She needs a family.
One that we can give her if she lets that hard exterior of hers crack long enough to see it and let us in.
CHAPTER
THREE
Britton
My head poundsas I grip it to ease the hammering ache and roll over to the side, hitting a brick wall. My eyes snap open and when I see a man’s buff chest in my line of vision, I release a blood-curdling scream.
“Shh,” the male voice whispers, reaching over and cupping my mouth to stop my high-pitched, streaming bellows. “Woman, stop. I’m too damn hungover to have my ear drums busted.”
“LoneStar?” I ask, clutching the sheet to my bare chest, and pushing his hand away from my face. “Fucking hell. We had sex, didn’t we?”
“I don’t remember,” he mumbles, sounding morose as he lifts the sheet and looks down at his body. “I’m naked, are you naked?”
“As the day I was born,” I snap, internally examining my body for signs of sex. I find a ton of them. My breasts are sore, moreso my nipples as if they’ve been chewed on, I have beard burn onmy chest, and feel the evidence of the same thing between my legs. Dammit, that’s something I’d love to be able to remember because I have a feeling he’s a master at eating a woman out. “Please say we used a condom.”
“I can’t,” he sighs. “Because I don’t remember.”
“You already said that,” I gripe.
“Well, I’m saying it again, Britton. I can’t tell you something I don’t know. Are you on the pill?”
“Yes,” I lie, clamping my eyes closed. I can’t use any form of birth control on the market that the doctors have found. I’m allergic to everything that’s been prescribed which is why I rely on condoms to prevent myself from getting knocked up, amongst other things like sexually transmitted diseases. That thought has my stomach churning. “I’m gonna be sick.”
“Put your foot on the ground and use it as landing gear,” he says, thinking I’m nauseous from the after effects of alcohol.
“That’s not what has me queasy,” I acknowledge. “When’s the last time you’ve been tested, LoneStar?”
“You mean for diseases and shit?” he asks, sounding angry.
“Yes. For diseases and shit,” I grumble.
“I don’t fuck without protection, Britton. And I just had my quarterly test for insurance before I left for Montana. The results came back clean.”
“Don’t get snappy with me, LoneStar. Were you with anybody while you were gone?”
“No, Britton. I was working,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Wanna share your sexual history with me too? Have you been tested and when’s the last time you were with a man before me?”
“Three years, fucker. It’s been three goddamn years since I had sex. Satisfied?” I huff.
“Almost. Last time you were tested was when, Britton?”
“Before coming here,” I reluctantly answer. “When I applied for health insurance.”
“So we’re both clean, you’re on birth control, looks like we beat the bullet on that one, huh?” he cheekily asks.
“Yes,” I lie—again. For the life of me, I don’t understand why I’m not telling him the God’s honest truth. It’s not like me to fib, even if it’s a little one, which this one is not.
This is big.
Monumentous.
Life-changing.
A ‘fuck me walking sideways’ blooper.
