Wrong (Wrong 1)

A hand comes to rest on my back. "You okay?"

I nod and Luke opens the passenger door and gets me settled before circling the car and getting behind the wheel. We drive in silence down Broad Street. It's just past 7:00 AM and traffic is picking up. The speeding up and slowing down are making me feel worse and I'm focused on not vomiting, so I don't immediately notice that Luke is taking me back to his Rittenhouse Square condo and not my dorm.

"I have class today," I protest as he pulls into the parking garage.

"Hopefully someone takes notes for you," Luke replies and pulls into his assigned parking space.

I open my mouth to argue, but I have to throw up again. I open the car door and make it to the trash can next to the elevator without a second to spare. Luke is there a moment later, hand on my back. The elevator opens and I assume he's pushed the button to call for it, but I realize it's someone exiting the elevator as Luke says, "Good morning, Mrs. Hudson." She replies and heels click away from us before I look up.

I am beyond humiliated. "I'm sorry," I say as Luke leads me into the empty elevator and pushes the button for the penthouse.

"For?"

"Everything. Specifically for looking like a drunk whore in front of your fancy neighbors."

"You don't look like a whore. Not one I'd bring home anyway."

I look at him and I know I have tears in my eyes about to fall but I'm trying to fight them.

"Hey, hey." He crosses the space between us in the elevator and wipes them away with his thumbs. "I'm kidding."

"Don't." I pull away and back up. "I smell disgusting."

He pulls me into him anyway and kisses the top of my head. "You do," he agrees. "But I don't care."

We take a shower together, but Luke does all the work, insisting on washing my hair and scrubbing me from head to toe. When we're done he hands me a toothbrush already loaded with a swipe of toothpaste and then returns with a glass of orange juice and two Advil before he tucks me under his covers, buck naked.

I think he's going to join me in bed but when I look up he's buttoning a crisp gray shirt. "You're going to work?" I try to keep the whine out of my voice.

"Yes, those of us not hungover have jobs to do." He loops a blue tie around his neck and begins twisting it into a perfect knot.

"Fine, leave me here and go to work. I'm sure you have an appointment calendar full of women waiting for you to knock them up." I guess I'm done trying to keep the whining to myself.

Luke just smirks. "Thank you for reminding me," he says as he opens the drawer beside the bed and riffles around. "I need to pick up condoms today."

"Why?" I'm instantly on alert. We haven't used condoms since Thanksgiving. Does he not trust me anymore after I blacked out last night?

"How many times have you thrown up today"—he pauses—"so far?"

"Three."

"Did you take your pill this morning?"

"Yes." I see where he's going with this. "That I've already thrown back up." I fluff the pillow and turn on my side, watching him. "You're perfect for me."

"Why is that?" He shrugs into his suit coat. "Is it the way my cock is just a little too big to fit into your tight pussy and I have to stretch you out every time we fuck?"

Even though I’m hungover, the blood rushes to my pussy and I squirm under the sheets and press my thighs tighter together.

"Sophie?"

"Huh, what?" I'm so focused on not sticking my hand under the covers to rub myself while he's still in the room I've missed what he was saying.

"Why am I perfect for you?" He leans over the bed and kisses my forehead before rising and sliding a watch over his wrist. He smiles at me as his gaze drops to the place where my legs meet under the covers. He knows exactly what distracted me.

"You're the only one more paranoid than I am about an unplanned pregnancy."

He pauses then for the briefest second and gnaws at his bottom lip. "Mrs. Gieger is coming today, so put some clothes on if you get out of bed. I've already informed her to skip the bedroom if you're still sleeping."

"I don't have any clothes here."

"You don't need clothes to sleep off your hangover and masturbate."

"Luke!" I hide my face behind my hands, which is apparently funny because he laughs.

"I've seen every last inch of you, Sophie. I've had your legs spread in stirrups with my hand in your pussy and you're embarrassed that I know damn well you're dying for me to leave so you can slide your hand under the covers and rub your clit until you come?"

"Yes," I mumble, face still behind my hands.

"Okay," Luke replies. "Do you want me to bring home a few supplies from the hospital so we can play kinky doctor tonight?"

Damn him. "Uh-huh," I mutter, still not looking at him.

"Use your words, Sophie, I need to hear you say it."

"Yes!" I sit up with the sheet clutched to my chest. "Yes, I want that." I throw a pillow at him. "Now go away."

Luke is laughing at me again as he turns to exit the bedroom.

"Wait."

He stops and turns back, halfway to the door. He raises an eyebrow in question.

"You're not mad?"

His jaw clenches. "I'm furious."

"Oh."

"But we're okay, Sophie. As long as you're safe and I know where you are, we're okay."

I nod.

"I'd like to turn you over my knee and spank the shit out of you, and before you get excited, I don't mean that erotically."

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"I know," he replies.

* * *

Mrs. Gieger has washed and dried my clothing and I'm sitting in Luke's den when I hear him enter the condo that evening. He's hanging his coat in the front closet when I reach him. There's a black medical bag at his feet. I stop short and stare at it, my pussy clenching involuntarily. Clearing my throat, I ask Luke how his day was.

"Great," he responds. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," I agree. My eyes dart to the bag.

Luke ignores the bag and steps around it to embrace me. "Should we go out to dinner?"