowed to.
I lean back in the chair and take a few more sips of coffee, reminding myself what I did was more than okay, and I’m actually feeling a bit empowered. Everything is fine. It was one night. We never have to think about this again.
And I’m definitely no prude.
“Hey, baby,” Noah says, his voice thick with sleep. I turn, almost having forgotten he’s here, and quickly close my eyes. He’s naked, standing in the threshold of the kitchen. His hair is a rumbled mess, and there are pillow creases on his face.
He does not look adorable. I am not feeling turned on by the sight of his bare skin. I do not want to gaze at his glorious body, tattoos and muscles and that stupid V that guides my eyes to his perfect cock.
“I’m not your baby,” I say and stand to let the dogs out.
“Well you were last night.”
My hand freezes on the doorknob. Dammit. He remembers. “Well, I, uh…” I stumble over my words. Vader paws at the door. I shake myself and let both dogs out, then turn to face Noah.
Shit, I looked right at his package. And shit, it looks nice. Even now when it’s just hanging in front of him. I hold up my hand.
“Put some clothes on,” I say and Noah laughs. “I’m serious, Noah.”
“Fine, fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”
I force myself to look into his eyes. “We shouldn’t have done … whatever it is we did.”
“Ah, shit, you don’t remember either?” He walks through the kitchen—still bare-ass naked—and sits at my seat, eating my leftover toast. “I was hoping you’d at least tell me I rocked your world.”
I cross my arms. I’m able to look at him now. I can pretend he has pants on.
“No, I don’t remember. And let’s keep it that way, okay?”
He laughs again, then shakes his head like it hits him all at once. “Fuck.”
“You can say that again.”
“Fuck.” He’s looking a little sick now. Is the thought of sleeping with me that repulsive? I know I haven’t shaved my bikini line in a few, uh, days? Weeks? Hell if I know. Nobody else was supposed to see it but me. “Seriously. Fuck. I fucked you.”
Then I know exactly what he’s thinking. He slept with his best friend’s little sister.
“This never happened,” I say.
Noah nods and picks up my coffee. Oh hell no. I rush over and take it from him, sloshing some down the side. “Get your own cup.”
I regret my words as soon as he gets up and turns around, and I’m looking right at his tight ass. That ass I probably gripped while he thrusted in and out of me.