I was about to hit reply when the phone buzzed in my hand. It wasn’t a message from her but rather Kill.
It read:You alive?
I typed back:Questionable.
Three dots appeared immediately, then:Good. I’m ten mins from your place. Coming over
I checked the time. It was already past noon. How the fuck had that happened?
Bring coffee,I replied. Then shot him another message.And 2 bigmacs
I needed a shower. Preferably a cold one.
The water helped with my hard on but did little for the headache. I stood under the spray for a hot minute, letting it beat against my back while I tried to organize my thoughts into something resembling coherence. The problem was that the more sober I got, the more the memories came back. And the more the memories came back, the less sense they made. I did remember Baby Doll from the club, but I didn’t remember ever talking to her.
Shit, I had been so fucking wasted.
I got out, toweled off, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and decided to call it a day. That was about all I could manage. My hair was still wet when the doorbell rang.
Killian was standing there with two cups of coffee and a McDonald’s bag. He took one look at me, lifted his shades to themiddle of his head, and just walked in without another word. He’d seen me worse, I was certain of it. But maybe not by much.
“So, she took you home,” he said as he was unbagging the food over the kitchen island.
“Who?” I took one of the cups. “Baby Doll?”
“I think her name’s Mary,” Kill said. “Yeah, the waitress.”
I downed half of the coffee, burning my tongue before I could answer. “Honestly? No idea. But… the evidence sure says she did, yeah.”
Killian paused mid-bite of his Big Mac and stared at me. “Evidence?”
I unlocked my phone, opened OnlyFans, and tossed it across the island to him. The topless photo loaded immediately — those perfect tits glowing under the car flash. The caption underneath was pure filth.
Killian let out a low whistle. “Goddamn. She sent you that this morning?”
“While I was still asleep, apparently.” I rubbed my face, trying to ignore how hard I was getting again just looking at it. “I don’t remember much after we left the club, but I sure as fuck remember a chick on her knees in my living room. That mouth… Holy shit, Kill. First of all, to get my dick up when I’m that blackout drunk — kudos to her. But to get me to come when I’m like that? That takes some impressive skill.”
Killian handed the phone back, shaking his head with a grin. “You are such a lucky, stupid bastard. You offer her thirty-five grand in front of the whole club, and she still deepthroated you? Man, talk about being born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”
“Apparently.” I smirked despite the pounding in my skull. Then I rewound what he had said and my smirk disappeared. “Wait, what? I didwhat?”
“Oh, so you have conveniently forgotten that part.” Killian took a massive bite of his Big Mac. “You offered her thirty-fiveK to fuck her, my man. Loud enough that half the club heard it. Brett told you to chill. I told you to chill. You did not chill.”
I stared at him. The coffee was doing its best, but my brain still felt like it was wrapped in wet cotton. “I offered her… And she saidno?To thirty-five thousand dollars?”
Killian frowned, his eyes drifting to the side, thinking. “Nah, I don’t think she said anything to that.” He swallowed. “Neither a yes nor a no. Not at the club at least.”
I frowned too. “So how did she end up at my place?”
“Took you home.”
I dragged a hand down my face. “She took me home,” I drawled out. “After all that.”
Killian grinned around another bite. “Apparently she has a thing for trainwrecks. Or maybe she just wanted to collect on the crazy rockstar experience — you know how they are.”
I looked down at my phone again, at the photo still open on the screen. Those perfect tits, that teasing little smile, the caption.Still have your taste on my tongue.
Fuck.
