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I lift my hands up in a I-don’t-mean-you-any-harm signal.
“I’m just trying to get you up the stairs without you hurting yourself,” I assure her.
“I’m not going to hurt myself. I’m perfectly fine,” she tries convincing me.
She believes it too, even while her head moves back and forth slightly. She’s probably seeing the room spin right now.
Just go along with it, Brady,I tell myself.
Last thing I need is her freaking out on me while drunk.
“I know you’re fine. Just trying to be a gentleman here, Izzie. Do you know what would be a great idea? How about I hug you and we can move together!”
“Yes!”
Progress, yes!
I wrap her legs around mine and hold her waist. She tosses her arms around me, and we start up the stairs in our embrace. She looks me up and down, slowly—or at least as best she can while her head is still jerking around trying to center itself in the spinning room.
As we near the top of the flight, her eyes go from unfocused to zeroed in on me. A fire appears in her eyes. I can physically see the sudden desire and lust take over her body.
Before I can ask her what is going on in that head of hers, she moves so fast that her lips are on mine before I can utter a word.
I stand there in shock for a split second, but then the feel of her lips on mine brings me to life. I wrap my arms around her waist and open my mouth to explore hers.
I groan slightly as our tongues intertwine.
I knew kissing this woman would be amazing, but I didn’t realize how amazing it would be. Izzie’s lips are lush and soft.
I move us towards the wall, her back pressed against it, and her ass resting on the guard rail. My hands move up to cradle her head, allowing me to deepen the kiss, drawing our passions further.
Izzie’s hands roam all over me as if she can’t decide where to touch me or as if she wants to touch all of me at once. She pushes against me a little, and I break away from her mouth. Our breaths are short and ragged as we stare into each other’s eyes.
“Take me to bed, Brady,” she whispers.
With those five words, my body jerks like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over my head.
What the hell am I doing?
She’s drunk.
This isn’t okay. As badly as I wanted this from the moment I saw her tonight, I can’t.
I quietly walk us to the top of the stairs and set her down against a sturdy wall.
“Brady? Please,” she pleads.
“No,” I firmly state.
She stares at me confused with nothing to say.
“You’re drunk,” I explain. “I’m not sleeping with you, Izzie. I’ll help you into bed, but I can’t do anything else.”
The words coming out of my mouth hurt me, but it’s clear she’s just plain offended. I want to take her to bed, but not like this. I want it to be something for her to remember and be proud of, not a drunken regret.
“Fine,” she says before moving towards the hall.
I reach out to help her, but she smacks my hands away.
