Page 5 of Art of Love
His lips arched into a smooth, sexy smile. “Want some company?” he added.
I nodded slowly. Thank God, I wasn’t stupid enough to turn him down.
Chapter 2
Hunter
***
You know what was betterthan having to wallow in sorrow by yourself?
Having company.
Not that I wished badly on people or that I took pleasure in other’s misfortune. It was just that being depressed with company definitely beat being depressed by myself.
A bottle of wine... nope, we were on the second, made it so much better.
And the cherry on top was the beautiful woman sitting in my lap. The gorgeous brunette, with her thick wavy, silky hair that hung down her shoulders in loose tendrils cascading down her fully rounded breasts.
I came here to get wasted, and this idea of mine got a fuck of a lot better when I stepped in this place and my eyes landed on her.
“Brad, this wine tastes better than mine. I can’t remember what mine was.” She cooed, snuggling closer to me and pushing her breasts into my chest.
“Hunter,” I corrected her again for the umpteenth time.
She’d taken to calling me Brad as inBrad Pitt, Brad. It wasn’t the first time I’d been called that, but this was probably the funniest time because at first, she was apologetic for getting my name wrong, but then, as she drank more, it seemed to stay in her mind.
“Yes, I know you hunted in the film.”
“Okay.” Best to agree with her.
She gave me a sweet smile that made her bright brown eyes sparkle. But when I looked at her, I could tell straight away that while she looked awake and alert, her mind was gone. Elsewhere.
She wasn’t just wasted, she was plastered.
Back home we would call this look pissed out of her mind.
