"Do you find me attractive?" she asked in a small voice.
Big snorted. "What kind of stupid question is that?"
"Just answer it," she whispered again, pressing her body closer to his.
"Woman, don't be dumb. You're sexy as hell and since you're drunk I'll admit that you're nearly fucking killing me right now with the way you're looking at me."
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and smiled softly. "I think you're sexy, too. I don't know why I've been trying to fight that. It's just fact. You're sexy," she reiterated.
Truth. "Thanks," he grinned, his eyes falling closed when her hands ran over the soft stubble of his shorn hair on the back of his head. "Larrington, this isn't a good idea." If she didn't fucking stop he was going to do something they'd both regret. Well, she definitely would, and he was thinking he might. She smiled again, all dark hair and eyes and bright white teeth and he was starting to lose it. This shit was messed up.
"I think it is," she purred. She purred, goddammit! Then those full lips brushed against his own in a feather light, teasing kiss, the lust springing to life now. Alisha peered up at him again, a knowing smile in her eyes and on her lips the moment before she crushed her mouth to his.
He inhaled sharply, and his hands came around her hips, pulling her flush against him as her tongue parted his lips and danced inside. He heard the moan low in her throat and he deepened the kiss, his nerves sparking like a live electrical wire. You need to stop this, asshole. She's drunk. More, just a little bit more. His hands came up to her face and he fisted his hands in that chestnut curtain, plundering her mouth until his brain screamed for oxygen. Pulling away, he unwrapped her arms from around his neck and stepped back, putting some very necessary distance between them.
"Where are you going?" she asked, reaching for him.
"You're drunk, baby," he said gruffly, feeling the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans.
She giggled softly. "So?"
"Larrington, you're on the verge of passing out…and when we have sex, I want you to remember everything I do to you and the way I make you feel."
"I like the way I feel right now," she told him, brushing the hair out of her eyes.
Of course she did. If it was half of what he felt right now she'd be ready to fuck on cloud goddamn nine. "Go to sleep." She shook her head no. "Larrington, come on," he practically begged. He walked back over to the bed and pulled back the covers for her. "In you go."
"Are you joining me?" she asked hopefully.
He nearly wanted to cry, if he did such pussy things. Which he didn't. She was offering herself up and he wanted to bang her so fucking badly. But, even though he was a total asshole about 99.99% of the time, he just couldn't take advantage of her like this. "No," he said grumpily.
"You're no fun," she yawned, crawling under the covers.
"Tell me about it," he muttered. He looked down at her hair fanned out on the pillow, her heavy eyes and slight smile and nearly threw all resolve out the mother fucking window. "Goodnight, Alisha."
Big walked out of her bedroom and out the front door when he realized that he didn't have any way of locking her apartment. Once again, his fucking conscience got to him and he knew he couldn't leave her in there with the door unlocked. Son of a whore! He went back inside and plopped down on her large, comfortable couch, shifting one of the throw pillows behind his head.
His balls detested the color blue.
Chapter 8
The next morning after Alisha stepped out of the shower, she felt human again, the last traces of her headache dissipating as she combed out the wet strands of her long dark hair. She gently patted the excess water from her skin and slathered her body with lotion, all the while trying to piece together the details of last night. She was a little foggy and didn't remember anything after doing tequila shots with Big at Wicked Willy's. It still surprised her that she'd called him to help get her mind off things in the first place. But he hadn't judged her, and he'd made her laugh. She figured that was all she'd really wanted, so mission accomplished.
While there was a lot she couldn't remember, she half wished she could forget the trail his tongue had licked on the inside of her wrist. The trail that still pulsed if she thought about the way his eyes had locked onto hers and smirked as he'd done so. "God," she murmured to her reflection in the foggy mirror. Alcohol was bad news. She'd told him way too many intimate details about herself last night and that was something she never would have done in ten million years if her tongue hadn't been loosened by the effects of liquid truth.
Something nagged at her brain though, like she was missing the final piece of the puzzle; but seeing as she'd awoken fully clothed and alone (thank God), all seemed right with the world. Still, she made a silent promise to herself to lay off the booze for a while…or at the very least not imbibe in the presence of the fireman.
She brushed her teeth and padded back into her adjoining bedroom to get dressed for the day. Looking around her room for the new things she bought yesterday, she remembered she'd dropped them by the front door in her haste to forget the Gregory bullshit. Hanging the towel on the hook behind the door, she walked into her living room. She was halfway to the front door when the screaming started.
Big groaned and stretched his arms over head as he pushed through that hazy state between sleep and wakefulness. His eyes slowly blinked
