A few silent minutes passed before she spoke again. “Thanks, Hound. It feels weird to call you that. What’s your real name?”
“Carson.”
“That fits. You look like a Carson.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She patted my hand. “Thanks, Carson. Thanks for being here for me.”
Her appreciation made me feel good even while my raging hard-on berated me for my stupidity. Having her in my arms was worth the suffering. Even when the little vixen wiggled her ass against me. I had to remind her to behave once again.
Eventually her breathing evened out and soft snores told me she was out cold. My spine wasn’t happy about my position, but there was no way in hell I was moving. Sporting a serious case of wood with Mila in my arms, I finally drifted off to sleep.
15
Mila
HOUND WAS IN bed with me. As his warm breath tickled my neck and ear, last night’s events played through my mind. I’d chased Levi’s harsh words with tequila. A copious amount of tequila at that. I was having myself a lonely, drunken pity party when Hound showed up looking like a snack. Ever thoughtful, he brought food just in time to keep me from morphing into the worm at the bottom of the bottle.
I tried to seduce him, but he was annoyingly resistant to my advances.
“You’re drunk.”
His eyes had been full of dogged determination when he muttered those words, damning my libido and irritating the hell out of me. I mean, I was drunk, but not fuck-a-loser-and-regret-your-life-choices kind of drunk. No, I’d been more like cast-off-restraints-and-do-the-man-you’ve-been-wanting-to-do drunk. Unfortunately, Hound hadn’t been able to tell the difference.
He didn’t fuck me, but he stayed. The heat of his hard front pressed against my back, reminding me of his presence. The corresponding heat between my legs made it clear I still wanted him. Of course, after last night’s tequila and water consumption, I needed to use the toilet before I even thought about scratching that itch. And my god, tequila breath was the worst. It didn’t matter that I’d brushed my teeth the previous night, my mouth still tasted like something had crawled in there and died. Like a week ago. I was in danger of burning my own nose hairs if I didn’t do something about it.
Gently extracting myself from between his arms, I slid out of bed. The change in elevation made my head pound as bile rose in the back of my throat. Thankfully, I had a strong stomach. Swallowing, I fought through the pain and tip-toed across the floor. Putting on my robe and grabbing my toiletry bag, I paused in the doorway and turned back to look at Hound.
No. Carson.
A sexy name for a sexy guy. With a day’s worth of beard growth, and wearing jeans and a tight black T-shirt, he was a sight to behold. Silently promising I’d be back to deal with him, I hurried out the door and down the hall to the bathroom to take care of business.
Bladder empty, teeth brushed, ibuprofen and more water consumed, I returned to find Carson sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on his boots.
“What are you doing?” I asked, unable to hide my disappointment as I removed my robe and tossed it on the loveseat.
He looked at me. I hadn’t changed out of the shirt and panties I’d slept in. My appearance was far from decent, and his eyes widened before he quickly looked away. “I should get going.”
“Why?”
Cocking his head to the side, he studied me. “Why not?”
“I’m not drunk anymore.”
His gaze flickered to the bottle. “How are you not hungover?”
“I’m a professional. I downed at least ten of those cups of water before you even came up. The secret lies in hydrating.”
“Drinking pro tip from the third-grade teacher?” There was a question in his eyes.
“Talk to me after you’ve spent a day trapped in a classroom with third-graders. Trust me, I know all the pro tips.”
Finished tying his shoe, he sat up. “I should probably go shower and brush my teeth. Maybe we can grab a bite later and talk.”
I didn’t want to talk, I wanted to fuck. And it felt like he was brushing me off. I couldn’t let that happen. I tugged off my shirt and tossed it aside. “Or, you could stay.” Sure, my approach bordered on desperate, but I needed a physical connection, and was willing to bet he did, too.
He froze. His gaze swept over my body before darting away again. “W-what are you doing?”
