My fuzzy gaze travels lower, sharply focusing when I realize that her shoulders are bare. A comforter is covering her body, but she’s definitely naked.
My cock immediately hardens at this realization, and I take her in. Even though she’s breathing softly, I remember how she breathed when I was buried inside her. I remember the face she made when she came all over my length, squeezing it tightly. The thought alone makes me bite my knuckles.
Focus on something else, Reid.
A few more freckles dot her shoulder, and my fingers itch to reach out and touch them, but I hold them back. I lift my arm and look down at my body instead, finding myself completely naked and completely uncovered.
Shit.Did I really just plop down on her bed, completely naked, and pass the hell out after sex?
Yes. Yes, I did.
One-night stands aren’t typically my thing. I don’t do them. It was ingrained in me as a teen not to get someone knocked up from senseless sex by my parents. They didn’t tell me why at the time, but I now know it was because of what I’ll inherit when they pass their empire down to me, something I’m not and have never been interested in.
That didn’t stop me a few times though. I was a little wild as a teen. The few times I have had one-night stands, it was a mess afterward, and I quickly learned my lesson. Since then, I’m not the kind of guy to meet a girl at a party and screw her in the next five minutes of swapping names, no matter how attracted I am to her. No matter how good her lips taste. No matter how her eyes shine with interest for me. Just me. Not for the car I drive. Not for my parents’ bank account. Just me.
Briefly, I run a hand over my face and then look back at her. What do I do? Do I wake her? God, I can’t do that. She was just as drunk as I was last night, and she probably won’tremember a thing that happened. I’m honestly surprised that I do. I remember every detail vividly. How her body fit to mine. How her curves felt under my hands.
Anyway, she will probably freak the hell out and kick me out before I can get my pants on.
My phone dings, and I look over her sleeping form to the floor where my jeans are, my phone tucked into a pocket. I sigh a little and try to peek at the sun through the sliver of opening in the curtains. I know exactly who is texting me, and by the position of the sun, I’m late as hell.
Carefully, I crawl off her bed, working hard not to jostle her. Not to wake her.
When I’m clear of the bed, I pad across the carpet and snatch up my jeans. I slide the phone out of my pocket and read the text. Or, rather, the stream of them.
Dustin Moore
What happened to you last night, man? You disappeared.
Not going to lie, I’m hurt I didn’t at least get a goodbye.
I can’t help the grin. I know he’s joking. He’s my best friend; people joke about our bromance all the time.
When we first started college two years ago, we didn’t know each other. We met atoneparty, and we hit it off immediately. That was back when I was just getting on my feet without my mother and father’s noses breathing down my neck. It was my first bout of freedom, and Dustin took me under his wing and showed me what life was like when I wasn’t surrounded by money. He reminds me of the little things that matter more than the things that money can get me. A friend like him doesn’t come around often.
I continue reading.
Dustin Moore
I’m at the gym.
Okay, I’m inside and I don’t see your wimpy muscles anywhere.
The grin resurfaces. I’ve been lifting weights since high school. I’m far bigger than him in the muscle department, having introduced him to it a few weeks after we met. He never misses the opportunity to try to make his muscles seem bigger.
Dustin Moore
Seriously. Some girl is staring at me and I need you to turn her away. Where are you?
I glance back at Sarah and then reply to the text.
Reid Rathe
Sorry, got held up. I’ll be right there.
Setting the phone on the floor, I quickly slide on my underwear and jeans and then pick up my phone again, slipping it into my back pocket. I pluck up my shoes and my messed-up shirt and quietly exit the room, making sure the knob doesn’t latch too loudly.
I stand there for a moment, feeling obligated to at least say goodbye to the woman sleeping on the other side of the door. She deserves more even if I don’t really know her.
