“No. No, ice cream. It’s not happening. Get the fuck up and get dressed. You don’t moon about over a guy, even if that guy is a fuckuva stud. What you do is get up, get your shit together and go the fuck out!”
Right. So we were going out. I could do that; drinks would help me sort out what I was doing with Mace. I kissed Teen on the cheek as I walked past to get ready. Half an hour later, we were in a cab on the way to Bob’s bar, already half-tanked.
Chapter Seven
My cell rang just after 1am. I picked it up from the coffee table in front of me. Scarlett’s name lit up on the display. “Babe?” I answered, wondering what the hell was wrong; I had seen her and her friend, who Trip had told me was Teeny, leave in a cab around 10:30 all dressed up.
“You’re a sexy face,” she slurred, a loud noise in the background.
“Are you drunk?” I asked slightly amused that she was drunk dialing me.
“Yeppers,” she giggled.
“How drunk are you?” I asked as I looked over at Trip, where he was slouched on the sofa silently laughing. I covered the mouthpiece on the phone and whispered, “Gonna go pick the girls up. Be ready when I get back. Thinking I’ll need some help.” He nodded, holding his stomach still laughing.
My attention was drawn back to the phone when Scarlett yelled, “Teeny! How drink are we?”
Chuckling, I ran a hand down my face. “Ah shit, where are you, babe?”
Scarlett yelled again, “Bob! Where are me?” Bingo! She had to be at Bob’s Bar. In a concerned whisper, she told me “Um, we went to drunk, Mace.”
I bit down on the inside of my mouth to curb the laughter bubbling up my throat. But it proved pointless after she said loudly, “You’re so pretty.”
Walking out to my truck, I could hear who I could only assume was Teeny, singing very badly in the background, “I’m a gonna go to studs-r-us, and buys myself a Mace. Noooo, not a Mace a Trip. Oh, where do all the hot guys live? At studs-r-us, yeah! OH HEY, studs-r-us…”
Scarlett’s voice cut into her song telling me, “I wanna lick your face, Mace—Ha! I made a funny, face-Mace, face-Mace. I rhymb-rhyms-I rhymed.”
Pulling my keys out, I started the engine and took off towards Bob’s. “You want to lick my face?” I asked her with amusement.
“No! Why would I do that?”
I coughed to hide my laughter and asked, “Babe, I’m almost there to get you. Can you and Teeny stay inside for me?”
This was initially met with a moment’s silence, then Scarlett yelling, “You make my vagina all melty—wait no!—You make my belly all melty. My vagina’s hot!”
I chuckled through my words, “It sure is, babe, but I’m not sure I want the entire bar knowing that.”
This girl is a fucking riot!
Scarlett sobered, and ever so seriously told me, “Oh, but they can't see it. Do you wanna see my vagina?”
Hearing her talk about her sweet pussy made me groan. “Babe, I'm pulling in to the bar’s parking lot now. Where are you?” I asked, jumping down from my truck and locking it.
“Teeny needed to pee,” she whisper-yelled down the phone.
“I’m hanging up the phone, babe. See you in a second.”
“Mm-kay,” she hiccupped down the phone.
Hanging up and slipping my cell into my back pocket, I pushed my way through the crowded bar. I headed toward the restrooms, when all of a sudden, I was knocked back a step by Scarlett jumping on my front and wrapping her jean-clad legs around my waist. My hands automatically went to her ass to hold her up. Scarlett was beyond drunk, but I couldn’t help be relieved that she was in my arms, plus she was a fucking hilarious happy drunk, not a crier or drama queen. She started sucking on my neck and grinding herself against my crotch.
“Ahh, Scar, babe, you need to not do that right now.” Shit, she was whimpering and squirming and her breathing had picked up. My dick wasn’t obeying my brain. Scar was way too drunk for this. I slid her down my body, holding her arms to steady her.
“Ready to go home, babe?”
“Yes prease, pwease, please,” she answered, apparently confused by the slur in her voice. “Oh, Teen’s staying at my place,” she hiccupped, her voice filled with drunken excitement.
I looked up as the restroom door swung open, and the second drunk in question stumbled out of the bathroom shoving her panties into her monstrous bag. Shaking my head, I dragged both girls out to my truck while they stumbled on their feet and dodged what they swore were talking trees.
“You’re so cute and sexy and big, and you give great head.” Scarlett looked up at me as I buckled her into the back cab beside Teeny. I chuckled lightly and planted a kiss on her forehead. I closed the door and took a second to shoot out a quick text message letting Trip know we were on the way home. I jumped in and started the engine. I was then treated to the funniest drunk conversation I’d ever heard.
“Mace gives great head, Teen. He does this thing with his tongue.” Scarlett swung around trying to point to her tongue, but her finger landed on her nose instead. “My nose! It’s gone! I can’t feel my nose, Teeny! I can’t feel my nose. Where is it?” she repeated, getting hysterical.
Shaking my head, I smirked.
“Maybe it’s in my purse? Here hold this,” Teeny excitedly replied.
“Teen,” she whispered, suddenly distracted from her numb nose, “how come your panties are in your bag?”
