for the life that could have been mine.”
“You are drunk, though.”
He leans in closer to me, his voice slurring as he says, “That may be the truest thing you ever said, sir. I am pretty drunk. But not so drunk that I don’t know that I. Am. Fine!” He lets out a deep breath and I get a strong whiff of tequilla. “Hey, Mr. Sexy Beard Man?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I touch your beardy beard?”
I shrug. “Sure, why not.”
He lifts a hand and gently runs his fingers over the beard that, much to my mom’s disappointment, I’ve decided not to trim for my brother’s big day.
“It’s spongey,” Adorable Drunk Guy says, his tone curious as he continues to explore.
I’m not going to lie, I enjoy the way it feels, which is why I let it go on for so long. Maybe if I’d stopped it earlier we wouldn’t have ended up where we are now—with his lips on mine.
I should push him away; I know I should. He’s drunk and I’m…well, I don’t really know what I am. But he deserves better than to be my experiment, especially considering he already seems to be going through something tough right now.
The problem is, once his lips touch mine I can’t seem to bring myself to pull away. Instead, I open my mouth and deepen the kiss, slipping my tongue in to twine with his. He groans against my lips and I can’t stop myself from reaching out and taking a grip of his dark hair, pulling him even closer toward me.
“Do you know you have a tongue ring?” He murmurs when we finally break apart.
I nod. “Yes. I was there when they put it in.”
“I bet that’d feel awesome against my cock.”
Jesus Christ. And now I’m imagining what it’d be like to just tug down those jeans he’s wearing and take his cock in my mouth right here at the fucking bar. I’ve never actually gotten that far with a guy before, but this guy is making me really, really want to. There’s just one problem though…
“I’m not sure that’d be feasible in your current state, man,” I say with a chuckle.
“If you’re talking about me getting hard, that’s not a problem.” He grabs my hand and places it at his crotch, allowing me to feel what is an unmistakeable hard-on.
Somehow, I end up with my mouth on his again, our tongues once more engaged in a desperate, needy battle. I’m so tempted to take it further, but I know I have to be the sensible one here. That’s not a characteristic I’d often apply to myself, but even I have my limits.
“Okay,” I say a little breathlessly, breaking the kiss. “I think it’s time to get you to your room.”
He nods. “So we can have sex.”
I give a wry shake of my head. “So you can sleep this off. Sorry, babe—I’m not doing anything with someone this drunk.”
“I’m totally fine. I’m not even drunk anymore.” As he says that, he steps down off his stool and stumbles so bad I have to hold out my arms to catch him.
“Uh huh.”
I throw down some money on the bar and lead him out of there and to the elevators.
As soon as we get inside, he turns to me. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Your room. No sex. More kissing…and then sex once you’re satisfied I’m not too drunk.”
I smile wryly at him. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.” But it’s only because I’m about ninety percent sure he’ll fall asleep as soon as his head hits the mattress anyway.
People should definitely pay me money to access my powers of precognition. As preditcted, as soon as he got into bed, Adorable Drunk Guy fell right asleep. And it was of course at that moment I realized we never managed to exchange names.
It’s morning now and I’m watching him sleep, like a creeper in a teenage vampire book. I have no fucking clue why. I’ve only ever felt the attraction to guys a handful of times over the years, and it’s usually so mild I can push it away without really bothering to assess it too closely. But this is definitely not what I’d consider mild. This guy’s a perfect stranger—I don’t even know his name for fuck’s sake—and yet I can’t help but run through a mental replay of those kisses we shared last night, and I know if he wakes up and wants to take things further I won’t be saying no.
“Are you