Intoxicated

by Jeana E. Mann

  The weight of the shot glass felt good in her hand. She slammed down the shot and met his gaze. “Don’t worry about it. I could drink you under the table,” she said. A muffled squeak escaped her as his hand moved to her thigh and squeezed.

  “Does your friend have a designated driver?” The hand moved a little higher, brushing back the hem of the dress.

  “Yep, the Friendly Cab Service is our DD tonight,” she said, still breathless from his touch and all the exercise.

  “Not you — her. You don’t need a ride home.” His gaze darkened. “I’ll take you home — in the morning.” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Or the afternoon.” One long finger swept from temple to chin then tickled along her neck and shoulder. “I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

  Those words, spoken so softly she had to lean forward to hear them, sent waves of desire straight into her womb. With visions of cheesecake and neckties in her mind, she leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, teasing his tongue with hers.

  “Shit,” he whispered.

  She smiled at him then turned to scan the crowd for signs of Karly, and spied her crammed into a nearby booth with a handful of guys. A beautiful smile graced the girl’s face as she gestured with her hands, red curls bouncing. From the expressions of her companions, they found her as captivating as Ally did. She was telling one of her many amusing tales, Ally thought with a sudden rush of pleasure at seeing her friend so happy. Satisfied that all was well, Ally turned back to Jack.

  “I’d really like to strip off that little dress of yours and see what’s underneath,” Jack said, his voice deep and rough. “You’re not wearing a bra, are you?”

  “Stop it.” Instead of cooling her off, his words raised her temperature another degree. She smiled but glanced around nervously to make sure that no one else had heard. “What would Chelsea say about that?”

  “I don’t give a damn what Chelsea thinks.” He withdrew his hand from her thigh and scowled. “What do you know about Chelsea anyway?”

  “Nothing, because that’s exactly what you’ve told me about her. But she must be someone pretty important if you run off after her the other night. So until I get an explanation about Chelsea, this...” She made a grand circle with her hand to encompass her torso. “This is off limits to you, Mister.”

  “Hmmm...” Those dark enigmatic eyes swept down her face to her breasts, lingered there a few seconds while her nipples peaked again, and then ever so slowly trailed down to her pink polished toes and back up. Her body tingled wherever he looked, as if the path of his gaze was as real as his touch. “Are you jealous?”

  “Yes.” Too drunk to lie, she stuck to the bald truth. “I told you before that I’m not into multiple partners. If you want me, then you have to be with me — just me — and no one else. I won’t be another notch on your headboard.”

  “I don’t have a headboard. Besides, I’ve already had you.” The full lips twisted into a sly grin. “What makes you think that I want you again? You know I’m not a repeat offender.”

  Her eyes fluttered down to where the straining fly of his jeans said otherwise. She smirked.

  “I think I like it when you’re drunk,” he said and signaled Randy. “I’ll answer your questions, but you’re going to have to work for it. Dude, bring us a bottle of Crown. Maybe we should play a little game of skill. Do you know how to play quarters?” She nodded. “Okay, well, every time you sink a quarter, you can ask me a question. But if I hit the glass, then you have to answer my questions.”

  “Deal.” She had to bite her lip to hold back the smile.

  A few minutes later found them squirreled away in one of the back rooms, seated at a small round table with two shot glasses and a bottle of Crown Royal in the center. The crowd of people was a distant murmur like the droning of bees, the music a noiseless vibration of the walls. Jack lounged in the opposite chair, an overconfident grin on his lean face. Ally smiled back, her features schooled into an expression of innocence. He really had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

  “House rules. Rule number one...” As he spoke, he ticked off his fingers in sequence starting with his thumb. “You keep shooting until you miss,” Jack said. “Once you miss, you drink and you lose your turn. Rule number two...every time you hit, you can ask one question and the loser drinks. Rule number three...if the quarter falls on the floor the shooter drinks and loses their turn.”

