Just One Taste (Oh Tequila Series Book 2)

by C. A. Harms

  Skimming the lime over my lips, he licked his own and I swear I felt a reaction to his movement, deep within me. I had never in my life been as turned on as I was that moment.

  With the lime in place, the salt sprinkled on me and a shot in hand, Eli set forth his destruction.

  Chapter Five

  Elijah

  I had never put as much effort into a body shot before. But I had never had Catherine lying before me so I was going to make the most of it. I was going to make these the dirtiest fucking body shots in the history of shots. I’d do them all night if she agreed to stay right where she fucking was at this very second. Her dark hair spread out behind her with those pouty lips of hers wrapped around the lime.

  I was having the nastiest damn thoughts of something else those lips would look good wrapped around.

  “You ready?” I asked to break the trance I found myself in.

  “Waiting on you.” Her words were muffled around the lime but I heard them.

  I lowered my mouth to her stomach and ever so slowly ran my tongue over her skin, absorbing the salt, but most of all loving how her skin felt against my tongue. I looked up at her to find her eyes tightly closed, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my lips. It was the reaction I wanted.

  Rising up, I lifted the shot to my lips and downed the liquid just as her eyes eased open. They widened just a bit when I began to move my lips to hers, but just before I reached the lime, I used my hand to pull it away and took her mouth instead. She was shocked at first and I sensed a deep intake of breath just before her hand cupped the back of my neck and held me close. What I had planned to be a simple tease turned into so much more.

  By the time I pulled back she was breathless and her lips reddened.

  “Oh my hell,” a woman said from somewhere around us but there was no way my eyes were leaving Cat’s.

  “You ready for four more of those?”

  “Can we just skip the salt, drink, and lime and go straight for the kissing?” I chuckled at her forwardness and her cheeks reddened. Maybe she hadn’t meant to say the words aloud but the damage was done. I already knew she wasn’t the quiet girl I first met at Porter’s.

  “Shots, shots, shots,” the guys began to chant and suddenly I was seeing visions of tackling the fuckers.

  “That was so unbelievably sexy,” another girl said, somewhere close, and I had to agree.

  “I think the only way we’re getting out of this is if I do these other four shots.”

  “Okay fine.” She smirked and my dick jumped behind the zipper of my jeans. “Only if you promise to make each one better than the last.”

  “Challenge accepted.” And I did just that. By the time the shots were done, I was hard as stone and we were both breathing heavy. Sexual adrenaline was overpowering my buzz, and though I felt a little light on my feet, I still had a long way to go before Clayton would be able to gain his revenge.

  I found him in the room and the guy looked like he was lost. Poor bastard was putting entirely too much behind this challenge. He was so thirsty for revenge it was consuming him. I almost felt sorry for him.

  Almost.

  I carefully helped Catherine up from the counter, and as she slid off, placing her feet on the floor, I made sure to stand close. By the way her eyes widened I’d say she was fully aware of the effect our display moments ago had on me.

  “Those were nothing like any body shots I’ve ever witnessed before.” The breathless way she said it gave my ego one last boost. “I think I need some fresh air.”

  I began to follow behind her but both Marcus and Morgan stepped forward and took my place. Marcus looked me over as she slowly moved away and when his focus landed on my hard cock, I swear the guy purred.

  ***

  “Drink it,” Isaac said as he placed a cup in my hand.

  “What is it?” Lifting the cup to my nose, I took a whiff and crinkled my nose. “It smells like gasoline.”

  “I can assure you it isn’t gasoline, but it is some strong shit.” Still not taking a drink, I looked down at the dark liquid, knowing that if I drank this shit, I’d be paying for it the next day.

  Taking in one deep breath, I lifted the cup to my lips and took a huge drink. It may have not been gasoline but it sure as shit burned like a bitch going down. I winced and suddenly everything inside me felt like it was on fire. My throat, my chest, hell, even my eyes and teeth.

  Shaking my head, I held out the cup to Isaac. “I’d rather drink straight from the tequila bottle.”

  “There may have been some tequila in there too.”

  “May have been?”

  He shrugs as he looks down offensively at the cup he held. “Clayton made it, I just agreed to pass it to you.”

  “Great,” I said and looked around the room before spotting Clayton wearing a huge smile on his face. “That asshole probably roofied me.”

  “Yeah, probably.” Isaac walked away laughing.

  I felt like all eyes were on me at that point. I knew all my brothers had a hand in this. Normally they were loaded by now and doing some crazy shit, but they all seemed eerily sober.

  The moment my teeth felt like they had gone numb and my nose got some tingling sensation, I knew I was fucked.

  Chapter Six

  Catherine

  “Why don’t you just stay at our place?” Morgan insisted as Xavier pulled her backward and pinned her against his body, his arms wrapped securely around her middle. “I’m staying here so my bed is free.”

  “Oh I couldn’t.” I shook my head. “I have things I have to get done tomorrow and—”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to get up and get whatever it is you have to do done.” Marcus stepped up close to my side. “You’ve been drinking and I haven’t. So you can ride with me and tomorrow I’ll bring you back here to get your car. Then you can be on your way doing all those important things you have to do.”

