Page 59 of The Deadbeat Next Door

He pressed a warm kiss to my neck and my pulse sped up. “We can still be friends, though,” he said. “And like things about each other.”

“Sure.” Though liking things about him seemed dangerous when his hands on my ass made me want to wrap myself around him and not let go for several days.

“I mean it,” he said. “It was a shitty thing to say. Let me make it up to you.”

I laughed. “You’re wasted. Why don’t we go to bed and finish this conversation in the morning?”

“No. I fuck up everything. I want to fix this. Let me fix this.”

I was tired and I really didn’t have high expectations for his drunken prowess, but I was finding it difficult to say no to him. “Make it up to me in the morning.”

“No. I want you now.” He straightened, seeming to sober up in an instant. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed.” His voice took on a commanding tone that made me shiver with want.

I slid off my clothes and went to the bed. I pulled back the bedspread and sheets and sat. Cody knelt at my feet and pushed me back. “Lay down.”

I lay back and he lowered his face between my legs, he dragged his tongue over me in one long, slow stroke that had me moaning and gripping the sheets tight. He stopped moving, his head heavy on my thigh, his breath a teasing rhythm against my throbbing clit. “Cody,” I breathed. “Don’t tease me, please.”

He didn’t respond or move. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked down at him. His eyes were closed. I bounced my leg. “Cody wake up.” He didn’t budge.

I laughed and slid my leg out from under him. I lowered his head gently to the bed. I dressed in the nightshirt I’d brought to sleep in and set about trying to move him into bed. I got his shoes and belt off, but he was a big guy and I had no luck lifting him onto the bed. I tried again to wake him, but he was out cold. He was sitting up, his head against the bed and he didn’t look uncomfortable. As drunk as he was, it was probably better if he slept sitting up, anyway. I covered him with a throw blanket from the end of the bed and crawled under the covers.

I woke the next morning to sunlight and soft kisses on the back of my neck. A warm arm lay over my waist. “I’m sorry,” Cody said.

“For what?” I was almost certain he didn’t remember what had happened.

“Um, whatever got me kicked out of your bed.”

I twisted in his arms until I faced him. “I didn’t kick you out of bed. You fell asleep there mid-cunnilingus.”

His eyes widened and then closed to bare slits, pain wrinkling his forehead.

“Not feeling so good?”

“Like I was run over by a truck, kicked by a horse, and dragged through the mud.” He shuddered. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“Why do you do it?”

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “I’ve never fallen asleep in the middle of any kind of sex and I’m positive I wouldn’t fall asleep with your beautiful body spread before me.”

“Well, then you’d be positively wrong. What is it about your family that drives you to drink?”

He shrugged. “I don’t honestly know. My father was a social drinker and he made a big deal of drinking with us when we were of age. It just became the thing we did when we all got together. It might be time to drop the habit.”

I reached up and smoothed the wrinkle between his brows. “I’m going to get you some water and a couple aspirin. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, it’s because I got lost on the way to the kitchen.”

“There’s a bottle of water and a bottle of aspirin in my bag.”

I got him what he needed and left him to recover alone while I showered.

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