“Oh well, no hard feelings,” I mumble airily, rubbing his chest in slow circles. “I should have taken blonde hottie up on his offer. I think it’s most definitely time to stop sulking and move on.”
I’m not even talking to him at this point. Strange fact, when I get drunk I have a disgusting habit of talking to myself and answering as if no one’s there. One time I’d spent half of a New Year’s party holding an enthralling conversation about global warming.
How do I know? Bee’s friend Jack still has the video he’d taken of the whole mess. A hot mess, but a mess nevertheless.
“I really should. I mean, I almost had a breakdown when they told me about the baby. And what for? Just because the thought of a baby smashes my pathetic heart to pieces doesn’t mean nobody else deserves happiness. And you know what else?”
Okay, here’s the part where I get really sloppy drunk and start saying things that I’ll cringe about later.
“What?” he prompts when I fall silent, my mind whirling sickeningly.
I swallow and blink rapidly, refocusing on his quietly amused face.
“Oh, yeah. I really think I should stop talking to Marty about loving you and just get back on the horse, you know? I mean, it’s so sad to still have those dreams about you all these months later. Yeah,” I say, more decidedly than my sloshing brain should be able to handle right now.
“I think I should definitely do that. Okay, thanks for the dance,” I chirp merrily, pulling away to skip off toward the brightly shining head of blonde hair I see ducking through the main doorway.
I feel so good suddenly that I even smile at Beau and blow him a kiss when I skip by, already unbuttoning the top button of my jacket in an effort to show more cleavage.
“Yo, Jason! What up, man.”
Okay, let’s pause here so I can explain something else. Apparently when I get shitfaced drunk I also start talking like a rapper wannabe. I don’t know why, because FYI, though I’d been caught on video at that New Year’s party and one time had talked to a tree for like half an hour, this is definitely the drunkest I’ve ever been.
“Whatsup, hottie!” he yells back, turning with a lascivious smile. “You change your mind about trying the Jason?”
I’m about to answer with a slick drawl that ‘yes indeed, I do wanna bump all up over that shit’, when a steely hand clamps down over my shoulder, halting my forward progression, which by the way, had a lot of swagger for someone as drunk as I am.
“Fuck off, you wanker.”
“Hey dude—”
“I said fuck off.”
And just like that I lose my new fuck buddy before he’s even had the chance to prove his worth.
“Heeeeyy! What the freak?” I yell, ripping myself away to turn and glare at my new arch nemesis. “I was about to get my groove on.”
Nobody should ever say anything, I mean anything, that cheesy, but hell, when you’re drunk every intelligent word sort of just vanishes.
When I stop swaying, a feat of accomplishment in these heels, in my state, I level a nasty, slightly lopsided scowl at Vincent and shove a finger into his chest.
“What’s your deal, man?”
“What’s my deal?” he sneers, grabbing me roughly and towing me into a storage closet. “My deal is the fact that my wife is throwing herself at a little shite that doesn’t know his dick from his elbow!”
That’s when every last—two—brain cell I have left flies right out the window, and I attack him like a sex-starved lunatic. Not my proudest moment, not by a long shot, but he’d revved my motor on that dance floor and now, after his Neanderthal tactics, wrecked my only chance at relieving this emptiness.
I kiss him, crawling up his front, wrapping myself around him like a vine. When he kisses me back it feels like a homecoming, and I moan, opening myself to the insistent thrust of his tongue and the urgent fumble of hands seeking zippers.
It takes less than a minute for him to divest me of my pants and panties, and then he’s pushing his own pants around his knees and thrusting home.
We’re wild, kissing and going at each other like animals, and I love every second of this uncontrolled seduction. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that angry sex isn’t great, because, honey, I’m testifying that it’s awesome!
He thrusts up and does a grinding motion with his hips, hitting me so deep my body explodes without so much as a wind up, leaving me screaming silently as he groans and pushes deeper, stilling, breathing harshly into my mouth as I feel the heat of his release bursting deep inside me.
“Jesus, dove…I’ve missed this so much,” he groans into the heated skin at my neck, sending shivers down my spine.