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“No. No. I’m fine. Really. Just need some Benadryl.”
She nods in agreement, and we head out and climb into the limo.
“Sir, can you stop at the nearest drug store, please?” She asks the driver, who confirms it’s just up the road.
“Be there in less than five minutes,” he confirms.
I have no idea how accurate his five-minute guess is because my eyes start swelling, and I can’t hold them open a second longer and drift off. The cold leather of the limo seat is the last thing I remember. The next thing I know, a cool, wet washcloth is running over my face, and I see Blair’s angelic face when I open my eyes again,
“Hi,” she says softly.
“Hey. I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep. It has nothing to do with you though, I was having the best time.,” I start rambling and look around nervously. Somehow we’re in her apartment, and I’m lying on her soft navy blue couch. The surface is like a teddy bear.
“Wow, your cooch is so soft.”
She laughs, but I don’t understand why. This thing is like a fuzzy peach or as soft as a long-haired dog.
“Do you mean couch?”
“Of course, I do, ma’am. That’s why I said cooch.” My head starts feeling heavy again, but luckily the itching has passed.
Blair laughs again.
“I love your laugh,” I say, smiling but start closing my eyes.
“I’m glad because I couldn’t find your keys, so it looks like you’ll be sleeping here tonight.”
“I get to sleep with you?” My words sound slurred, and her sweet kiss on my cheek is the last thing I remember before sleep takes me under.
***
The cotton dryness in my mouth wakes me hours later. It’s dark, but I instantly know I’m in Blair’s house because it smells like her. Vanilla and chamomile. Standing up slowly, I rub my eyes, walk down the hallway bathroom, and do my business. God, I feel like shit, but at least I’m not itching anymore. I’m just super thirsty.
After I pour and drink a tall glass of water, I head back to the couch but stop at the bottom of the stairs, wishing I could go up there and sleep with Blair instead. Just when I retreat back toward the couch, I hear something and stop. It’s a buzzing noise, and soon it’s followed by soft moans.
I swallow hard, knowing I shouldn’t keep listening but I’m powerless to move away. Her sounds become louder and more frantic. I swear I hear my name. It takes every ounce of my willpower to stay on that bottom step, clutching my hard as rock erection through my dress pants. I admit I climbed three steps before forcing myself back down, but I challenge any man in my shoes to not lose his manners at a time like this.
I hear the moment she comes. In my head, I can picture her perfectly, lying on her back with her legs spread wide for me…and how I would worship her.
Chapter Nine
Blair
After last night’s hilarious disaster date, which wasn’t actually a disaster but an epically comical night, I suspected I would wake up to an empty house, but of course, he didn’t leave. Oliver is nothing but an upstanding gentleman and would never bail after one night of sex or no sex in our case. I laugh as I catch him tossing up pancakes in my kitchen. He’s still in last night’s clothes and appears to be making me breakfast. How can I not swoon?
“Good morning, Beautiful.”
“Good morning.”
“I had to do something to try and make up for the way last night ended and figured since you had everything to make pancakes, then you must like them, right?”
“I love them. I just can’t seem to make them edible; I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“You’re in luck. I do. Here, want to take some pictures? Throw in some sprinkles?”
“Only if I make some too, you know legitimately…and without burning them,” I laugh, but I’m nervous at failing at this in front of him. I also love that he remembers that I’m making a cookbook.
“You got it. I’ll help,” he says and sweeps behind me, guiding me with his strong body to the kitchen counter where all the ingredients lay scattered. He has everything pre-measured in my teal measuring cups, and I start mixing them all together in a large mixing bowl. His arm comes around and reaches out for the cup of milk, and pours it in. His musky smell and the heat from his body have my lady bits going bonkers. Last night I couldn’t sleep and pulled out Earl, my trusty lover, and by lover, I mean vibrator, to help relieve my crazy attraction to the sick sleeping man on my couch, who was so close but still untouchable in his unconscious state.
