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Oh I remembered her all right. Legs that went on for miles and a list of conquests that went on even further. Pretty hard to forget when you were the first one she checked off her list freshman year. “The tight blonde from Econ 101,” I nodded. Like it even mattered what class we’d shared together.
“That’s the one. She just got married this past weekend.” He subtly glanced over at me with mischief churning in his eyes.
Now that was surprising to hear. “And I should care because…” I trailed off, but I had to admit, I was curious to see why he was acting so coy about it.
“Because…” He began stuffing the brightly colored banana hammocks, which lucky for me still had the tags attached, into a small duffle bag and shoved them against my chest. “I bagged her and the maid of honor two weeks ago.”
Unbelievable… Wait, no, I could definitely believe that. He wasn’t nicknamed the Prince of Pussy for nothing.
“You’re a class act, man. If only Martha Hayes knew about your extracurricular activities.”
He slowly turned to me, all of the previous humor lost from the expression now frozen on his face. “You speak one word of this to my mom, and so help me…”
“You’ll what?” I folded my arms across my chest. “’Cause the way I see it, you’ve got a lot more to lose here than I do.”
“Fine.” He hung his head and sighed in defeat. “Look, do me this one solid, and I promise I’ll never ask you again. It’s just one night.” The playful smile slowly returned. “What could possibly go wrong?”
I mulled that over, and as much as I hated to admit it, Bryce was right. I had nothing to lose…other than my dignity. Still, I wasn’t ready to cave so easily, and if I was going to agree to this ridiculous charade tonight, I was going to milk it for all it’s worth.
“All right. I’ll help you.” The corner of my mouth turned up. “On one condition.”
“You name it, and it’s done, man.” He rubbed his hands together, pleased that he’d gotten his way. I wouldn’t get too excited if I were him.
“You have to finish boxing up the rest of my shit.” I had just purchased my very first home and was scheduled to close on the house in one week, but with the amount of clients rolling in and our crazy schedules, I had yet to find time to pack anything. Seeing as Bryce and I had been sharing an apartment for the last two years, he was fully aware of this…and not too pleased by my request either.
“Finish? Asshole, you haven’t even started!”
I quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Reid, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d so dick punch you right now. But since I need your equipment in working order tonight, I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”
I bit back a laugh, knowing he’d get me back for this on the football field tomorrow. “Boxes are in the spare closet. Oh, and if you could label them too, that’d be great.” I slapped him on the back before turning to leave his room. He mumbled under his breath, something about getting the shit-end of this bargain. “What was that, Bryce?”
“Just…meet me at the hotel at eight. Room three-oh-four.” He slipped me a keycard and reached for the duffle bag I’d thrown back on the bed. “And don’t forget these.”
Rolling my eyes, I slung it over my shoulder. “I thought it didn’t start until nine.”
“You know how much girls love to pre-game.” Bryce slipped his hand over his shorts, and grabbed his junk. “He needs to pre-game, too.”
Of course he did.
I waited for the click of the door shutting behind me before I leaned my head against the wall and let out a frustrated groan. God, I was such a fucking pushover, and soon I realized that it was going to take a lot more than just making Bryce my moving day bitch to get through tonight. I made a beeline for the kitchen and grabbed the unopened bottle of Jameson, slipping it into the bag with my “uniforms” for the evening’s festivities. How the hell had I let myself get suckered into helping him? Fuck, this was definitely going to require some liquid coercion on my part…and a lot of it.
* * *
I pulled into the parking lot of Hotel Monaco around quarter to nine and not a minute sooner. I was in no hurry to get there, and unlike Bryce, I didn’t need to get my dick wet before grinding up on these desperate housewives.
I slid the keycard he’d given me earlier into the door and could feel the bass from My Darkest Days’ “Porn Star Dancing” rattling the handle, letting me know Bryce had already got things started without me. Laughter filled the room as I found his face buried between a set of double D’s with two half-naked chicks on either side of him. Jesus, the fucker was getting paid to strip for them, and here they were practically dropping their panties in his lap. I had to give it to him though. After all these years, they still kept crawling back for more. Literally. I recognized one of his former hookups kneeling between his legs with her brunette head rhythmically bobbing up and down as she sucked him off. The vibrant red lips tattooed on her left ass cheek were a dead giveaway: Lacey Donovan.
A few months back, I’d walked in on this exact same scene in the middle of our living room. Once her and Bryce had finished up, she came to my bedroom and not so subtly offered herself up on a silver platter to me, but one thing Bryce and I had agreed on was no sloppy seconds. If any one of us had ever hit that shit, she was off limits, and that rule had remained intact since.
I caught her glancing over at me as I passed them by, and even with his dick hitting the back of her throat, she curled her lips up around him, grinning seductively, and winked. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that she was wearing a “bride-to-be” sash either. I shook my head. Good luck with that, sweetheart.
The door leading to the bedroom had been left open a crack, and I quietly slipped in. Other than a glimmer of light trickling in from the adjacent bathroom, the room was blanketed in darkness, and I gladly welcomed it. If I had it my way, I’d stay locked up in there all night, but I still had to keep up my end of the bargain. I grabbed a glass from the counter and took the bottle of Jameson out my bag, pouring myself an ample amount of the amber liquor before tossing it back. Enjoying the slight burn as it numbed all of my thoughts, I poured myself another shot and began to undress. The sooner I got this over with, the better.
I kicked off my shoes and reached for the button of my pants, reluctantly sliding the zipper down and letting them pool at my feet. My shirt soon followed, and I took my time as I slipped each button through the hole before adding it to the growing pile. Standing there in nothing but my boxer briefs, I finished off the second shot and braced my hands on the counter as I hung my head. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to go through with this…fucking stripping. I must’ve lost my goddamn mind.
Slowly lifting my gaze to the mirror in front of me, I reached for the waistband of my boxers, but my eyes widened as I felt the wind being punched from my lungs. A set of crystal-clear blue orbs were staring back at me from across the room with a mixture of fear and hesitant curiosity swirling in their depths. My reaction likely matched hers, for different reasons I’m sure, because while she looked as though she were seeing me for the very first time, I had seen those eyes nightly in my dreams for the last two years.