  Randy stood next to them, shaking his head in disapproval. “For the record, I think this is a bad idea. If someone pukes, I am not cleaning it up.”

  “Shut up and give me a quarter,” Jack said with his eyes glued to Ally.

  “Just saying is all.” Randy dug deep in his pocket and slapped a quarter to the tabletop.

  “Ladies first.” Jack filled one of the shot glasses to the line with whiskey.

  Ally took the quarter between thumb and forefinger, grabbing George Washington by the ears. “Do I get a practice shot?” she asked.

  “Hell no,” Jack and Randy replied in unison.

  Overhead the bare light bulb glared off of the shot glass. Ally placed her elbow on the table and lined up the quarter then made a few adjustments to the glass. Squinting with one eye closed, she bit her bottom lip and bounced the quarter off the tabletop. It landed with a plink in the shot glass. Jack’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Satisfied, Randy laughed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Who is Chelsea?” she asked with a smug grin.

  “I have known Chelsea since I was six years old. She took my virginity when I was fourteen,” he said before draining the shot. “Go.”

  Ally frowned. That wasn’t the kind of answer she wanted and Jack didn’t seem inclined to offer any details without encouragement. She lined up the quarter again and sunk it in the shot glass. “Are you sleeping with her?”

  “No.” He slammed back his shot and nodded to the quarter. “Go.”

  “That’s not an answer,” she protested.

  “Then you shouldn’t ask yes or no questions,” he replied.

  She shrugged, took aim, bounced the quarter again, and smiled in triumph. “When was the last time you slept with her?”

  He scowled. “Three months ago, long before you and I hooked up. It was a huge drunken mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since.” After drawing in a long shaky breath, he drank the next shot. “I’d say this is beginner’s luck but...”

  With a smile, she stood up and leaned over the table in front of the shot glass. She placed the quarter on the bridge of her nose, took careful aim, and let the coin roll slowly off the tip. It bounced on the table and landed solidly in the glass.

  “Damn! Now you’re just showing off.” Jack leaned back in his chair and rubbed his belly. “I think I’ve been scammed.”

  “I should’ve told you that I was campus champion in college,” she said. “I hit the glass one hundred and ten times in a row.” Jack smacked his forehead and groaned. “It was your game, your rules,” she reminded him.

  “Fine. Next question.”

  “Were you ever in love with her?” She held her breath in anticipation of his answer and suddenly wished she could take it back. One word — the wrong word — would crush her foolish fantasies before they had a chance to take root.

  “Once for about five minutes. Then she opened her mouth and it was all over.”

  She sunk the next quarter in the glass.

  “If it’s over with you guys then why does she keep calling you?”

  “I don’t think I like this game anymore,” Jack said with a scowl and pushed his chair back from the table. “She’s messed up bad and I made her that way. Not on purpose, but I helped. She blames me for the way she is and I guess deep down that I blame myself, too.”

  His answer only piqued her curiosity more. Determined to get more answers, she began to line up the quarter again when Jack stood up and removed his vest. As she released the quarter, he pulled off his shirt in a symphony of rippling abs and pecs.
Her hand wavered and the quarter glanced off the edge of the glass. He stretched, flexing every glorious muscle in his torso, and grinned.

  “That’s cheating,” she said and reached for the quarter. “I’m taking another shot.” Before she could remove the quarter, his hand covered hers and pressed it against the table.

  “Nothing in the rules about clothing,” he said. “My turn.” He deftly sunk the quarter into the glass. “Why are you so afraid to have an orgasm? The other night it seemed like you were enjoying it and then you got all tense and worked up. What’s that about?”

  Jesus! The man didn’t waste any time. A lifetime of embarrassment and self-loathing collided under the guise of a blush that raised her temperature several degrees. Ally cleared her throat and took her time about drinking the shot of whiskey. The liquid slid down her throat in a warm rush. A fine dew of perspiration broke out on her temples.

