“Nice save.” I wave my hand in front of me.
“You realize you don’t have to swallow. You could spit it out in the sink if you want. In fact, I recommend it. That is definitely safer.”
“Are you kidding? Everyone knows that spitters are quitters.” I take a moment to sneer at him, and his mouth falls open at the double entendre.
And being the wily girl I am, I take advantage of his momentary paralysis and start chugging glass after glass.
“GAH!” I wrap my hand around my throat and point to the third from the last. “I think I’m going to die now,” I whisper as the room gives a gentle spin, and I lean against the counter and go with the motion.
Shep downs the rest of the glasses, getting all the good honey that’s settled to the bottom for himself. “Whiskey for the win.” He pours another few inches into his glass and knocks it back as if it was water before hissing through his teeth, “That’s the one.”
“Does that mean I’m gettin’ an A?” My words slur slightly, and it feels as if my mouth is filled with whiskey-soaked cotton. I try my best to straighten and end up with my hands flat against his chest in an effort to remain upright.
A low growl comes from him. “All right, party’s over. You’re toasted.”
“Nope.” I latch my hands up over his shoulders as the floor bounces beneath my feet. “Not drunk. I’m totally totes, tacos, and toast.” I wrinkle my nose a moment. “Wait, that didn’t come out right.”
He shakes his head in agreement as those adorable dimples dig in. That shadowed stubble over his cheeks calls for me to touch it so I do.
“I think you better kiss me.”
Shep winces as if I threatened to slap him. “I’m not kissing you, Serena. I’m getting you to bed.”
“Bed!” I hike an arm in the air as if toasting the occasion. There’s that word again. I’m sensing a theme. “You move fast, Professor Collins.” I run my finger along his jawline and feel the burn right down to my stomach. “But you forgot the honey,” I say, trying to navigate us back, but Shep steers me steady over toward the door.
“No honey for you tonight,” he rumbles right over my ear, his hot breath searing the side of my face, and I die a thousand orgasmic deaths on the inside.
“Oh my God.” I quiver through it, right there in his arms, and dig my heels in as he gets close to giving me the boot. “No way, no how!We has to case the discuss!”
Shep pulls back and frowns, taking a moment to brush the hair off my forehead. “All right, Peacock Princess. You win.” He lands me on the sofa, and I dig my nails in and pull him down on top of me. “Whoa.” His chest rumbles with a laugh, and my entire body vibrates along with it.
My eyes seal shut, and it feels like heaven. “Come here.” I scoop his head up like a bowling ball and do my best to crash his mouth over mine. For a brief moment, his lips touch down against my own, and it’s as if the world exhales for the first time since the last time we did exactly this.
A hard groan comes from me. “Yes, yes,yes,” I chant as he struggles to get away. “Would you just behave for a minute and kiss me already?”
“No, no, no.” He chuckles as if it were hilarious. “You reek of booze and desperation. Never a good combo.”
“I’m boozy.” A fountain of giggles stream from me. “That’s right. You don’t want to kiss me. You think I’m—” An entire jumble of words tumble from my lips as I drift off to sweet, glorious sleep.
All night I dream of Jarhead McDean chasing me around Hollow Brook with a hatchet.
So much for our hot honey renaissance.
Shepherd
Adull moan comes from the sofa just as I land a tray full of pancakes, black coffee, and a glass of fresh squeezed O.J. down onto the coffee table.
Serena stretches to life with that wild hair of hers cascading over the edge of the couch like a crimson waterfall. I would’ve let her have the bed, but it felt wrong on an intrinsic level. Hell, all of this feels wrong on an intrinsic level. What the heck was I thinking bringing her back to my place? Taking her to a liquor store and buying the place out? It’s clear I’ve lost my mind. Good thing I don’t plan on heading back to Briggs in the fall. I’m sure they’ve already put a scholastic APB out on me.
Her lashes flutter, and I marvel at how long they are. Llama lashes. Beautiful—beautiful, thick, dark lashes. Serena has always held a unique stamp of beauty all her own. There’s something larger than life about her—that hair, that face, that body—and let’s not forget the fact she’s mouthy. She’s a real-life Jessica Rabbit with an attitude of a perennially pissed off thirteen-year-old.
Her lids crack my way. “Oh,” she moans, and something about that drugged look on her face, the way her voice hit that perfect octave sends my boxers twitching. Crap. I take a seat near her feet as she comes to and wait for the onslaught. “Oh God.” She struggles to sit up and quickly takes the place in. “I’m here! I’mhere?” She picks up the pillow I set underneath her head last night and attempts to smother herself with it. A series of moans and garbled expletives emit from her.
“Hey.” I give her knee a quick jostle. “It’s okay. I texted your roommate and let her know you were safe.”
She pulls the pillow down to her chest, rumpling her hair in the process, and there’s something decidedly adorable about her. “You did?”
“Yup. Your phone kept going off, and I tried to get you to tell her you were still breathing, but you asked me to text her and pretend I was you.”