  I think he knew I was lying; I had no life outside of school and work. I was beginning to think that Marcus had some type of built in lie detector. He always had a way of calling my bluff. Even if it was just with a simple look, you just knew he had you all figured out. The unimpressed look, his lips pressed tight together, one side of his nose twisted upward and he’d tilt his head just enough for you to notice.

  “You’re staying,” he finally stated. “You’ll need to get used to the fact that I rarely lose an argument.”

  “This is an argument?”

  “No, not yet, but I can see you debating inside that cute little head of yours as to whether you should carry this out and make it one. Just assuring you before you waste any more time.” He shrugged. “I will win.”

  I’d watched him so many times with Morgan; he’d tell her how it was and that was that. Though sometimes she did attempt to challenge him, in the end he was the triumphant one.

  A night in a clean, quiet, safe environment did sound like a godsend.

  Suddenly there was loud laughter from the other room just before the guy I’d seen watching Elijah all night came running out, looking over his shoulder. He was laughing so hard he had tears streaming down his face. He held his stomach, and once he was in the clear, he bent over at the waist and began laughing even harder.

  Slurred words were being yelled from the next room just before Elijah stumbled through the opening and braced himself on the door frame.

  The guy scrambled even further away, almost falling over a few people in the process.

  “Where’s my pants?” Eli bellowed, and I instantly looked down, wondering what in the hell he was talking about. He was wearing pants. “Clayton?”

  He was obviously drunk; his head moved from side to side as if he was trying to locate the guy and he was straight across from him. Any sober person would have been able to see that.

  “My pants?” he barked again. “Where are my pants?”

  “You’re wearing them,” I spoke up and everyone began to laugh as Eli looked downward.

&nbs
p; He removed one hand from the door frame and began to pat along his leg and across his crotch. I followed his movements, just like I thought everyone else in the room was. Suddenly his hand slid around his hip and his eyes went wide.

  “They’re gone.” When he said that he looked around the room frantically and it almost broke my heart how worried he appeared.

  I started to step forward just as he turned around and that’s when I saw it—and so did everyone else in the room. His entire ass was bare to the world. The entire back of his pants were ripped out. I don’t mean just a small area—I’m saying the entire back end. Pockets and all—gone.

  I tried not to laugh as I continued forward, but I’ll admit I stumbled a step or two until I reached him. “They’re gone,” he repeated the words and at that moment there really was no hope of keeping a straight face.

  “They are,” I agreed, taking his hand in mine. “But if you let me help, I think we could find you another pair.”

  I pressed my lips together tightly to hold back my laughter when a look of relief covered his face. It would appear when the Giant did get hammered he was even cuter and maybe even a bit ridiculous. The normal confident powerful attitude faded.

  He allowed me to lead him from the room, and he at least had the sense to use the wall for his main support. Had he attempted to lean on me we would both on the floor and most likely I would be crushed. I think one of his thighs alone could possibly be the size of my waist.

  With Isaac’s help I was able to find a pair of shorts and very carefully the two of us got him changed. I was tempted to look, I won’t lie, and I probably would have had Isaac not been there to witness, but I looked away. That was until Eli stumbled g trying to take his foot out of the opening of his boxers and the next thing I know I got a dick to the face.

  Yes, you heard me, a dick to the face.

  Since Isaac refused to get even remotely close to Elijah’s front area while attempting to change his boxers, I had no way out of it. I sat down on the toilet lid, turning my head to the side as he held onto the side of the vanity. I tried my best to ignore the fact that I was eye level with his penis. Isaac stood behind him and with one quick jerk, Elijah’s ripped boxers pooled at his feet.

  The taking off part went smooth; it was putting another pair on that proved to be tasking. One leg in, and I took a deep breath, letting it out in relief.

  Then the second leg up had him stumbling and again I got a dick to the face.

  I swear I felt something hard, something other than flesh, but I remained frozen in place. I know my eyes had to be as wide as saucers.

  Laughter behind Elijah forced me to close my eyes, feeling humiliated.

  “You got cock slapped,” Isaac said through his laughter. “Like full on cock to the face, slapped.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I watched it; hell I heard it.” He continued to laugh and I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t asking “Really?”, I was saying it as in “Really, you need to remind me?”

  The night just kept getting better and better.

  The good thing was Eli was completely oblivious to the entire thing. I suspected Mr. Chuckles would inform him when Eli was sober once again, along with the rest of the house.

  I should have just let someone else dress him.

  “Thank you.” I looked up to find Eli staring down at me. I wasn’t sure he could focus enough to know it was actually me he was thanking. “My sweet kitty cat.”

  Okay, so he knew it was me. It made the humiliation I’d just felt seem almost worth it.

  That was until Isaac opened the bathroom door and the first thing he belted out was “Red just cock slapped Catherine!” Once again my cheeks felt heated and I tried to hide my face as I carefully helped Eli from the bathroom.

  Fifteen minutes later Elijah was snoring on the couch beside me, his head resting on my shoulder.

