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“It’s cute you’re scared,” he says and grabs hold of me pulling me into his big powerful arms.

I tense at his sudden change of mood, my eyes widening into saucers as the warmth of his body wraps around my own. I open my mouth to argue I’m not scared but I am. I feel like a little kid asking her parents to sleep in their room because the storm outside is so loud. Having him wrapped around me as I sit in his lap, I can’t help but feel safer. His thumb traces little circles on my wrist and my pussy begins to throb from the skin contact. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by a strong man.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he seductively whispers into my ear.

“I mean, to feel safe, yes,” I clarify, wanting him to know he does not have an effect on me like the other hoes he’s been with. Even though he does.

“Mmm, that’s exactly what I was talking about. What else would I mean?” His voice gruff and hot against the back of my ear. He’s playing games with me. What would he have said if I turned myself around in his arms and mounted him?

Jesus, give me strength. I close my eyes, the storm outside as hostile as the sexual tension in this room. Lightning illuminates the room and the fridge across the room comes into sight. Drinks. Yes, I need something strong right now. It’ll distract us and keep us busy while the power is out. Unwrapping myself from Big Chief’s arms, I hurry to the fridge, open it and grab a bunch of the mini bottles.

“What are you doing?”

“Survival,” I insouciantly respond. Climbing back under the blankets, I scoot my ass across from him. Taking the sheet, he drapes it over his head and body, mimicking me with the comforter. Our cloaks protecting us from the storm and each other’s rising desire. The bottles clank as I try and read the labels in the dark, but I can’t really tell what is what.

“Give me one.” Big Chief takes the bottle from my hand and opens it. In one pull, he drinks the whole thing and makes a face.

“Tequila,” he croaks, tossing it to the end of the bed. I can’t help but giggle at his reaction.

I can’t help but giggle at his reaction. “Great, you’re going to get all emotional on me. That’s what tequila does to Piper and me.” Undoing the lid to another bottle, I take a large swig and my mouth fills with a sparkly sweet taste. “It’s a wine of some kind,” I inform before drinking the rest of it, the tartness coating my tongue.

“Classy.” He takes another bottle from my nest of booze I collected and drinks it. “I don’t even know what that was.” His voice thick with disgust and I crack up with laughter. He’s so funny, from the voices and facial expressions, I can’t help myself.

“Let’s play a game. Whatever bottle we drink is where we’d rather be.”

“Really?” He seems unamused, but what else do we have to do to entertain ourselves.

Opening a bottle, I take a swig, it’s sugary and smooth.

“Tequila, I think. So, Mexico.” I go first, making this game up as I go. “I could go for some Mexican food right now.” I purse my lips, twisting the bottle in my hand.

“Alright, I’ll play along.” He sits up and I cross my legs in front of me. He takes a drink and holds it up in the air. “This is definitely a whiskey. Jack Daniels, actually, so it would be Tennessee.”

“That’s where we are right now,” I remind him with disapproval. “No! No! Anywhere but here, drink another!” I grab a bottle just as lightning strikes outside, lighting up the room. It’s vodka. “Just for that, you have to go to cold cold Russia!” I put on the worst Russian accent anyone has ever heard and hand it to him, he downs as if he doesn’t drink it fast enough we’ll actually be stuck here.

He snorts, and liquid dribbles from his chin. I fall over onto the bed gasping for air, I’m out of breath from laughing so hard.

“Let me ask you something.” His tone goes serious and I sit up, suppressing my giggles. A warm buzz laces through my veins making me feel pretty relaxed right now. He could ask me anything and I’d tell him. Hopefully it’s nothing serious.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving LA?”

I open my mouth to reply, but then close it. Rubbing the side of my face that isn’t stitched up, I try to remember the night I took off. So much was going through my head but I remember actually wanting to tell Big Chief I was taking off. I don’t know why, I guess to see if he’d stop me or come with? Would I have stayed if he asked? I don’t know. I just know there was a friendship between us that had me at his bedroom door that night.

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