According to her friend, Mazey’s wardrobe filled with jeans and shorts just didn’t do it for the night she had planned for them. So when Alyssa turned up at her house a few hours ago, it was with a full contingent of outfits.
Each one more risqué than the last.
The little black dress she currently wore had been the tamest of the bunch. And that was saying something because the hem finished just below her crotch. She was sure her ass was hanging out at the back, and the top dipped low enough to reveal a bit more cleavage than Mazey liked.
Not that she had much.
Although Alyssa had fixed that with a padded pushup bra made of see-through black lace. Mazey had never had so much boob. She glanced down for another peek at said boobage. Even she was enamored with the plump swells and deep valley on her chest.
How had Alyssa convinced her to leave the house dressed like a high-priced hooker?
Mazey sipped her drink. Oh yeah. Alcohol.
Lots and lots of alcohol.
The glass in her hand was number?
Shit. She’d lost count.
Water. She needed water.
“Here.” A bottle of water dropped into view from above.
Wow. That was a neat trick. Wish, and you shall receive.
Wait, there were fingers wrapped around the bottle.
Glancing up, she found a very familiar forearm and tipping her head back to rest on the hard body behind her, she found an equally familiar face. All be it upside down. She grinned. “Hi.”
“Why, Mazey Novak, are you drunk?” Rylan asked with a huge frown. No, wait. His face was upside, so that was a grin.
Giggling around a “Yep,” she nodded and instantly wished she hadn’t. “Wow. The floor is moving. Is it an earthquake?”
Rylan used the hand not holding the water to grip her hip and tug her back against his solid, non-moving body. “Easy there. No earthquakes here. Just a drunk female.”
“It’s the heels,” she muttered, letting her body relax against him. “And the dress. Maybe the alcohol too.”
Chuckling Rylan waved the bottle in front of her face. “Drink some of this. It’ll help dilute the alcohol. Not sure what it will do for the dress or shoes.”
Alyssa bounced up next to them. “C’mon, this song is killer.” She grabbed Mazey’s hand and tried to pull her from Rylan’s grasp.
“Maz is sitting this one out.”
Her friend pouted before bopping off saying, “Fine, be a party pooper!”
Rylan’s laughter vibrated along her back, and she wiggled closer. Which, of course, meant her ass wiggled closer, and the hem of her dress wiggled higher, the hand low on her hip the only thing keeping her discreetly covered.
“Ease up there, Maz.” He leaned over her shoulder and pressed the water bottle to her lips. “Drink.”
There was nothing to do but obey his command. Opening her mouth, she let him tip the bottle up and did as she was told.
After she took several gulps, he said, “That’s a girl. Take some more.”
Did he hear the suggestiveness in his tone? And what about the hand on her hip? Was he squeezing her tighter? Were his fingertips brushing her pussy?
“I think you should give me that and take this.”
Rylan swiftly, and without any objection from her, swapped out her glass of sex on the/in the something-or-other and replaced it with a second bottle of water. Then he held the first bottle to her lips again.