  “I need your help.” I looked up into the excited face of the guy who’d been eyeing Eli all night. “I already have the plan set but I need more hands.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  He shook his head. “No, more like annoying.” When I arched a brow he laughed. “For him, not us.” He pointed to the sleeping man at my side. “Completely safe, I promise, you can just say it’s payback for being slapped in the face with his—”

  I held up my hand to stop him. I’d heard it enough times already.

  “Okay fine.” I knew I might regret this. “I’ll help.”

  I carefully maneuvered my body out from beneath Elijah without disturbing him and followed the blond-haired guy. “I’m Clayton, by the way.” He paused by a door and offered me a smile.

  “I know. I heard Eli shout your name when he came out the front door of the house. I’m Cat.”

  “Your name is Cat?”

  “It’s an abbreviated nickname. Catherine is actually my middle name,” I correct and he stared at me.

  “What’s your first name?”

  “Blake, but no one calls me that anymore.” It was my father’s middle name, and since he passed I guess my mother found it easier to call me Catherine and forget he ever existed. To her he was a mistake, to me he was my hero, and I wished every day he was here to save me. Life would have been so much different had he been a part of my life through my adolescence.

  “Okay, Cat.” Clayton asked nothing further before pushing open the door and chuckled when my mouth fell open in surprise. “I need you to help me get all of these into Red’s room.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it is going to annoy the hell out of him when he has to remove them all.”

  I would never understand frat boys.

  Chapter Seven

  Elijah

  Realizing I was alone in the backyard of my fraternity house, I began moving cautiously toward the back door. With each step I felt as if my shorts and boxers were rubbing against my skin and it almost burned. It felt almost like chafed skin; I’d felt it before, but usually after a long ass game when I sweat for hours and my uniform had begun to wear and pull at my leg hair and other nearby areas.

  It was almost miserable as I parted my legs a bit, walking bow-legged to alleviate the irritation.

  Last night was a blur, at least for the most part. I had the king of all headaches and each step I took I fought the urge to throw up. The puzzle of how I ended up in the backyard to begin with had my full attention as I slipped in through the door and began moving through the kitchen with ease.

  A shower and my bed were the only things that could fix the fucked-up state I was in. Never had I still felt this drunk the day after a party. I thought I was in the clear when I reached the bottom of the stairs, until I heard laughter filtering out from the living room. Not just chuckles but deep guttural laughter that was hard to ignore. Mixed in were muffled groans of pain, only those groans sounded so far away.

  Against my better judgement I moved away from the stairway.

  “He’s gonna kill you,” one of the guys said and I paused just outside the door.

  “Probably,” Clayton chuckled, “but it’s so worth it.”

  I didn’t need to hear anymore to know it had something to do with me. Not to mention those moans of torture were beginning to sound a little like me in a not so pleasant state.

  As I stepped into the open doorway my eyes immediately focused on the computer screen. Clayton, Brent, and Jay all hovered near the desk.

  Moving in a little closer I saw what it is they were watching and my stomach began to twist. There I was writhing in pain as Clayton ripped wax strips off me one by fucking one. With each yank I’d let out a squeal that didn’t sound like me at all. It was the deep groan that would follow that was me over and over.

  “You waxed me?”

  All three of them whipped around and Clayton’s eyes grew wide. Jay’s mouth fell open in shock and then Brent burst out laughing. “That is epic,” Brent sputtered the words through his laughter. He looked over at Clayton. “Shoe polish?” he asked
as he pointed toward my face.

  “No,” Clay said while slowly shaking his head, still staring at me, “sunless tanning lotion.” Each syllable of each word was drawn out.

  “Genius,” Brent adds as he leaned in a little closer. They continued to carry on their conversation as if I wasn’t standing before them. “It’s so dark though.”

  “I got the darkest shade.”

  “Who would even want to be that dark?”

  Clayton shrugged. “Fuck if I know but I was glad they had it.”

  “Darkest shade of what?” I practically yelled the words.

  “He dyed your face twenty shades darker than the rest of your body.” Jay’s words rushed out as he slid backward, as if clearing the area. He looked seriously scared.

  “Let me get this straight.” I grabbed the collar of Clayton’s shirt and pulled him closer. “You wax my fucking junk, dyed my face, and left me passed out in the backyard.”

  Before Clayton could reply, Jay chimed in. “He also glued your ass to the chair.”

  “Glued my…” I paused as I tried to register everything that apparently took place and I couldn’t remember any of it. “What is with you assholes continuously super gluing stuff to my ass?”

  “Frankie loves when we—”

  “Don’t fucking say it,” I warned him and he stopped immediately. I’d had enough. I didn’t give him a chance to say anything more; I knew at this point I couldn’t take another word. I shoved him off and began back to the path I should have stayed on to begin with—heading up the stairway.

  The rest of the house seemed quiet. Pausing as I passed the bathroom, I took a look at my face and realized just how dark it truly was. Imagine Will Smith’s head on an albino’s body. I was a mess.

  Fully intending to Google ways to remove sunless tanning effects the minute I finished a long ass nap, I left the bathroom and continued down the hallway.