I really need to sober up.
I glanced around at the little cage he had made with his body and wondered if I could duck under him fast enough to get away. The warning in my head was getting louder, contrary to the reac
tion of my body. I was trapped, and I should have been afraid. I wanted to be afraid, but I wasn’t.
That’s the alcohol talking again.
I looked into his face and realized he was still waiting for my answer. Instead of giving him one, I found myself focusing on his lips at the same time I wetted my own.
His eyes darkened slightly as they narrowed. He shifted closer, and I swallowed as the idea of his body pressed against mine became reality. He paused, watching my face closely.
This was it. I knew exactly what he intended to do, and this was my opportunity to say no. This was my chance to just insist on going back inside and having the bartender—a guy I’d known for years—call me a cab instead being driven home by someone whose name I didn’t even know. Brick Wall might agree to give the bartender my keys while I waited for a ride.
I didn’t move. I didn’t protest. I licked my lips again and stared up at him as he slowly lowered his head to my level. I could have pressed against his chest with my hands, but I didn’t. My elbows bent as his chest came closer to mine, pressing the backs of my hands into my breasts. As he leaned closer, I moved my palms up to his shoulders and around his neck.
He tilted his head to the side, and his full lips met mine. All I could do was press the back of my head against the car door and let him as the feeling of being trapped by his body magnified. Again, I knew I should be frightened, but the gentle touch of his mouth on mine electrified me. Even as my chin quivered, I gripped the back of his head with my fingers to pull him closer.
I didn’t want a gentle kiss from him. It didn’t fit any more than the idea of him driving around in a Civic. A kiss from him should be hard, fast, passionate, and rough.
I opened my mouth slightly, and he immediately took the invitation with his tongue. I could taste beer along with mint, as if he’d been chewing gum recently. I gripped the back of his head harder, and he took the hint. The kiss deepened, quickened. His tongue went from exploring my mouth to invading it. He pushed my body against the car as he moved one of his thighs between mine, and I could feel something hard and straight through the jeans encasing my hip. My whole body throbbed but especially that spot between my legs where his thigh was pressed.
Inside my head, a voice joined the alarm and screamed at me to stop what I was doing. I didn’t listen to it. Instead, I moved my hips forward, increasing the pressure as he moved his hand down my side and returned the favor. My God, he felt huge. All those stupid “Is that a rabbit in your pocket?” jokes flooded through my head as he pulled back for a moment, taking my lower lip between his teeth and then turned his head the other way to kiss me again.
It was probably due to closing my eyes—maybe I should have gone with the ultimate in first-kiss faux pas and left them open—but every single drink I had consumed throughout the evening suddenly hit me at once. As his tongue entered my mouth again, I couldn’t hold back any more. I pulled my arms from around his neck and pushed his chest as hard as I could.
He stepped back, thank God, just in time for me to turn to the side and puke on the pavement. My stomached heaved, and I gripped the handle of the car door for balance with one hand and held my hair away from my face with the other.
Searching desperately for some object on the ground to allow me to focus and get control back, my vision blurred in the broken white lines between parking spaces. I started to fall forward, but a strong arm stopped me from hitting the pavement just as everything went dark.
And with that, my boring existence came to an end.
THREE
My head felt as if there were a troupe of dancing elephants practicing their next circus routine just behind my eyes. I wanted to groan, but I was sure the sound would pierce my eardrums, so I held it in. I ached everywhere, and I was in a horribly uncomfortable position. My pillow felt like a rock against my cheek. Even when I tightened my arm around it, it didn’t give way.
My pillow also seemed to have a distinctly musky scent to it, which I had never noticed before. In my groggy state, I wasn’t making much sense of it. The throbbing in my head urged me to go back to sleep, and I didn’t want to argue. I settled in and rubbed my cheek against the warm pillow, but something still wasn’t right.
The scent, the feeling of the pillow on my face—it just wasn’t right. My body ached along with my head, making lucid thoughts fleeting at best. I tightened my arms around the pillow, but it didn’t give way like it normally did.
I opened my eyes a crack and discovered my pillow was covered in tattoos.
What the hell?
I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat as I tried to regain enough consciousness to survey my surroundings.
I was on a bed with the sheets drawn most of the way up my body. The bed wasn’t mine. It wasn’t even a proper bed—just a pull-out mattress from a faded couch. I was wearing nothing but my bra and panties.
My arms and one leg were wrapped around a shirtless Brick Wall.
Oh my God, no…
What had I done?
With a little shriek, I pushed myself away from Brick Wall and tried to climb off the mattress. I was tangled up in the sheet, which was tucked under the far side of Brick Wall’s decorated torso, and for a moment, my legs were trapped under it, sending a wave of panic through me.
“Shit!”
Flailing my arms and legs until I could disengage from the fabric, I fell on my ass next to the makeshift bed.