I’ll tell you what I’d like to suck. Her nipples, her clit, her navel. And I’d like to thrust my rock-hard cock into her so deep her fucking eyeballs bulge. But I’m not going to do any of that tonight. She’s so out of it, I might as well be fucking a dead person. And I’m not into that. No matter how fucking beautiful Bowie looks, lying there, naked as fuck. “Fine. I suck. If that’s the worst thing you can say about me tonight, I can live with that.”
There is a small trash bin next to the console table. I grab that and make sure that it has a liner in it, before placing it next to her head on the floor. “Goodnight, Bowie.” I kiss her on the forehead.
“Jagger.” She whispers.
“Yes, sweetheart.” I whisper back, kneeling, so I can see her face.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now get some sleep.”
Suddenly, she gasps, and real tears fall down her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry about what?”
“That I made us lose all those years together.”
I slide a finger down her cheek. “I’m sorry, too.”
She gasps again, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Hey, now. What’s all this?”
“I don’t know. I get emotional when I’ve had too much to drink, I guess.”
“Okay, that’s fair. I become a horny son of a bitch when I’m drunk, if that’s any consolation.” I volunteer, wiping the tears off her cheeks with my thumbs.
“Jagger?”
“Yes, beautiful.” I answer, leaning my chin on the bed, so we’re almost eye-to-eye.
“Please sleep next to me.”
The hard-on left the second she started crying. “Fine. But I’m keeping my clothes on.”
“I don’t care.”
I climb in next to her after removing my jacket, tie and shoes. She’s almost asleep as I pull the sheets over me, but I still keep my distance. I don’t trust myself, as I leave the light on in case she has to hurl and I need to make sure she doesn’t drown in it.
...surprisingly, I sleep.
...until I’m jolted out of bed.
Chapter 13
Bowie
Myheadpoundingisonly exacerbated by the phone ringing. “God!” I gasp aloud, holding my head, as I sit up in bed. It’s freezing in here, I smell like puke, and I don’t remember anything beyond sitting at the dinner table last night, talking to Wesley about old school combustion engines. The phone won’t stop ringing, so I pick it up. “Hello?” I say groggily, noticing that there is a pair of dress pants, a shirt, and basically an entire man’s suit, on the floor, and my eyes widen.
“Ma’am, I’m just calling to inform you that your car will be there to pick you up in thirty minutes.”
“Okay. Thank you.” I say and hang up the phone.
My first thought is that I did the stupidest thing ever and slept with Wesley. That would be career death right there. The thought sickens me, but somehow, I feel like my stomach is completely empty. Judging by the scent filling the room, I’d say that it is. That’s when I hear the door beep and I flip out, wondering who the hell is coming into my room. Jagger sees me and raises a hand. “Relax. It’s just me.”
I’ve pulled the sheets up to my neck, realizing that I’m completely naked under here. “Shit! Shit! What did I do?” I panic.
“You...got drunk. Very drunk. That thing you smell? Drunk.” He chuckles kindly. “You asked me to sleep with you, in the literal sense and the other, so I ended up sleeping right there next to you. Until you started tossing your cookies, and that’s when I realized that every man has a limit.”
