collar is skin. Warm. Tingly under my fingers.
“Jesus, Taylor…” His voice isn’t angry anymore. Different. Begging. “Stop.”
“No. S’nice. Smellsgood.”
Want more warm so I climb onto his lap. Legs either side of hips. Nose in neck. Hands in hair. So good.
“For fuck’s sake.” He pushes me away, and I pout.
I look at his face. So handsome when he frowns.
“Taylor, stop. You’re drunk.”
I flop forward.
“Please,” I say, fitting myself against his body. “Juswanna sleep for a minute.”
Nuzzle into neck again. Breathe in warm boy-skin.
He’s tense underneath me, but I’m comfortable. He smells amazing.
“Hey, check it out!” Shhh, Jack. Too loud. “Taylor’s finally found a way to rattle the unflappable Holt. I think he’s blushing!”
More laughter.
I whisper, “Shh,” and my lips touch his neck. He groans, and I want to do it again.
“Avery, you asshole.” He’s talking softly, but it’s still too loud. I try to cover his mouth with my hand, but he pulls it away. “She drank too much and she’s going to be sick.”
“She’s fine, man. Look at that smile. She can’t get enough of you. I wouldn’t be complaining if I was in your shoes.”
I want everyone to stop talking. Just wanna sleep.
I moan and bury my head further into Holt’s neck. He squirms underneath me.
“Get her some water before I kick your fucking ass.” His chest vibrates against my boobs when he talks. Feels nice. Manly.
“Okay, okay. Christ, take a fucking pill.”
I snuggle down. “Stoptalkin. Shh. Need to sleep.”
“Taylor.” His voice is softer, less cranky. “You need to get off me. Please.”
“Donwanna. Feels good.” I put my hand inside his shirt. Nice muscles. So nice.
“Fuck, Taylor. For the love of God, stop, before I do something really fucking stupid.”
His hands are on my hips, trying to move me. I move but not off him. I press down.
I feel him against me. Hard. God. So hard.
He groans again, his face in my neck. “Jesus…”
My whole body burns. Aches. Wants.
I move against him.
He swears, and it’s all sexy. His lips are near my ear.
“Cassie, not like this.” He grabs my hips and stills me. “Not when you’re drunk and won’t remember it tomorrow. Stop.”
I’m burning, but he won’t let me move.
I slump. Defeated.
“Cassie, look at me.”
Eyes open.
Oh, not a good move.
Everything is swaying.
Feel seasick.
“Cassie?”
The world is tilting. He’s watching me. Concerned.
“Cassie?”
“Mnotfeelingsogood.”
Stand. Almost fall over. Hands on me. Strong. Burning.
“Shit, woman. Slow down.”
“Mfine.”
Pull away. Stagger down the hall.
The bathroom. Close door. Toilet too far away. Crawl to it.
Stomach tightens, mouth opens.
Brown liquid and corn chips explode out. It burns coming up like it did going down. Stomach heaves till there’s nothing left, and I’m tired. So tired.
I close my eyes. Swirls of black and gray are there, and I’m on a boat in a storm, swaying and tilting.
When I open my eyes, I’m being lifted out of a car and he’s carrying me. He has my keys, and as soon as the front door opens, I make a groaning sound. Then I’m in front of the toilet, vomiting while he holds my hair and rubs my back. I’m crying and gross while he’s shushing me and wiping my face with a cool washcloth.
Then he puts me in bed. The swirls of black wrap around me, and I’m gone.
I wake up, and everything hurts. The sun is too bright. A stabbing pain shoots straight through my eyeballs into my brain. My stomach is crampy, and my abs feel like I’ve done a thousand crunches.
I groan and pull my pillow over my head, but there are hands pulling it away. I crack open an eye to see Holt next to me, holding out water and Tylenol.
“Take these.” He talks quietly, but even that’s too loud for my pounding head.
