“Yeah…this was a mistake,” she says.
Ouch. I’ve never heard that one before. Maybe she really is unimpressed. Then again, even wasted, I’d bet I’m still more skilled in bed than at least half the other guys at this school. This can’t be about the sex.
Which means it can only be about me.
Surely, she isn’t a Repeat, although that would certainly explain the hostility radiating off her like heat, the visible tension in her shoulders, and the hatred burning in her stunning green eyes. I hope I’m wrong. Drunk Me knows better than to make the amateur mistake of fucking the same woman twice. Repeat sex leads to feelings (on their part), and feelings always lead to someone getting hurt (again, on their part), and I don’thave the time or patience for that bullshit drama in my life. I have zero interest in being tied down by a girlfriend, and just want to enjoy my senior year at Conwick before I swap campus life for a corporate one.
Can’t a guy just want some meaningless sex without the expectation of commitment?
Besides, why would I want a girlfriend when there are so many tempting fish in the sea? Tempting fish like Blondie, who blows out a loud breath through her nose and plants her hands on her hips, giving me a sour look that one could easily mistake for disgust. Maybe she’s nauseated? Shedoeslook a little pale.
Yeah, I’ve definitely never gottenthatlook before.
“I think it would be best if we just pretend this never happened, and go our separate ways,” she states in a matter-of-fact tone, then adds with an almost impressive malevolence, “That shouldn’t be too hard for you.” She glares at me, her gaze molten, a scowl on her lips, and it takes all the self-restraint I have not to laugh.
Usually, I’m the one giving this talk to whatever unsuspecting lady Drunk Me brought home so they don’t try to make me breakfast in bed and corner me into becoming their boyfriend—an all-too-frequent occurrence since the day I first set foot on this campus. It’s tiring fending off such advances at times, but necessary; I’m in no state for commitment at the moment, and if I do ever settle down, it certainly won’t be with some money-hungry college chick looking for a rich future husband.
But this? This is a first. No one has ever tried to blowmeoff before, and I’m not sure if I should be relieved or insulted.
I give her a quick once-over with narrowed, roaming eyes.
Blondie, you have piqued my interest.
“Sure thing, random girl I just met. Although”—I tap a finger against my bottom lip—“can you technically forget somethingyou don’t remember? I had alotto drink last night. Or maybe…you just weren’t very memorable?” With a playful grin, I pat the soft mattress beside me, tracing inviting circles on the sheet with my palm. “Care to come back to bed and help me figure out which it is?”
Hey, it’s not really a repeat hook-up if she hasn’t even left my place yet, right? A second round would just be part two of what we already started.
My cock takes notice of the attractive flush painting her skin and the way she chews her bottom lip, as if to hold back some biting comment. Fuck, she’s incredibly sexy when angry.
She sneers. “Wow, calm down, Rico Suave. Jesus, you’re an even bigger asshole than I thought.”
I snort. “I’mthe asshole? You’re the one lumping all Latinos together. All Spanish-speaking people aren’t the same, you know.”
“I…what?” She blinks, those beautiful eyes growing round with confusion. “I didn’t—I mean, I wasn’t…”
A smirk tugs at the edges of my lips as she fumbles her words. “Rico Suave? The guy who sang that song is Ecuadorian, whereasI’mMexican. Well, half Mexican if we’re being exact, but that’s beside the point. Anyway, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you were referring to my sexual prowess with that reference and not my ethnicity, in which case”—my mouth curls into a smug Cheshire cat grin—“thanks for the compliment.”
Contempt wipes the shock from her face, and the muscle in her jaw pops when she clenches her teeth. Chuckling softly, I sink back into my pillow, hiding my disappointment behind an all-too-familiar wall of indifference. And here I was really hoping for a little morning pick-me-up. Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come? More like Ghost of Christmas Enjoy The Blue Balls. Oh, well. I’ll just have to jerk off in the shower after she leaves.“Hey, you’re the one who said this was a mistake. You can’t fault me for proving you right.”
Scoffing, Blondie turns on her heel and struts off, stalking toward the apartment door with fury dominating her steps…though not before bumping into the door frame on her way out of the bedroom, tripping, and nearly falling flat on her face. A startled expression warps her features as she catches herself, transforming into another glare when she straightens and glowers at the wall as if it somehow jumped in her way. When I fail to stifle my laugh at her reaction, she turns that glare back on me, huffing like an angry bull, then resumes her forward march.
This time, I can’t hold back my laughter. Is she still drunk, or is she normally this gravitationally impaired?
Usually, I wouldn’t chase after a woman. No one is worth the time or energy needed to pursue them, not when anger is involved and said anger is directed at me. And especially when there will always be another, more amiable conquest waiting to replace them. But this one…there’s something about her negative reaction to fucking me that has me intrigued. And I suppose I’m a little concerned about her ability to get home unharmed if she can’t even safely make it out of this bedroom. When it comes to human decency, I’m roughly ten percent gentleman, but on the sex side, I’m one hundred percent generous lover, and call it market research or masochism, but I need to know what I did wrong, and I can’t find that out if she trips and plummets down the stairs to her untimely death on her way out of the building. Plus, I can’t risk her ruining my reputation with the entire school year still before me. Think of all the one-night stands I’d miss out on.
“Whoa, whoa, hey, wait a minute.”
As I leap up from the bed, the sheet and blanket both slip away, exposing me in all my naked glory. I don’t stop to grab my underwear or anything to cover myself, instead racing bare-assed toward the door, jumping in front of my sexy stranger, and blocking the exit like a petulant child. She stops mid-step, and another exasperated huff slips past her lips, but her attention betrays her interest as it focuses on my still erect cock, as if she can’t resist a final glance. Maybe she’s even thinking about the way I was buried inside her last night.
I grin when her cheeks burn apple red.
Meeting my gaze, she sneers at me before averting her eyes again. “Get out of my way, Damian.”
“So, youdoknow me.” Then again, who at this school doesn’t? As the eldest son of a billionaire CEO and heir to the country’s largest pharmaceutical company, it would almost be harder tonotknow who I am. My face has graced tabloid covers and internet gossip pages since I was fifteen years old—or maybe that’s just when I first began to notice it—with articles ranging from what I’ll do with my birthright to who I’m supposedly dating, like I’m a Kardashian or one of David Beckham’s kids or something. I’m what you’d call a “catch,” especially now that I’m old enough to be classed as an eligible bachelor, which has pretty much turned everyone around me into a hungry piranha. Women. The paparazzi. They devour any scrap of news they can get about me. I’m this generation’s Paris Hilton or, in terms of media interest and scrutiny in regard to my love life, Leonardo DiCaprio—minus the acting career and respectable boner for global warming. We’re hot and rich, and the fact is that hot, rich people tend to get lots of attention.
And yet, something tells me my family’s wealth and status isn’t how Blondie here knows me. I don’t even think she’s interested in my bachelorhood since, at the moment, she looks to be anything other than hungry. She actually appears a bit queasy.
When she doesn’t respond, I continue to prod her. “The better question is: how do I know you? Other than from last night.” I flash her a salacious smile.