  “Answer up,” he said with a stern look. If he had been affected by drinking three shots in a row, he didn’t show it while she, on the other hand, felt pleasantly muddled.

  “That’s two questions.”

  “Answer.” He refilled the shot glass while he waited. “Why did you get so freaked out? Was it something that I did? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

  “I did. I was.” The numbing effects of the alcohol, while lowering the barrier to her emotions, caused her words to tumble over each other. “Sometimes my mind seems to take over and I just can’t let myself go.”

  “Why is that, baby?” With a graceful slide, he moved his chair next to hers. He took the shot glass away from her, set it down on the table, and took both her hands in his.

  “I used to be fat,” she said. The words fell out in a rush. “I mean really fat. Huge. And I guess deep down, I still feel like that fat girl. It’s hard for me to believe that anyone could ever be attracted to me. Especially someone who looks like you.”

  He frowned at that, his black eyebrows drawing sharply together. “Baby, you are smoking hot. I like the way you look.” He cupped her cheek with a gentle hand. “I’m the one who can’t believe you’re with me.”

  As incredible as that idea sounded, he seemed sincere and that instigated a whole new pack of insecurities. He was hot and attracted to her. The only thing more frightening was the power of her attraction to him. “You scare the hell out of me, Jack...I have all these feelings for you that I can’t seem to control. You could really hurt me without even trying. I can’t let that happen. Not after Brian. I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

  The distant sound of the band faded away until there was only Jack. He knelt on one knee in front of her, raised one of her hands to his lips, and kissed the back of it. When he looked up into her eyes, his face held an expression of tenderness that brought the sting of tears to her eyes.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m not fool enough to make any promises. I can pretty much guarantee that I will hurt you sooner or later. Not because I want to but because I’m an asshole. You already know that. What I can tell you with absolute certainty is that you are the only woman who ever had the power to hurt me back. And that scares the hell out of me.” The full lips brushed the back of her hand again. “We might be really good together. You might be passing up the chance of a lifetime.”

  “That’s just it, Jack. I don’t take chances.”

  “The greater the risk, the greater the reward. You’ll never get anywhere in this world if you don’t risk something.” He sat back on his heels, her hands still in his. “Take a chance on me, Ally.”

  The only sound in the room was the pounding of her heart as he stared up at her with liquid brown eyes. She pulled her hands from his and cupped his face, savoring the scratch of his stubbled cheeks against her palms. Before she could think better of the idea, she leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. Beneath her lips, his mouth curved in a smile. The kiss deepened as he leaned forward between her knees.

  “I think you’re a hell of a risk, Jack Jameson,” she whispered against his lips.

  With her hands, she traced the curve of his bare shoulders and the lines of his tattoos. A murmur of pleasure escaped him as his lips went down her neck and lingered in the hollow of her throat. Her breath hissed as he nipped the tender flesh. With an unintelligible curse, he stood, strode over to the door, and turned the lock with a click of finality that echoed through the room like the cocking of a hammer on a gun. Very slowly, he turned around and leaned back against the door with his hands behind him. Her belly clenched with anticipation.

  “Take your panties off,” he said his voice low and seductive. His eyes locked on hers. She couldn’t tear away from that gaze if she wanted to. Slowly, she slid them down and let them fall to the floor. “Leave them there,” he said when she made a move to pick them up.

  The long muscles of his throat convulsed as he watched her. When he spoke, his voice was a rough whisper. “It makes me crazy knowing you’re naked underneath that sweet little dress.” One hand went to his fly as he adjusted himself.

  “Then why are you all the way over there?” she asked, breathless.

  In two long strides, he crossed the room, swept her into his arms, and sat down in the chair with her settled on his lap. The soft denim of his jeans rubbed against her bare bottom, a novel and scintillating sensation. He nudged the bottle of whiskey toward her. “Pour us another shot.”

  “I’m already drunk, Jack,” she said. “I’ll have a hangover tomorrow.”

