He quickened his strides. He’d suffer the consequences of leaving early tomorrow.
“Hello, Avery,” a sultry feminine voice reached out to him, and without permission, his feet veered toward it, his dick doing the navigating, his brain happily conceding.
Fuck, who was he kidding? His brain had taken up residence with his dick the day puberty struck, no eviction date in sight.
Ah, Tits.
She hovered next to the dessert table. And the closer he got, the bigger they grew. His mouth watered, and heat curled low in his gut.
“Hey, beautiful.” Why couldn’t he remember them, er, her? He might not be good with faces and names, but melons like those… He forced his gaze higher. Nope. Nothing. “I almost didn’t recognize you—a sweet among sweets.”
Cheesy as hell, but whatever.
A snort from behind the table pulled his gaze over Tits’ shoulder.
Legs was on her knees with that hip-smacking ass in the air. White linen severed her at the waist, hiding her upper half as she rummaged under the table. Fuck, he’d like to be doing her just like that right now.
But what was that old saying? A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush? Yeah, better to go with the sure bush.
He glanced around, then back to the one in front of him. “Where’s your date?”
“Don’t know.” She lifted a delicate shoulder, her tits jiggled, and there went his fucking focus again. “I’m really bored.”
“Then I’ve failed at my job as host.” He shifted closer and ran a finger up her arm. “It’s my duty to cater to your every need.”
The words rolled off his tongue, easy, smooth, practiced. He could do charm in his sleep.
Another snort. And when he glanced over Tits’ shoulder, he caught an eyeroll. Legs’ was upright, thick black lashes fluttering, then lifting to reveal a shock of piercing blue that scrutinized plates of various desserts she kept rearranging.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Tits asked, a pout in her voice. “If you did, you’d know what I need.”
He could deny his lapse in memory, but sometimes, the truth was the best way to go. Girls liked it when he admitted his faults. They all wanted to fix him.
“I’m sorry. I’m terrible with names, but I don’t know how I could ever forget a woman as lovely as you. I guess I’m hopeless.” He traced the line of her collarbone and relished her shiver. “But if you’ll give me another chance, I could refresh both our memories.”
Legs stuck out her tongue, poked a finger in her mouth, and made a gagging sound.
Yeah, baby, I’ve got something for you to gag on.
He sighed, not lost on the irony of the moment. Here he was up to his eyeballs in Tits and Legs—a position he normally enjoyed—and it looked like he wasn’t getting either tonight.
“Youwerepretty drunk.” Tits offered him an out and a sliver of hope. “I might be persuaded to forgive you.”
Avery shrugged mentally. That he might have been drunk was entirely possible, though he didn’t remember a lot of the girls he fucked. But did hewantto be forgiven? Or…
He flicked a glance at Legs. Hmm, she was fucking hot.
Nah, two tits in my hands are worth more than a bush I might not get to plow.
“How can I earn your forgiveness?” he asked Tits. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’ve had a drink.” She fingered his loose tie. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. If you can remember my name by the time I get back…”
With a saucy flip of his tie, she turned away, ass swinging as she left him to an impossible task.
So much for that bird.
With a mental sigh, he turned toward Legs. Fuck, she was gone.
