"I'm so glad you called me, Larrington," he grinned. "This is very telling. Can't you just feel our friendship losing it's almost status?" He smirked at the look on her face and wrote Shit at licking pussy above douchebag's head with an arrow pointing down.
"I'm going to the bar. I need more alcohol if I'm going to survive this," she said, grabbing her bag and scooting out of the booth. "You want something?" she asked over her shoulder.
He took in the way her dark hair curled gently over her shoulder and her big brown eyes looked down into his. She was so fucking hot, even more so now that he was learning all of this info about her. "That's a loaded question," he grinned.
She leaned over and smacked him upside the head. "From the bar, you idiot!"
He winced slightly, but laughed. "What are you having?"
"Tequila."
And the surprises just kept coming. "Tequila makes me mean, but one won't hurt. And a beer." He entertained very dirty thoughts about her and oral sex while he continued defacing the toolbox's face, along with his bride's, whose eyes were way too close together to even walk through the neighborhood of attractive. (He Adam a dick in her mouth)
Alisha returned with the drinks and slid back into the booth, nearly falling over when she saw the improvements Big had made to the wedding announcement. "Jesus—that's hilarious," she laughed.
He smirked proudly. "Thanks." He watched intently as she reached for the salt shaker on the tray and her pink tongue darted out of that sexy mouth of hers to lick the inside of her wrist. (Lucky wrist) She salted the area and just as she was lifting it to her lips, he thought fuck it and grabbed her wrist, halting her, her eyes shooting over to meet his. Big slowly brought it to his own lips. With a wicked grin, he licked the salt free from her skin. Her eyes went wide, and he winked before knocking back the shot of tequila, feeling it burn a warm trail down his throat.
Heat pooled between her legs and she shivered from head to foot, her radial pulse pounding a mad tattoo where he'd licked her. Oh. My. God. His smirk turned into an all-out leer and part of her wanted to slink under the table and die while the other part wanted to mount him in the booth and never let go. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Danger. Danger, Will Robinson! Maybe she could pretend that didn't just happen. Sure, what a prize idea, you moron. She gave it a go anyway, reaching for the salt shaker between them.
Big held out his wrist for her. "Here, you can do me," he rasped, biting back a chuckle at the appalled look in her eyes.
"Go do yourself, you Neanderthal," she spat, purposely salting her hand instead of her wrist, quickly doing the shot.
"It's fun to ruffle your feathers, Larrington," he told her mischievously.
His eyes sparkled humorously when she looked over at him. "Oh, fuck off, Big," she said lightly, tossing his earlier words back in his face. She slid down the seat and he stopped her, grabbing her arm.
"Where are you going?"
"To sing. I can't listen to this garbage anymore," she said pointing a finger to other patrons in the bar. "My ears are going to bleed."
"Don't pick out anything lame like Celine Dion or, sweet Lord, Beyoncé Beyoncé. There's a time and place for that shit I suppose, but it ain't here and now."
Her lips twitched into a slow, bright smile as her head swam with the effects of even more booze in her system. Why was it you could never feel the booze until you stood up? She couldn't even bring herself to defend her idols' honor. "I wasn't going to."
"Sing something fun! If it's not fun, I'm leaving, Shorty."
"Chill out, mother Bigger!" She found her statement and the look on his face utterly hilarious and she doubled over laughing.
"Christ almighty, Larrington—you're half tanked," he said, laughter rumbling in his chest.
She bobbled her head in full agreement and waved as she hurried towards the karaoke stage.
Big nursed the beer in front of him and turned when he heard Alisha's name being called up next. At least he was going to finally hear something that didn't make his ears hurt even if she did pick a shitty song.
"Wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy. Grab my glasses, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit this city…"
He watched, highly entertained, as she enthralled the audience with the popular song, amazing voice and stage presence. Even though she was half bombed, she sounded a million times better than anyone else so far that night. She looked bright eyed and carefree while she shimmied and bounced along the stage while she sang. He nearly spat out his beer when she got the part about "er'body getting crunk, crunk and boys try to touch my junk, junk" when she gestured to her own goodies. Goddamn, she was fun.
She was laughing as she spilled back into the booth beside him and tumbled against him. "Whoops," she laughed even harder trying to sit up.
Big shook his head. "Easy, killer," he told her, helping her upright. "Nice song, by the way. Personally enjoyed you pointing at your junk."
"Thanks," she grinned. "Your turn. Oooh, wait! You know what would be so much fun?"
His lips twitched. Drunk!Alisha was fucking hilarious. "What's that, Larrington?"
"If you let me sing with Fire Extinguishers sometime!" She nodded her head like it was the best idea she'd ever had. "You could play guitar, and James could play drums, and the other two—whatever. I could sing some songs, we could sing some songs. Oh, oh, oh! And I could play tambourine!"
Big laughed, but didn't think her idea was all that ridiculous. "Could be fun, Shorty."
She clapped her hands excitedly. "Yay! Can I have a tambourine, too?"
"I 'spose," he shrugged.
"Excellent. We
