Zombie Lovin'
she
turned her attention to the present.
    How late is it anyway ? She plopped her
head to the side, bringing her wrist eye level to check her watch.
Her liquor addled brain took several moments to process what lay on
the bed just beyond. Samantha gasped and scrambled backward, nearly
falling off the mattress.
    A naked man! Well, nude from the waist up at
least—the lower half was covered by the thick polyester comforter,
but she suspected if she peeked she’d see…. She lifted the edge and
there it was in all its girthy amazingness—the cock of her dreams.
Or at least the one she’d dreamed about last night. She dared to
scan the hotel room. Men’s clothes strewn about, tangled with hers
provided a screaming testament to those lost hours.
    She clutched the comforter to her naked
breasts. “Good grief, Samantha, what did you do?” Slapping a hand
over her mouth, she glanced to her bed companion. He didn’t
stir.
    What now ? Temptation suggested she
place a foot on the stranger’s backside and shove him onto the
floor. Listening to caution instead, she slid out of bed, dragging
the comforter along for protection. She reached a hand to his broad
back. Gathering her courage, prepared to run, she jabbed him with a
finger. He didn’t stir.
    Samantha cleared her raw throat with
emphasis. “Hey you, wake up.”
    No sign of life.
    Damn it . Anger overtaking nerves, she
snatched the nearest article of clothing—a white T-shirt that had
to belong to the mystery guest—and pulled it over her head. Its
spicy, musky scent tickled at the recesses of her mind, making her
tingle all over and her nipples harden. She might not remember last
night or the strange man, but her nerve endings did. So did the
tenderness in her pussy. Tapping a fingertip to her chin, she
considered her options. Sneak out, kick him to the curb, or
straddle his hips and ride him into the sunset—or sunrise in this
case.
    Redirecting her thoughts, she walked over and
grabbed his shoulder giving it a firm, though not entirely
confident, shake. This wasn’t her first one-nighter, though this
was the first time it’d caused amnesia. His unnaturally cold skin
made her stomach sink to her toes; something was wrong. Staring
wide eyed, she backed away from the bed. His handsome features
remained rigid; high cheekbones, lips just the right fullness, pale
thick brows over eyes she wondered over. They’re blue …her
dream teased her, and she dug for more of it, before shaking her
head. His chest didn’t rise and fall with the natural rhythm of
breathing.
    “There’s no way I spent the night with a dead
man. This is the hangover from hell.” She looked around the room
for her cell phone to call 911 then snatched her jeans from the
floor, searching the pockets. Her fumbling fingers dropped the
pants twice. It wasn’t there. A low buzz sounded from beneath the
bed, and she nearly jumped from her skin. The noise continued and
Samantha swallowed bitter fear, taking slow, baby steps toward the
bed with its morbid occupant, eyes on the floor, trying to block
out peripheral vision.
    “What is the dead guy going to do, jump up
and say boo?” She groped in the dark, dusty space, coming up in
triumph with the tiny black lifeline. Holding it up, she pushed a
button and the text lit up. She kept her back purposefully to the
corpse.
    How was the date ? He looked
hawt !
    Samantha’s fingers worked furiously over the
keypad. Who did I come to the hotel with ?
    Several seconds ticked by. She tapped a foot
against the plush carpet. An eerie quiet hung in the air, not even
the moans of neighbors getting freaky disturbed the morning.
Unusual for her stays in Vegas. She shifted foot to foot, the hairs
on her neck rising, her runaway imagination creating all sorts of
zombie apocalypse scenarios.
    “No more horror movies for you, Samantha,”
she muttered.
    What do u mean ? It’s the guy from
the club, I gotta go chica. Let’s talk l8tr .
    As usual, her best friend, Ella

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