“Exactly. Come here.” I patted the bed and waited for him to weave his way over. He caught himself on the corner and steadied himself before shuffling between the wall and mattress.
“God, that shit is going straight to your head, isn’t it?”
“Yes, thank fuck.” Weaving on his feet, his gaze landed on my boobs. “You’re not wearing a bra.”
“They’re just boobs, Nick. Your mom has them.”
His eyes squeezed shut. A flush spread over his cheeks, the liquor warming him from the inside out.
Off balance Nick was actually kind of fun to watch.
“Nope. No talking about anything on my mother or father. Nada.”
“God, you must be fun in the bedroom. Yeesh.” I unlocked my phone. “Take your shirt off.”
He didn’t even argue, which told me just how hard the liquor was hitting him. Good, the sphincter would stop being so stubborn and just sleep in the bed.
His black Henley hit the floor.
My mouth ran dry.
Dark hair curled over his hard chest, narrowing to a trail running along the valley of his abdomen and disappearing behind his zipper to the thick bulge there.
Ummm…
He flicked open the button of his jeans, his eyes following my gaze as I followed the hair even farther down.
He smirked. “I’m not hard.”
He said it like he was proud of the fact. Proud of that super self-control. And all I could think was if he was that big and not hard, how big was he when—not the point.
I shook my head.Snap out of it, hussy.“Good to know, Romeo. Come on… selfie time.”
“And…” he trailed off pointing a finger at me. “You might be surprised by how I am in the bedroom. Shocked even.” He dropped onto the bed and scooted in next to me.
“Sure I would.” I snorted and slung my arm over his shoulder and angled the lens just right. With the alcohol swirling in his gut, he might have thought he talked a good game, but I was not biting. “Now smile.”
Chance was going to lose his shit, and I couldn’t be happier. I was perfectly sober, but Nick was sporting a super cozy buzz and he’d leaned into me in a way I knew Chance had never seen before. In the background, the toy collection hung on the door promising one hell of a night.
Ah, solid ground. Charlie the troublemaker, perfectly sober, plying Saint Nick with alcohol and seducing him into a night of debauchery.
I tossed a tongue emoji on it and typed ROOMIES! in all caps before sending it off.
Then I silenced my cell.Have a good night, bro.
“God, I’m tired,” he muttered next to me.
“You’re lit.”
He gave me a thumbs-up and dropped his arm just to have his fingers land on the massager. His eyebrows drew together, and he yanked his hand back.
Not lit enough, apparently. I picked it up and held it up between us. “Don’t be scared… if you’re so worried about your virtue, this is your best friend.”
“That looks like a goddamned virtue collector for a giant.”
“Ha! Good one. The fear in your eyes means you won’t cross it. Your virtue is safe. You were so worried about my vagina having teeth, but see, no teeth marks.”
He stretched and his jeans slid lower. “We’re sleeping with it?”