  “You’ll be fine. I’ll take care of you.”

  The liquid splashed on the rim of the glass as she poured with shaking hands. She handed one of the shots to him and took the other one for herself. Together they tossed them back. The warm liquid spread down her throat and into her stomach, leaving a pleasant relaxed sensation in its wake.

  “Better?” he asked. She nodded in answer, too nervous to speak. He frowned at her. “Jesus, baby, you’re all tense.”

  His left hand rested on the small of her back. Her feet dangled above the floor as he shifted her weight across his thighs. One of his hands stroked her hair, a soothing gesture that only excited the butterflies in her stomach.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered. The short curly hairs of his chest tickled her palms. His lips brushed her cheek, then her ear; his teeth nibbled on her earlobe and tugged gently. Ally kept her eyes closed feeling the sensations, relaxing under his touch. The heat of his breath burned her skin as his lips trailed along the curve of her jaw and finally up to her mouth. He kissed her then, bending her backwards, slowly and leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world and nothing existed outside of that tiny room.

  When her lips felt swollen with desire, he stopped and pulled back. The walls of her chest ached from the furious beating of her heart. She opened her eyes to find that he was still very close, so close that the gold and black flecks in his brown eyes were visible. Damn, but he is gorgeous. Those agile fingers skimmed along the inside of her halter top, brushing the tops of her breasts. She held her breath waiting for him to go further. He bit his lip and suddenly yanked open the halter so that one breast popped out. The movement was classic Jack; sweet and tender with an element of danger lurking just beneath the surface. One finger traced a circle around her nipple. He smiled as the pink tip hardened beneath his touch.

  “You’re going to have to tell me what you like,” he said. “Do you like this?” He took the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it gently.

  “I like it,” she whispered.

  “I like it, too.” He leaned forward and nuzzled her nose with his. “Look how hard you are. You have the nicest tits I’ve ever seen.” As if to prove his point, he cupped her left breast and leaned down to take it in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the tip until she squirmed in his lap.

  “I think we should take this slow,” he said as if just coming to the decision. “I don’t want a repeat of the other night. This is going to be all about you. I’m going to make yo
u beg me for it and when I’m done, you won’t remember your name.”

  “Oh.” That odd panting noise was her breath as he ran his hand along the inside of her thigh, stopping just short of the apex. “I think I want it now,” she said, but there was no thinking about it. The man was about to drive her crazy with his hands stroking up and down her thighs, brushing against her pubic hair, then retreating.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to touch me.” The need for propriety disappeared as his fingers teased and retreated over and over again. The only thing she could think about was his touch...anything to make the aching need in her womb disappear.

  “Where?” Jack asked against her lips. “Show me where.”

  “Down there.”

  “Pull your dress up and show me exactly where,” he whispered.

  Eager to obey and alleviate the ever growing tension, she raised the hem of her dress over her panty-less hips to reveal the small triangle of dark blond curls. The sharp intake of his breath caused her to risk a glance at his face. His eyes gleamed dark and menacing, almost frightening. “Here. I want you to touch me here.”

  “Here?” The tone of his voice turned playful as he touched a finger to the tip of her nose. She scowled at him.

  “You know where,” she said, exasperated. “Do I need to draw you a map?”

  “Easy, baby.” With a chuckle, he outlined her lips with his forefinger, and then slowly slid it into her mouth. She sucked on the tip then bit it gently. “Mmmm…” He took his finger, wet with her saliva and slowly insinuated it into the curls between her legs, pressing gently downward and moving it in slow circles. The delicious sensation sent shocks of pleasure down through her legs.

  The unbelievable bliss caught her by surprise. Her breath hitched in her throat. As his fingers moved in languorous circles, stroking and sliding, up and down, her legs twitched. “Open up for me, baby, so I can get inside you,” he said. One finger slid inside. A second finger followed the first. Who knew that two fingers and a thumb could cause such bliss? She bit her lip to keep from crying out.