Page 25 of Revelry

“Ah, fuck,” I groan. When I try to duck my head, I discover two things: one, apparently I’ve lost my ever-loving mind because I appear to be straddling Cooper Ryan on the bottom bed of a bunk. And two, not only am I straddling him, but I’m also in nothing but a pair of panties and he is rock hard. I know this because said rock-hard penis is pushed firmly against my overeager beaver.

“Holy shit,” I say, and attempt to scramble off him, but I’m yanked back by the roots of my hair.

I scream, because on top of the almighty hangover I have, some arsehole is pulling my fucking hair out by the roots.

“Wait,” Cooper growls, and he grabs my hips with one hand, slamming my waist against his.

“Ow. Let go you fucking psycho.”

“Your hair is caught on the bed,” he says.

I stop struggling and go limp. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just … hold still.” He sits up, and his position brings us a new closeness. I gasp, as the hardness of him presses against the softness of me. He’s still in jeans. I feel the denim on the insides of my thighs, and thank god, because if he were naked I’m afraid I could not be held entirely responsible for my actions. Coop’s hands are careful and tentative as he works my hair away from the bed. My scalp prickles with relief when he slides his hands free.

“All done,” he whispers, and his warm breath washes over my breasts, my nipples forming two hard peaks. I send a prayer up to the universe that he won’t see, but the universe is a cock-sucking bitch that needs to choke on a rotten whale’s vagina because Coop’s gaze drops directly to my nip nips and he inhales sharply. Cooper’s hands cup my arse, squeezing my flesh and rocking me back and forward on top of him. My hips flex in time with his as I writhe on his lap. He presses a kiss to my breastbone. He’s not touching either boob yet, but the fact that his head is between them is … wow … and then I recover my sanity and come crashing back down to earth.Okay no!

“No!” I shout and scramble off of him, clobbering my head again on the underside of the top bunk. “We cannot do this. This cannot happen.”

“I agree,” he says, sliding out of the bed and standing opposite me.

“You agree? You were the one who was just getting ready to lick my boobs.”

“Okay, first of all, I don’t lick tits. I suck them, hard, if you’re lucky.”

“Yeah, well you are not allowed to touch me that way. Or look at me like that. And you’re definitely not allowed to have a huge fucking erection right now,” I shout, staring up at the ceiling because … holy hot cock, Batman.

“Afraid I can’t do much about that. It’ll stay that way until I take a piss or I fuck it out.”

“Okay, stop talking and cover that shit up.”

“Look who’s talking,” he says, tilting his chin towards me. I glance down at my body with a panicked expression and fold my arms across my chest. I have on black cotton panties, so there’s not a whole lot that needs to be covered there.

“What in the hell happened last night? And where are my clothes?”

“Your jeans are on the floor. And your T-shirt is probably still on the floor of Zed’s lounge room where you left it.”

“Oh god.” I rack my brain, trying to remember why I was taking off my clothes last night. This is why I can’t be trusted to smoke pot. “Did I spill something on them? Or set myself on fire?”

“Nope.”

I glare at him incredulously. “Well it’s not like I removed them voluntarily.”

“Actually you did, right about the time you were giving us a strip tease and attempting to pole dance.”

“Oh god.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what we were all thinking.”

“Fuck you.”

“I meant that as a compliment,” he says, and bends over to lift a shirt from the ground. He throws it at me and I catch it with one hand, flashing him even more nipple. I thread my arms through the holes and pull it down over my body. It smells like him, and I have this odd flashback to snuggling into the crook of his arm, our naked bodies pressing together.

“So, we didn’t …?”

“Nope,” he says, and then he frowns. “We were both pretty wasted though.”

“Oh, thank god.”

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