know?”
“Agreed,” he said. “And good for you.”
He didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive.
When Liam dropped me at the house, I found Cary in the studio. He got to his feet as I staggered in. He’d been playing guitar on the couch by the window, with the drapes open, but he set the acoustic aside as his eyes drank me in, head-to-toe.
“You. Are. In. Trouble,” I said, shedding my purse and my shoes as I crossed the room.
“What? Why?”
I walked past him, heading straight for the alcove and his bed. “Because you should never tell a drunk girl to send you a pic of her pussy.”
He smirked, following my drunken, weaving path across the room as I squirmed out of my dress. “Why the hell not?”
“Because then she tells her drunk best friend to do the same thing.” I tossed the dress at him. I vaguely remembered that I had no panties on, which meant I was now naked except for my bra.
“Uh, you asked Danica to send me a picture of her—”
“No. I told her to send one to her husband, obviously.” I stopped at the bed and spun to face him. “But because she’s too drunk to properly operate a device as complicated as a phone right now, she sent it to the wrong man.” I plunked down on the bed.
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. Oh, shit.” I started wrestling with my bra, trying to take it off. “And now she’s mortified and you are in trouble.”
He stood in front of me, watching me fight with the bra and lose. It had a halter back and for some reason it was completely besting me right now. “How is this my fault?” he inquired.
“It was your idea.”
“Hey, I never told Danica to send a picture of her pussy to anyone,” he said, sounding way too amused. “That was all you, babe.”
“Ugh.” I slapped a hand over my face, giving up on my bra.
He sat down next to me. “Can I help? Who did she send it to? Can we intercept it somehow?”
“You know text messages are instant, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m a secret spy, remember?”
I smiled at him.
“Maybe I can pay Dean to climb in his window,” he said, “and steal his phone, erase it, and put it back before he’s ever the wiser.”
“That’s kinda sweet,” I said, sighing. “But it’s too late. He already saw it. I called him and told him to delete it. Do you think he will?”
“Uh. Honestly… I don’t know.”
“Why would a guy keep an unsolicited pic of a woman’s pussy on his phone that she sent to him accidentally??” I practically shouted.
“Hey, I don’t know. I’m just saying. Guys are pigs. We like pussy. And… finders keepers, right?”
My jaw dropped.
Cary grinned. Then he started laughing.
“Is this funny to you?”
“Maybe. Who did she send it to, anyway?”
“None… of your… business…” I said, poking him in the chest with each word, driving him back until he fell back on the bed. I climbed over him. “You… are… naughty…” I poked my way down his stomach toward his pants as I straddled him.
“You… are… naked…” he said as I unbuttoned his jeans.
“No, I’m not. I couldn’t get my bra off. It’s impossible.”
“Let me help you with that.” He unhooked the bra and peeled it off over my head.
“That was very sober of you.”
He grinned.
“You’re very smiley tonight,” I told him.
“Come here.” He tugged me gently toward him and I leaned down over him so our lips could meet. I was naked on top of him and he was still dressed. I didn’t like it.
I squirmed, trying to shove his jeans down enough to get at his cock. I slid my hand down over the smooth head and gripped his hard shaft.
“Yeah, Taylor,” he groaned. “Touch me. Show me what you want…” He kept talking dirty as we made out and I peeled his clothes off to get at all the good stuff. His hard chest. His lean abs. His sexy hips. I licked the lines of his long, lean muscles as I went. “Yeah… fuck… I want to slide deep inside you and fuck you slowly, until you come all over me…”
Usually, he was pretty vocal and bossy during sex. I liked it.
I kinda noticed though, even drunk—or maybe especially because I was drunk?—that he wasn’t all that vocal about much else. Music; he was vocal about that. But we never talked much about his issues.
I tried not to let it bother me, but it was bothering