Forget Me Not - Felice Stevens Page 0,13

forgot the man was married and had a child. All he could think about was how good that whiskey-flavored tongue tasted. How hard Jake’s erection was poking into him. He groaned and slid his tongue inside Jake’s mouth.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck me.” Jake’s hands fumbled with his button fly, and at his touch, Shea was wrenched back to reality.

What in the ever-loving hell was he doing?

He thrust Jake off him. The man stood bewildered and swaying, eyes blinking rapidly and growing shiny. Oh, hell no. This was about to go south real fast. Shea had never slept with a guest and wasn’t about to start now. Especially when the man was stinking drunk and emotional. Oh, yeah—and married, too. Didn’t matter how tempting Jake was, having sex with him now would make Shea the biggest kind of hypocrite.

“Whass wrong?” Slurring, Jake stumbled toward him, and Shea caught him before he fell facedown at his feet.

“Time to go to bed.”

“Don’ you wanme?” Jake whined, flopping on the bed. Shea pulled off his loafers and rolled him to the center so he wouldn’t fall on the floor.

“You’re gonna have one beaut of a hangover tomorrow, my friend. Go to sleep.”

“Mmmph.” Jake clutched the pillow, and soon Shea heard his soft snores.

As a courtesy, since he didn’t want Jake to get in trouble at work, Shea set the alarm on the clock radio for six thirty and put the ringer on the highest level. He left the room, shutting the door behind him, but remained standing in the hall for several minutes before shaking his head and walking to the other side of the ranch to the family quarters and his apartment. He undressed and got into bed but couldn’t sleep.

It was going to be a hard three days.

Chapter Four

“Just let me die. It’s okay.”

Jake swallowed two more aspirin for a total of four that morning already. His hell had begun when a loud alarm blared, waking him up. He rolled over, hit his head on the nightstand, and saw stars.

When he stood, the room promptly spun upside down, and Jake managed to make it to the bathroom in time to empty his stomach. Nothing says “It’s a beautiful morning” like throwing up from drinking yourself into oblivion the night before. He scowled at his washed-out reflection in the mirror and brushed his teeth.

But it wasn’t a total blackout. He recalled the cowboy’s—Shea’s—strong arm holding him up as they walked, and his warm, heavy body reaching over him to buckle his seat belt. Jake could’ve sat there all night, drenched in the smell of him. What else did he do…? The walk from outside to his room was a blur, and Jake grew cold, wondering if he’d embarrassed himself. Of course he had. Look how drunk he’d gotten.

“You goddamn jerk. He had to bring you to your room and put you in bed. Get your shit together.”

First things first: a hot shower to clear his head. Jake stood under the strong spray and let the aspirin seep through his bloodstream, easing the brutal ache of his hangover.

What the hell was wrong with him? He rarely had more than one drink. Three whiskeys in that short a time? He was lucky he didn’t lose it all over Shea’s truck. The cowboy had a heart of gold, and as Jake dried himself off and dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt—what he assumed was dude-ranch appropriate—he made a mental note not to forget to find the owner and sing Shea’s praises.

Then he’d have to find the cowboy and apologize for himself.

A cowboy and an underwear model. God. Peak orgasm potential.

Feeling a bit more human, Jake pocketed his wallet, card key, and phone and left his room in search of coffee. He spotted two members of his group in the main room, and thankfully they were his friends.

“Glad you got in okay. Good flight?” Erica Ling gave him a hug. People were always surprised when meeting Erica for the first time and learning the breadth and scope of her responsibilities. They hardly expected the Chief Investment Officer of Precision’s North American branches to be in her midthirties and certainly not a five-foot-two woman. But Jake enjoyed hearing Erica use her sharp mind and wit, and by the time she finished her presentations, more often than not she walked away with individuals and groups begging her to take their millions of dollars.

“Yeah. Just a little tired. Once I have some coffee, I’ll be fine.”

“I hear you.”

“Ready to ride

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