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“I do not feel good,” I exclaimed, burying my head into the pillow.
A low, throaty chuckle was the first sound this morning not to pound against my head. It was somewhat of a salve. “I would imagine,” Swiss muttered, voice still thick with sleep. “You were wasted last night, baby.”
My stomach dropped. Not with nausea, though that was swirling in there too. Cold dread momentarily paralyzed me.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
Swiss’s arms went tight around me before he moved me very gently to my back.
He propped himself up on his elbow. I squinted up at him because I was not brave enough to open my eyes all the way yet. I didn’t trust the dim sunlight coming from the curtains not to burn my retinas out. I also did not want to see the expression on Swiss’s face.
“Why the fuck are you apologizing, Countess?”
I slowly creaked my eyes open.
The light did in fact sear against my eyes, but I focused on Swiss. He did not look disgusted or furious with me. He did not look like he was planning on kicking me out of this bed or out of his life.
“Because I was drunk,” I answered slowly.
“So was I,” he shrugged. “So was everyone. It was a party. And you’re sexy as fuck when you’re drunk.” His hand moved under the covers, down my bare stomach, in between my thighs.
I let out a gasp.
“And you fuck like a wildcat when you’re drunk,” he murmured. “We’ve established that I like control when I’m fuckin’, but even I wasn’t brave enough to go against you last night.” He leaned down to kiss my neck.
My body forgot about how hungover it was.
“I was happy to submit to you,” he said against my neck. “And I’m tempted to get you wasted more often to see what else you do.”
My eyes rolled back in my head. “So I didn’t… embarrass you?” I asked quietly.
The hand between my legs paused, and Swiss’s head came up. “That’s what you’re thinkin’?” he asked. “That you embarrassed me?”
I nodded slowly, hot with shame.
Swiss grasped my chin. “Kate, I have no idea what kind of asshole your ex was, and by the sounds of it I really don’t want to because then I’ll be taking a trip to meet him.” His eyes went dark. “And that would not go well for him.”
My breath hitched.
“But,” Swiss continued, “you are not with him anymore. You’re with me.” His eyes blazed, emphasizing his sincerity. “And you do not have to worry about fuckin’ embarrassing me. Not ever. You party as much or as little as you like. You wear whatever the fuck you like, preferably without a bra.”
His hand moved to tweak my nipple.
“I know you’re new to the outlaw world, babe. But you’ll learn that we live hard. That we party harder. We don’t give a fuck about appearances.”
I stared into his eyes, my head thumping and my heart fluttering.
“I don’t know what shit you’ve had before, but you don’t need to apologize to me about havin’ a good time.” His burnt coffee orbs sparkled as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “And you certainly don’t need to apologize for what you did last night. It was a first for me, which is sayin’ a lot.”
Blurry images ran through my mind as I remembered the power I felt last night, liberated by tequila. I immediately knew I wouldn’t be able to replicate that night, that feeling again. But that’s what made it so special.
And the only dread I had about last night completely dissipated. Despite how close to death I was feeling in that moment—soothed quite a bit by the look Swiss was giving me—I’d had fun. Beyond fun.
My phone buzzed. I groaned. “That’s got to be Julian,” I said, my voice ragged. “I only met the man once, but I know he’s serious about coffee and have a feeling he’s not going to stop calling until I arrive.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Swiss replied, yanking the covers back to expose my naked body. His hands went to my legs, spreading them so he could settle in between them. “I’m serious about eating my woman’s pussy first thing in the morning.”
And I could not formulate an argument to go against that.
