Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” he groaned. He took inventory of where he was, and what the fuck had happened. His head fucking hurt, that was for damn sure, but nothing else seemed particularly painful, well not unless he counted his stomach, which felt all messed up.
Trying for the whole eye-opening thing again, he lifted a hand and shielded the sunlight and looked around. Okay, so he was in the only spare room of the house he rented with his roommates. The night started to slowly filter through his mind. He’d stumbled through the front door with Vince trailing behind. They’d been loud as fuck, but no one had been home, probably all out partying. He all but crawled up the stairs, and thought this was his room as he’d face-planted on the mattress and promptly passed out.
“Son of a bitch.” He was on his stomach, so he pushed up on his forearms and hung his head for a moment, willing the damn room to stop spinning.
A low moan had everything in him stilling. Looking to his left, he first saw a form covered by a thin sheet. The very female back was covered in a pair of angel wings tattooed between the shoulder blades, followed by a head covered in a mop of wild red hair spread across his pillow.
It took him a moment to come back to reality, but it was all a blur after the club.
He’d gotten totally shitfaced with Vince at the club after he turned down Mary, after he’d been crude and disgusting to her. Shit, he remembered coming home, or stumbling more likely, knew Vince had brought a chick back with them because he’d been too drunk to take his own ass home.
“Please tell me we didn’t…” His throat was tight, his mouth sour. His head pounded, and as he glanced down at his body, he saw he was still fully clothed, and his dick was safely tucked in his jeans.
Oh, thank fuck.
She moaned and rolled onto her back, and at least she wore a bra.
“Tell me we didn’t do anything. For fuck’s sake.” The very thought of being with anyone other than Mary turned his stomach and made his cock shrivel up.
“Huh?” She sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking around at the same time. “Um,” she groaned and placed a hand on her head, a wince on her face. “No,” she finally said, and he let out a relieved breath. “After your buddy conked out before we got to the good stuff, I wasn’t about to end the night without getting mine.” She coughed, her voice sounding rough like she smoked a pack a day. “But it was clear you weren’t into it either.” She looked at him and her face was haggard from a night of hard drinking and sweating on the dancefloor, her mascara creating dark circles under her eyes, her lipstick smeared across her lips and along her cheek.
“You gotta go.”
“Yeah, you kept telling me that last night. You turned me down. Kept talking about Mary.” She pushed the sheets off her and stood. “You told me to leave then promptly passed out.” She looked around again. “I guess I did too.”
He didn’t know why she kept talking. Now that he knew he hadn’t been a dirty fucking bastard, all he wanted was her to get the fuck out.
“You need to leave,” he said again, and scrubbed a hand over his cheek, stubble covering his skin and scraping along his palm.
“Yeah,” she finally said. “Probably best.” She looked around the floor. “Where are my clothes—oh yeah, I took them off downstairs.” She murmured to herself, and without giving him a backward glance, left the room.
He sat on the edge of the bed and rested his forearms on his thighs, hanging his head and just breathing through the sudden nausea that rolled through his stomach. He needed a gallon of water and some ibuprofen.
When three hard raps on the bedroom door broke up his thoughts, he didn’t bother looking up as he called out, “Yeah?”
The sound of the door opening came through and then Racer was chuckling. “Fuck, man. You look like shit run over twice.” Racer’s voice was amused, which further pissed off Alex.
He lifted his hand and flipped him off, but the instant smell of meat cooking had Alex’s stomach roiling.
“Fuck off, Adam.” Alex’s mouth watered with the threat of spewing up whatever was left in his stomach, but he swallowed several times and forced himself to keep it down. “What time is it anyway?”
“It’s after one, fucker. I made some burgers if you want.”
Alex clenched his teeth at the foul words. Just the thought of food had him ready to puke. “Dude, please. Shut the fuck up with any and all talk of food.”
Racer chuckled again. “Well, I can make you some eggs, you know with the really runny centers.” Alex groaned. “Or I can get you some slightly under-cooked meat, you know, to help settle your stomach. Maybe some sausage with those hard little chunks you bite into sometimes?”