A smile breaks across her face. She leans her shoulder on the glass, her heavy breathing matching mine as we come down from the high. She doesn’t move to cover herself, which I really like, and the way she raises her eyebrow tells me I might be in for trouble with this girl. “Well, Muscles, you fucked me like a storm. Now treat me like a lady and clean me up.”
7 Hayden
It’s the pitter-patter of ran hitting the window that Keith fucked me against last night that wakes me. I rub my eyes, my body pleasantly sore as I stretch, and glance towards the sleeping man beside me.
Even with the gray sky outside and dim lights inside, I can make out the angles of his handsome face and the rise and fall of his rock-hard chest. I stifle a yawn as I sit up, realizing I stole all of the blankets during the night.
It’s abadidea trying to be vertical. The liquor I consumed last night does a somersault inside me, and I don't know if I want to vomit again or bury my head in the sheets. Sex curbed the effects of the liquor for a while, giving me an outlet, but now that it’s morning all the mixology I indulged in is duking it out in my stomach. I grunt and press my hands to my head, a killer headache working its way all around my skull. I’m definitely regretting that party last night.
But not where it led me. Without bad decisions, I wouldn’t have met Keith. I probably would have partied and slept with one of the local guys, which meant I never would have met Keith on that lonely highway road.
Drinking didn’t just give me courage. It muddled my senses and let me make the idiotic mistake of getting into the trunk because Lisa thought it would be a good idea.
My mouth is bone dry, and even though Keith gave me some water and crackers after we cleaned up, I barely touched either before stumbling into bed and passing out. Last night was a lot, and I needed sleep above all else.
My phone flashes beside me, and I forgot that he brought my things in here before we bathed. Keith in the bathroom was just as fun as Keith against the fucking window, and the soreness between my legs is a welcome reminder of this adventure.
The light hurts my eyes but I click on the notifications on my phone anyway, eyeing a message from my sister. My parents haven’t blown up my phone after the storms last night, so I’m guessing dropping my location to her eased her mind enough to cover for me. If not, I would have plenty of missed calls by now.
I send her another location drop, letting her know that I’m alive and well, and try to close my eyes again against the raging headache. How I wish I had paced myself better.
Squirming down in the messy sheets, I roll back and forth. I’m not usually this restless, but between the massive headache and the realization that it’s morning I can’t lay still. That contract Keith handed me yesterday seemed like a one-night-stand kind of thing. Is he expecting me to be gone already?
“You move a lot in the mornings,” Keith grumbles, his voice heavy with sleep. “Snuggle in, Hayden. No rush.”
I nibble my lip but keep my eyes closed. It’ll hurt too much to open them up again anyway. “You… don’t expect me to get up and go?”
He groans, and I squeeze my eyes shut harder because now it’s really tempting to look at him. I shouldn’t show my insecuritieslike this to a near stranger. It’s harder to be honest with my feelings than my lust.
Keith’s hand lands on my arm, and despite myself I relax into the touch. He hasn’t given me a reason to not trust him yet. “Rejection doesn’t look good on you, girly. I’m not going to kick you out at the crack of dawn.”
I almost retort that it seems like we’re past the break of dawn, but bite my tongue instead. He sounds tired and maybe slightly annoyed, but not grouchy. “I just thought with the contract—”
“The contract is there to ensure we both understand this is meant to be fun,” Keith cuts in, and I feel his hand sliding down into mine. “Just in case you wanted to suddenly live here or something.”
I snort. “In a bachelor pad? I’ll pass.”
Keith chuckles. “I don’t see you as a clingy type of girl, Hayden. Not from what I saw yesterday. The contract protects both of us, which is the point of the OGB existing. I’m not going to just shove you out the front door. Unless someone needs you right now, rest for a few more hours. Eat something. Maybe look around the house when you’re sober and can appreciate it.”
“Oh, boastful are we?” I ask dryly, but I can’t help but smile. It’s like the least cocky form of gloating I think I’ve ever heard. The house is nice, and huge, and I imagine it’s a point of pride for him. “I mean if you aren’t going to protest me snooping…”
“I won’t,” he says, but I feel him getting out of bed, his hand slipping from mine. That unease returns. “Rest. Eat toast. Drink water. Sleep some more. When you’re feeling better, I can take you anywhere you want to go.”
I bite my lip and nod instead, regretting the motion immediately. My poor head really wants to succumb to sleep again. Where I want to go ishere. I want to stay in this bed for the rest of the day and get dicked down by Keith again this evening. I’m not expecting commitment from a stranger I met during a storm. I just want a little more time to have fun.
But realistically, I’m hungover and tired and would kill for something more comfortable than tight jeans. I’d love to bathe with my sensitive skin products and all my hair care stuff. Things that I simply won’t find here.
Keith stays quiet, and I almost think he’s left the room until he speaks again. “I put some medicine on the table for your head. Eat before you take those. I have a few things I need to see to, but when you’re feeling better, we’ll head out.”
That feels like the beginning of goodbye. Keith is ready to cut ties, and I can’t say I blame him. Last night was fun, and hot, and it’s definitely going to remain in my head for a long time to come. But it doesn’t seem like he’s eager to play again. I can hear his footsteps retreating, and I lick my lips before responding into the silence. “Okay. See you soon.”
~~~
I figured Keith was done messing around after this morning, and when he doesn't come looking for me, it seems I was right. Still, the time alone gives me a chance to pull myself together. I take some meds, drink some water, eat a little, and slowly start to feel like myself again. I clean up, finally wiping away the smudged, caked-on makeup that's been clinging to my face. Untangling my hair and braiding it back gives me a small sense of control. By the time I head out to find him, I feel a bit more human.
The house is grand, parts of it looking more like a staged home for sale than a lived-in place. Before we passed out he mentioned having several homes. Maybe having multiples makes each space less personal to him. It’s beautiful but parts of the home are cold.
Exploring his house definitely feels like snooping, but he didn’t complain earlier when he was chasing me, so I take full advantage of it. The place has probably a dozen rooms and seems to be rancher style. I haven’t found a set of stairs anywhere, and I’ve done a fair bit of exploring. The backyard is kind of like a courtyard, with an expensive patio filled with furniture that luckily didn’t blow away during the storms.
