Immediately, the stench from the trash fills my senses. Ugh, it’s disgusting as I walk over to it. It needs to be taken out right this second. What did I eat last? Pizza? Alfredo? Something with cheese, and it’s rotting.
“Damn,” I mutter, holding my breath. I tie the bag and walk outside to take it to the dumpster when I notice Dylan’s truck is still in the same spot. He drives but then stops when he sees me. He jogs out and takes the trash from my hand.
“Moo,” he says.
“Moo,” I say back as we walk side by side to the dumpster. “You haven’t left yet? And you didn’t have to. I am more than capable of taking out my own trash.”
He throws it in the dumpster and shrugs. “You can barely walk in a straight line.”
I scoff, but I’m literally leaning against him as we walk back.
“Should I come in? Make sure you’re okay? Wait for you to sober up?” he asks, searching my face.
I push him to break whatever spell he’s under. “Are you trying to finish what we started?”
When he glares down at me, I grab his crotch. Heat flushes through me straight to my core when he’s hard as a brick under my palm.
“Whoa,” he says, trying to push my hand away.
I tease, “Worried someone’s going to see you all worked up, hard, and horny for your best friend?”
He pulls my hand away. “Jesus Christ, Ce. You’re wild when you drink.”
“You haven’t seen me drunk,” I gloat as I skip to my front door. “Oh, and please, please remove the rule so that I can finish my business without tending to yours.”
He kills the engine of his truck and walks towards me.
I watch in amusement and murmur, “I didn’t say you could stay.”
He shrugs. “I’m going to finish you since you’re begging.”
“I wasn’t begging,” I scoff.
He pushes past me. “Please, please,” he mocks. He walks into the kitchen and opens the cabinet under the sink. He finds the trash bags and rings one out. “Let’s play a game of truth or dare.”
“I go first. Dylan, truth or dare.”
“Dare,” he says boldly, putting the new trash liner in the trash can.
“I dare you to jack off.”
His eyes search my apartment. “Right now?”
I nod, biting my tongue. “That’s the game, isn’t it?”
“Can we at least go to your bedroom?”
“Sure,” I say, walking down the hall.
He seems a bit thrown off, so I laugh it off.
“Before I do that, truth or dare?” he asks.
“Truth,” I mutter, lying on my bed. I’m on my back, propped up by my elbows and trying hard not to spread my legs for him.
“Two truths. Are you drunk and going to regret this in the morning?”
I shrug, admitting, “Drunk Ce is different from sober Ce.”