“I couldn’t get them back on after I peed,” she sighed.
“Oh! I left my panties at home; they were in the way,” Scarlett excitedly told Teeny.
Teeny reached over turning up the radio, and they both started singing along—screwing up the words as they went. “I can’t forget the semen on your face as you were leavin’”
Trying not to laugh at the serious look on their faces, I leaned forward and switched the station. Mariah Carey cut off abruptly, replaced by R.E.M and Scarlett went for it again, belting it out at the top of her lungs, “Let’s pee in the corner. Let’s pee in the spotlight, losing my direction!”
Unable to hold my laughter in any longer, I switched the radio off just before turning onto our street. We pulled up to Trip standing in Scarlett’s drive. He opened the passenger door, helped Scarlett down, and without saying a word, grabbed Teeny out, threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, and stomped back to our place.
Teeny was cussing, yelling and slapping at his back to put her down. Trip just waved at me over his shoulder. I figured he’d sort Teeny.
I had managed to get Scarlett’s keys from her, unlocked the door and maneuvered her inside when she pushed me. Taken by surprise, I stumbled back into a sitting position on the red leather sofa. She dropped to her knees and started trying to undo my belt buckle while looking up at me giggling. “I wanna lick you all up.”
The sight gave me an instant boner, but I couldn’t take advantage, even though the temptation of her mouth on my cock was ranking pretty high. Gently as I could, I pushed her hands away and suggested, “How about we get you up to bed, yeah?”
“Can I lick you up there?” she persisted with a pout.
Just as I was about to answer, she leaned forward, turned a miraculous shade of green and puked right in my lap.
Rum—Fucking superb.
I carried her upstairs and headed to her bedroom. After placing her on her bed, I went and grabbed a wash cloth and gently wiped her face with warm water. Somehow, I managed to find it in me to chuckle as I wiped the sick from her chin. I knew tomorrow would be fun when I retold this story to her.
I managed to get her sitting up on the edge of the bed, giving me enough time to quickly remove my vomit-laced jeans and throw them to the floor. I grabbed a tank for her to sleep in, then removed her hip-hugging jeans and halter top. Once I laid her down in bed, she reached up, stroked my face and babbled, “You were just supposed to be a one night stand but you poked my eye, and kissed me sweet and listened to my car. Now, I kinda wanna keep you.”
Then she promptly passed out.
Chapter Eight
I was sitting outside on my small deck with a cup of coffee contemplating just what the hell to do. Not only about the Mace situation, but my display of pure dumbassery the previous night.
Way to go dipshit. Nothing better than drunken girl vomit.
When there was a knock on the door, I answered, knowing it would be Mace to pick me up for his Mother’s Sunday lunch. It had taken the better part of the morning to get my stomach to stop rolling and my head to stop pounding as if a marching band had taken up residence. I wasn’t sure whether Mace would even show up, let alone if I would go with him. If somebody had drunk dialed me, I would have been super peed off, but even worse, had said person puked on me, I would have run away so fast there’d be flames behind me and smoke coming from my thighs.
I was contemplating what to do—of course I would apologize. It was when I’d gotten a text from Mace telling me to bring a bathing suit, and that Trip had taken Teeny home to get changed and would be bringing her along. It was at that point, I’d decided that I needed to make my intentions with him perfectly clear. I also knew I was who I was. I was just me. I did stupid shit, and I did it often. If Mace didn’t like it, well too damn bad, and besides, it wasn’t like it mattered. This thing—us—it was just a bit of fun. Naked fun at that, so that meant the dating shit had to stop and pronto. There was no need for feelings to be involved. I knew from personal experience how badly it could go when you started doing stupid things like falling for somebody.
I opened the door to Mace. A smile played on his lips. Wearing black and white printed board shorts and a white T-shirt pulled tight over his chest and arms, the sight of him standing, looking so irresistible, made my mouth water.
“Come in. I’ll just grab my things and we can leave,” I managed to say without checking my chin for drool. I turned away avoiding his gaze. Okay, so I was a little tiny bit embarrassed.
“Scarlett, look at me,” he said, amusement lacing his voice.
“About last night, I—”
Mace cut me off mid apology. “Babe, don’t worry about it. You were drunk and kinda cute.”
“I puked on you, Mace. That’s really gross and I’d be super pissed if it was me, so, I’m sorry.”
“Scar, come here,” he said on a laugh.
I hadn’t moved; the sight of him laughing had me glued to the spot. His face completely transformed with the laughter; it was a look so completely different from the way he usually held himself, like for a moment, he’d let go of whatever it was that hurt within.
There I stood, just staring at his amazing blue eyes, the sound of his amusement stirring something inside of me, warming my stomach. Mace had a fantastic laugh, all deep and rumbly.
“Here, babe” The slightly commanding tone in his voice had me moving that time. It would have made me want to do anything he asked of me. That in turn annoyed me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I wasn’t a little play thing, a puppy he could command just because it turned me on. Shit—I was turning into one of those chicks—I hated those chicks. The type who chased after their guy. The thought pulled me up short. He wasn’t my guy, not even close; I had to make that crystal clear immediately.
