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“You sure? You’re drunk, you’re not exactly making good decisions.”
“Brick,” she whispered. “Mine.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” Then he disappeared. She thought he might have said something about flying. That reminded her. She was going to fly.
Whee!
Then something rocked her. Oh. That didn’t feel good. That felt like she might throw up.
“Careful you don’t end up with puke down your back,” someone said. Who was that? Who was going to throw up? Why would they do it down someone else’s back?
Why did she want to throw up? Where was she? Why was the ground moving under her? Was she flying?
“Better than her trying to fly her way out of here.”
That was Brick. Who was flying? Her? That sounded like so much fun. If she wasn’t feeling so sick.
Wait. What was that? There was a mighty fine ass right in front of her face. Well, she couldn’t let that go to waste, right? If someone was going to put their mighty fine ass in front of her, then she was going to squeeze it.
She grabbed it hard.
“Holy shit!”
She was jostled.
“What happened?”
“She just squeezed my ass.”
Someone started laughing and she smiled. She must have done a good job. She started hitting it. One-two. One-one-two-two. This was fun.
“Juliet, stop smacking my ass.”
But it was such a cute ass. But maybe she should go back to squeezing it. That was just as much fun. Squeeze. Slap.
“Thank fuck,” Brick muttered, then she was flying again. Whee! She came to a stop facing him. He still had a hold on her, so her feet dangled in the air. She wrapped her legs around his waist.
Did he want to dance?
“Duchess, I have to put you down in your seat.”
Seat? What seat? She stared behind her at Brick’s truck. Aww, she didn’t want to go home yet.
“Juliet,” he said in a warning voice.
She liked it when he called her Duchess. Reaching up, she attempted to get his lips to say the word.
“Maybe you best hop into the back with her,” someone suggested. “I don’t think you’ll like it if she starts doing that to one of us.”
Brick just grunted.
When he tried to move her away from him, she let out a protest.
“It’s okay, Duchess,” he soothed. “I’m just putting you in your seat.” He sat her down and pulled the belt over her.
Urgh, the seat belt was cutting right into her neck. She had already unclipped the belt by the time he got in the other side.
“Keep your belt on, Juliet,” he warned.
