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I bite back my smirk. “Let’s go home.”
“Nope.” Her tongue sweeps over my lips, and my cock twitches in appreciation. “Let’s go out. I want to dance with my man.”
An unexpected thrill runs through me at her calling me her man, and I lick my bottom lip, my eyes holding hers. “Then let’s go out.”
We walk out of the art gallery and text our friends to let them know we are leaving.
I open the door of my car and she glides in, leaving me to run around to the driver side and get in beside her.
She puts her hand on my cock as I start the engine, and I inhale sharply, trying to reverse out of the car park.
The adrenaline is still pumping through my body.
“Julian.”
I glance over at her.
“Drive it like you stole it.”
I drop the clutch, hitting high speed in first gear, and I glance over to her. “Then, I’m going to fuck you like I hate you.”
She laughs a husky laugh, and for the first time in a long time… I feel alive.
After a hot and heavy make-out session in my car, we stumble into a bar half an hour later. It's small, out of the way, and there's a lady singing a Lady Gaga tribute song, putting on a whole show. Bree walks to the bar and leans over it, resting on her elbows.
“What will it be?” the barman asks.
She smiles mischievously and looks up at the drinks board. “We’ll have four tequilas and four margaritas, please.”
I frown over at her but all I see are her eyes dancing with delight. “Let’s get fucked up.”
“Oh no,” croaks a scratchy voice. “Jules.”
Huh? My eyelashes flutter as I try to open my heavy eyelids.
The room begins to spin, and nausea rolls my stomach. “What the fuck?” I whisper. My voice is hoarse and barely there.
I look around to find we are on the living room floor. Bree looks over at me and giggles. I frown and put my head back down on the carpet with a thud. “Oh… my God. What the hell happened?”
She gets up slowly, resting onto her elbows.
Just the sight of her has me smile “Look at you,” I say.
She looks down at herself, and then back ever to me. “Oh no.”
She’s completely naked and has my tie tied around her head like a sweatband. Her hair is wild and loose. I drag myself up to a seated position, too, and she bursts out laughing. Something hangs in front of my eyes and I bat it away. “What’s that?”
Bree laughs loudly as she looks over at me. I glance down at myself. I’m wearing one sock and I have her gold beads tied around my head like a sweatband.
I lick my sandpaper lips. “My mouth’s so dry,” I groan.
I drag myself up to get two glasses of water, returning to the living room as quickly as I can. I pass her her drink, and it's then that I notice the room is destroyed. The sofa is pushed against the walls and there are crisps scattered all over the carpet. A bottle of scotch is spilt all over the coffee table. I pinch the bridge of my nose. "This is like that fucking Hangover movie."
Brielle downs her glass of water in one go before she stands and moves to stand beside me. She kisses me as she smiles against my lips. “I had a good night.” She pauses and then narrows her eyes. “I think.”
I frown as I get a vision of us dirty dancing to the song Poker Face. Where was that?
She picks up her phone from the coffee table and snaps a selfie of the two of us just as I hit the beads tied around my head out of the way.
