AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah?” I pant like the true hussy I am.
“Are you really going to use some jackoff’s sperm to get knocked up?” His pained words make me stop my full-on lip assault. Pulling back, I gaze up at him with half-lidded, lustful eyes.
“What?”
“The whole baby thing. Are you serious?” he asks, running his thumbs down my cheeks and around to caress the back of my neck. It’s a tender touch that doesn’t match the burning in his eyes.
“Uh, yeah. I am.”
He nods his head before taking a step back. I feel the draft between us instantly, and it makes me shiver. Linkin reaches down and grabs my hands with his own, pulling me along behind him. “Come on. Let’s get you home,” he says, leading me towards the back door. He never lets go of my hands as he flips switches, bathing Lucky’s in darkness.
Outside, the wind sweeping off the Bay is cooler and tastes of the salty sea. Even though I’m wearing a sweater, a chill races through me, peppering my skin with goose bumps. He doesn’t say a word as he leads me towards a blue Blazer with beefy wheels. It’s old and well used, but is in decent shape. You can tell he’s put some work and time into the old truck.
Without saying a word, he lifts me into the passenger seat and walks around to the driver’s side. I can feel the tension filling the truck as he pulls out of the lot and heads towards the apartment building. He doesn’t say a word the entire drive, his knuckles turning white as he chokes the steering wheel. I feel like I’ve done something wrong, but I haven’t a clue what.
Was it the kiss? Maybe he didn’t want me the way I thought he did. I mean, he was hard in his pants, but maybe that was just a reaction to having a woman crawl all over him. Maybe he realized it was me who was kissing him, and therefore, felt the need to put on the brakes.
Fine. Whatever.
I don’t have time for the sex anyway. I’m getting ready to knock myself up with donor number G45629’s sperm.
The closer we get to home, the worse I start to feel. Maybe those last few shots weren’t my best idea. Closing my eyes, I will my stomach to settle and my mind to stop spinning. With each turn and brake of the truck, I start to wonder if I’ll be able to make it to my bathroom before losing what little food I ate on my ride home from Richmond.
Ugh, this is horrible.
The darkness wraps around me, pulling me under, and I welcome it.
My last conscious thought is that I’m never drinking again.
* * *
The sunlight is peeking through the blinds of my bedroom window, my blankets a tangled mess around my legs. My entire body is heavy and my head pounding as I slowly rouse myself to a somewhat conscious state.
Why in the hell did I drink so much?
Groaning aloud, I rub my sleep-matted eyes and beg the pounding in my head to subside just enough to get a glass of water and some pain killers. When I finally crack open my heavy eyelids, I notice the painting on the wall is missing. What the hell? Did I get robbed and not realize it?
Glancing around, I notice Abby’s dresser is missing too! Frantically, I search for any sign of personal belongings and come up empty. I sit up and catch my first glance at navy blue sheets.
Not. My. Sheets.
Holy. Shit.
I’m in someone else’s bed.
The shirt I’m wearing isn’t my own. It’s big and roomy and frankly, smells fucking amazing. No. Wait, Lexi. I could have been abducted by some crazy person who dressed me in his clothes and is going to force me to feed him and his thirty-five cats with my toes, and all I can think about is how great the shirt smells.
Or maybe I had sex last night.
Oh. My. God.
I had sex last night and don’t remember it.
Great. My first sexual experience in about six months, and I have no clue who the guy is and if he was any good. It’s just my luck, ya know? I couldn’t get my husband to sleep with me and the one time I find someone willing to play hide the purple headed mushroom slinger with me, I have no recollection of the entire event. I mean, my luck the guy has an eight-inch shlong and I rode the flesh rocket all night long until I was boneless and spent from too many orgasms.
Then the door opens and a small scream slips from my lips.
“Settle down, Firecracker. You’ll wake the neighbors.”
Oh. My. God.
I slept with Linkin.