I try to sit up, but it hurts too much. I roll onto my side and take the pills with the full glass of
“Jesus, Taylor…” His voice isn’t angry anymore. Different. Begging. “Stop.”
“No. S’nice. Smellsgood.”
Want more warm so I climb onto his lap. Legs either side of hips. Nose in neck. Hands in hair. So good.
“For fuck’s sake.” He pushes me away, and I pout.
I look at his face. So handsome when he frowns.
“Taylor, stop. You’re drunk.”
I flop forward.
“Please,” I say, fitting myself against his body. “Juswanna sleep for a minute.”
Nuzzle into neck again. Breathe in warm boy-skin.
He’s tense underneath me, but I’m comfortable. He smells amazing.
“Hey, check it out!” Shhh, Jack. Too loud. “Taylor’s finally found a way to rattle the unflappable Holt. I think he’s blushing!”
More laughter.
I whisper, “Shh,” and my lips touch his neck. He groans, and I want to do it again.
“Avery, you asshole.” He’s talking softly, but it’s still too loud. I try to cover his mouth with my hand, but he pulls it away. “She drank too much and she’s going to be sick.”
“She’s fine, man. Look at that smile. She can’t get enough of you. I wouldn’t be complaining if I was in your shoes.”
I want everyone to stop talking. Just wanna sleep.
I moan and bury my head further into Holt’s neck. He squirms underneath me.
“Get her some water before I kick your fucking ass.” His chest vibrates against my boobs when he talks. Feels nice. Manly.
“Okay, okay. Christ, take a fucking pill.”
I snuggle down. “Stoptalkin. Shh. Need to sleep.”
“Taylor.” His voice is softer, less cranky. “You need to get off me. Please.”
“Donwanna. Feels good.” I put my hand inside his shirt. Nice muscles. So nice.
“Fuck, Taylor. For the love of God, stop, before I do something really fucking stupid.”
His hands are on my hips, trying to move me. I move but not off him. I press down.
I feel him against me. Hard. God. So hard.
He groans again, his face in my neck. “Jesus…”
My whole body burns. Aches. Wants.
I move against him.
He swears, and it’s all sexy. His lips are near my ear.
“Cassie, not like this.” He grabs my hips and stills me. “Not when you’re drunk and won’t remember it tomorrow. Stop.”
I’m burning, but he won’t let me move.
I slump. Defeated.
“Cassie, look at me.”
Eyes open.
Oh, not a good move.
Everything is swaying.
Feel seasick.
“Cassie?”
The world is tilting. He’s watching me. Concerned.
“Cassie?”
“Mnotfeelingsogood.”
Stand. Almost fall over. Hands on me. Strong. Burning.
“Shit, woman. Slow down.”
“Mfine.”
Pull away. Stagger down the hall.
The bathroom. Close door. Toilet too far away. Crawl to it.
Stomach tightens, mouth opens.
Brown liquid and corn chips explode out. It burns coming up like it did going down. Stomach heaves till there’s nothing left, and I’m tired. So tired.
I close my eyes. Swirls of black and gray are there, and I’m on a boat in a storm, swaying and tilting.
When I open my eyes, I’m being lifted out of a car and he’s carrying me. He has my keys, and as soon as the front door opens, I make a groaning sound. Then I’m in front of the toilet, vomiting while he holds my hair and rubs my back. I’m crying and gross while he’s shushing me and wiping my face with a cool washcloth.
Then he puts me in bed. The swirls of black wrap around me, and I’m gone.
I wake up, and everything hurts. The sun is too bright. A stabbing pain shoots straight through my eyeballs into my brain. My stomach is crampy, and my abs feel like I’ve done a thousand crunches.
I groan and pull my pillow over my head, but there are hands pulling it away. I crack open an eye to see Holt next to me, holding out water and Tylenol.
“Take these.” He talks quietly, but even that’s too loud for my pounding head.
I try to sit up, but it hurts too much. I roll onto my side and take the pills with the full glass of
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