She didn’t know heaven came in the form of bristles and mint, but that morning, it did. It was even better than the shower, which had been ruined by the uh- love bite she found. Right at the top of her left thigh. Compliments of the old ball and chain.
What the hell have I got myself into?
For that matter, where were Jasmine and Mandy? Apparently, they couldn’t be bothered with playing a wingman and keeping her from making life altering horrible decisions. She remembered, in her piece of crap broken memory bank, going out with them the night before. They’d been all giggle sand girlish excitement at a weekend away.
To forget Rob. Get over Rob. Fuck Rob. She’d show Rob.
Yeah, she sure showed him alright. Nothing like getting over your cheating scumbag of an ex and the embarrassment of a lifetime like plunging headlong into another.
A loud furious pounding at the bathroom door pulled June out of her morose thoughts and her sorry attempts at trying to recall what the hell happened the night before. A deep angry voice drifted through the heavy steel.
“You’re using my toothbrush in there! I know you are! Stop that! That was mine!”
She rolled her eyes and kept scrubbing her pearly whites. She made a big production of making sure she did an excellent job before she spat into the sink and rinsed the toothbrush. Just to piss off the bastard a little more, because weren’t all wives good for it, she pushed the soaking wet toothbrush back into the package and tucked it back into his shaving kit.
June swiped a hand through the fog on the mirror, which was sure to leave a print. She gave herself a once over. God, she looked awful. She had black circles smudged under eyes that looked far too exhausted. She tried to smile at herself in an attempt to look better, but it fell flat. Even her skin was far too pale. She looked how she felt. Tired and hungover. And in one hell of a screwed-up mess.
With a long exhale, June secured the white fluffy towel across her body, making sure all the bits were covered, bits that unnervingly enough, had already been seen and likely tasted by the Neanderthal out there, and unlocked the door.
She stared down a rather angry, full on cave man who had thankfully donned a pair of boxers. Not that it did anything to hide the best parts of him. He was well over six feet and all muscle. Screw the car, he could easily bench press her. He was all muscle. Layers and layers of muscle. She even liked the way his veins stood out against his bronzed skin. All that ashy blonde hair, hair she wanted to brush her hands through, didn’t hurt either. And those eyes… eyes that smouldered with a fury that only made them hellabeautiful- yeah, certainly didn’t hurt his cause at all.
Why couldn’t the guy just look like the troll he was right? Right. Because evil comes in many guises.
“You used my toothbrush!” The caveman stalked into the bathroom and picked up the plastic package. His mouth fell open in angry amazement.
“Yeah? I wouldn’t have if it was used. Sorry. And by sorry, I mean not sorry.” She shrugged. “I think we have more pressing matters than who used what toothbrush. I only did it once. I think it’s still salvageable. Being that you probably had your tongue down my throat I don’t see what the problem is anyway.”
The beast growled at her. “You don’t see what the problem is? You came in here, had a shower, dug in my things and used my toothbrush and you don’t see what the problem is?”
Yup. Full on caveman. “I also used your deodorant,” she admitted. His face turned an angry shade of red. “Holy, possessive of the products much?”
“Stop!” He slammed the toothbrush back into his shaving kit. “I- I have to take a piss. Then I’m going to have a cold fucking shower and hopefully by the time I’m out I’ll remember what happened last night and I’ll have come up with a solution to our current situation.”
“Hmm. No need to get so angry,” she goaded. “Or do you also have those issues? Should I add it to your list of flaws? Pervert, judgmental asshole, rage machine?” For some reason, it was way too much fun. And he’s epically sexy when he’s angry. She shouldn’t have wanted to be turned on. She told herself she didn’t want to be turned on. That the peaking of her nipples and the burn between her legs was just… wrong. She just couldn’t help it. She’d never been so close to a man who looked like him and damn. Part of her wanted to savor the sexiness while she could. Part of her liked goading him because it was just fun and part of her, the evil, sinful part, acknowledged that it had been fourteen million years since she last felt sexy herself.