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There was whiskey, then more whiskey, and gin with Dad. The final encore was a trio of vodka tonics. That really fucking finished me off. The alcohol took things from reasonable to unreasonable. And Arie. I kept staring at her. Watching her. Going over the supple lines of her body in my mind. I went to her and tilted her head towards mine, telling her that tonight was the night. It needed to be the night. But we fought, like we always do about this one damn thing. She’s been saving herself for marriage, and I’ve been patiently waiting for almost ten years for her to give it up. I think I stalked off to play pool with Logan when she told me ‘no,’ yet again.
Pool with Logan. Lining up my shot and trying to get just the right spin, then whiffing royally thanks to my drunken vision. Logan snickers, then takes aim, sinking three balls with a satisfied grin. He’s kicking my ass, and I hate losing to anyone, let alone my little brother.
Then I look up and see Arie slowly slipping off her sweater, exposing her smooth, glowing shoulders, and the curve of her firm breasts under a thin blue sundress. She’s driving me crazy, making it impossible for me to focus on the damn game. She looks at me with a stare so dirty, I could have fucked her right then and there; I imagine filling her perfect little mouth with my thick cock.
And seconds before, she’s telling me we were waiting. Still waiting.
She does this to me, especially when she’s been drinking. She teases me, even though she has no intention of foll
owing through. She makes me want to just… throw her down on this pool table and fuck her in front of everyone. And yes, I know just how messed up that is.
Everything that happened after that is a blur of fists flying and breaking glass.
Two frat boys I don’t recognize saunter into the hotel bar where we are having my party. They’re definitely not with us; they look like they’re on vacation from Iowa, or another flyover state. They definitely aren’t from the city.
The heat of the water burns against my broken, bruised skin, but it eases some of the pain in my throbbing muscles. I watch as blood pools at my feet, and my mind starts to put the pieces of the puzzle back together.
Did I hit them first, or did they hit me?
The guys walk right up to Arie, and they start chatting her up. One pushes a lock of her curly black hair out of her face, while the other runs a finger down the bare skin of her arm. My vision starts to go cloudy with rage.
I set my cue down on the side of the table and take a step in their direction.
Logan puts a hand on my arm. He tells me to stop and take a breath, to think through what I’m about to do, but when I lock eyes with Arie, I know there is no going back. Then I see one of the frat guys reach down and grab her ass.
And I see red.
The last thing I remember before waking up on my hotel bed is the sound my fist made when it connected with the taller kid’s jaw.
Even without clear memories, my body bears its share of physical reminders of what happened. My abdomen and chest are covered in bruises, and I can feel more on my back from where I was probably sucker-punched in the kidneys. I begrudgingly turn off the water, and grab one of the plush hotel towels to dry my hair. When I brush the towel against my head, it hurts, and when I pull the towel away, it’s stained with blood. I reach up and find shards of glass in my hair, as if a beer bottle were broken over the top of my head.
I probably had that coming.
I walk out of the bathroom naked, with every intention of just collapsing back into bed and dealing with my pissed off family in the morning.
But then I freeze.
Arie is swathed across my bed, asleep, her little blue sundress creeping up her beautiful thighs. One glance at her like that and I’m already thinking about all the different ways I could fuck her. I don’t know if that was her intention, but now it’s all I can think about. A soft groan escapes my lips, and Arie opens her eyes, smiles mischievously, and stretches seductively.
“Hey, baby,” she whispers sleepily as she brushes her hair away from her face. I can’t stop staring at the way her filmy dress hugs her curves in all the right places, the way tendrils of her hair fall onto the slope of her shoulders, against the line of her neck. My defenses are collapsing.
“Shit, Arie,” I mutter. My teeth are clenched tight.
I don’t need this tonight. My body is aching, and I know I’ve made some stupid decisions my father will make me pay for tomorrow. But as I walk up to Arie, as I tower over her and see the way her small form is shadowed in my massive frame, I feel myself getting hard. My cock throbs. I reach out and touch the curve of her cheek, soft and warm. She leans into me.
“Pierce,” she says in a hushed voice. Her eyes sparkle, but we’re both on our way to sober right now. There’s something different about this time.
Goddamnit. I’m drawn into her cool blue gaze, and I have to struggle with my self-control not to just grab her, throw her down, and fuck her senseless. Arie raises an eyebrow in a clear effort to appear seductive, but she begins to blush, and she breaks eye contact with me out of nerves. Somehow, this is even hotter. Even the makeup she is wearing can’t hide her shyness, her doubt, the fact that she doesn’t know if she’s making the right decision.
It’s all turning me on so much, I think I’m going to lose my mind.
“What are you doing in here, Arie? This isn’t a good idea if we’re just going to end up in the same place we always do,” I growl. I know I’m being a bit of a dick, but this hasn’t exactly been my night and I’d rather just go to sleep if she’s going to leave anyway. But suddenly, she reaches up and grabs my hand.
“Thank you for protecting me tonight,” she says. Her voice is barely a whisper, but now, I can hear a hint of arousal behind it. She swallows hard, and I see that hint of nervousness again. “I was thinking — we’re getting married soon, anyway. Right? You’re the one for me, and I’m the one for you. And all that.” She blushes deep red when she says it.
I take another step toward her.
“What are you telling me right now, Arie?”
