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She’d kicked off her shoes and leaned against the doorjamb barefoot, wearing tight jeans and a white button-down shirt that was what the wait staff at Jalisco’s wore. The first few buttons of her shirt were undone, exposing her neck and part of her collarbone. Earlier that night she’d taken down her ponytail and her blonde hair fell straight to her shoulders, messy and inviting. He had a brief fantasy of unbuttoning her shirt the rest of the way and tasting her mouth, her neck, filling his hands with her breasts. Regretfully, he put aside that daydream.
He didn’t answer her with words. Instead he opened a cabinet and got out the aspirin bottle, poured two into his palm and handed them to her, along with the glass of water he’d already poured.
Laurel frowned but she popped the aspirin in her mouth and took a drink of water. “What if I wasn’t drunk?”
“What?”
“If I wasn’t drunk. Would you—”
“Take you to bed?” He groaned, envisioning her naked in his bed. “Damn straight I would.”
After setting down her water glass she walked over to him and slid her hands up his chest to clasp her arms loosely around his neck. Then she stood up on her toes and said, “Kiss me.”
He shouldn’t. He knew that but damn, a man could only stand so much temptation. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Her mouth was soft, inviting; her tongue met his in a slow, seductive rhythm. She strained to get closer. He picked her up and backed her up against the refrigerator, cradling himself between her legs. He wanted his hands on her bare skin, wanted his cock buried deep inside her, pushing her to a screaming orgasm. And that was so not going to happen.
Zack ended the kiss and let her slide down his body, wringing another groan from him. “I’m going to take you home now.”
He expected her to argue but she didn’t. “Can I use your restroom?”
“Sure. It’s through the living room and down the hall before you get to the bedroom.”
He watched her go, satisfied that she would make it without his help. Ten minutes later he went looking for her, certain he’d find her barfing in the bathroom. But the bathroom door was wide open. He found her in his bed. She’d managed to strip off her jeans, leaving her in a hot pink pair of bikini underwear. And thank God, she still wore her white shirt, although she’d unbuttoned a couple more buttons and her bra peeked out, exposing one perfect, lace-covered breast. He managed to rip his gaze from her body to her face.
She’d passed out. In his bed. Half-dressed.
Zack tried half-heartedly to wake Laurel up, but unsurprisingly, he had no luck. Swearing, he stripped off everything except his boxers and crawled into bed beside her. He was damned if he was sleeping on the couch.
Hey, you got what you wanted. Laurel in your bed.
Someone had a shitty sense of humor.
