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Okay, that was fucking cute of him.
I can say with certainty that I’ve never had a man put my clothes on a hanger after a dirty, lust-fueled hookup.
Another thought shoots into my brain. Did we hook up?!
Did I have drunk sex with a guy I would never have sex with while sober? I think I did.
Did I steal the man’s respected, virtuous virginity? Looks like I did that, too.
And if all that wasn’t enough for my immoral self, looks like I went and married the man, too.
Ahhhhh!!!What-did-I-do? What-did-I-do? What-did-I-do?
I am a lawyer, a damn good one. Or, at least Sober Nadia is. Sober Nadia is smart. Sober Nadia is logical. Sober Nadia would never randomly marry some guy. Especially not without a frank discussion of the legal consequences, property acquisitions, tax obligations, and an ironclad prenup.
But Drunk Nadia is a bit of a slut, it seems. And an idiot to boot.
A lushy, slutty idiot.
I’m completely appalled, though I have a feeling my friends would be so proud. My mom, too.
“Okay, Nadia. The judgment and self-bashing can wait. First things first—I need to…”
I need to what? I don’t have a plan here.
“Find Harry,” I mumble. “Find Harry. That’s the plan.”
Before stepping out of the room, I give myself a pat down, making sure all my zippers and buttons are fully put back together. With a quick glance around the bedroom to make sure the coast is clear, I lift up my dress and shove my hand underneath—way, way underneath—to make the necessary adjustments down there. My lacy underwear is still intact. I mean, yes, it’s a soaked mess, but it’s still covering all the bits and isn’t ripped to shreds. That’s a good start.
I glance at the bed and get flashbacks to the things that happened between those sheets a few short hours ago.
My legs wrapped around Harry’s face as I grabbed his hair. His tongue probing deep inside my tunnel while I gurgled his name.
His cock in my hands and my mouth while he emptied himself on my tongue.
Oh god…
But then, select bits and pieces of the conversation we had a few short hours ago come floating into my muddled brain.
“Let me get a condom…Let me be inside you…Wanna be inside you so bad. Do you want that?”
My legs clench together when I recall the needy timber of his voice.
I hear my words next.“We…maybe we should wait.”
So, it looks like wedidn’thave sex. Maybe Drunk Nadia isn’t a full-blown slut. Just a bumbling idiot who makes horrible decisions. Okay, that’s a start.
Grasping onto this flimsy bit of reassurance, I straighten out the top of my dress, cover up the girls, and venture out of the bedroom. I’m sticky and sore between the legs. And I’m so shaken by this reality that I’m stepping into that my knees can hardly hold me upright.
“Harry?” I call out, wandering through the hallways of his huge house. Wow. It’s a lot of house for one person. “Harry?”
The framed photos on the walls keep distracting me. There’s a bunch of family group pictures, plus individual shots of his siblings. His mom. His dad. I recognize his grandmother in a couple of the photographs. As I snoop and examine the myriad of candid and posed pictures, I realize that his family really does mean a lot to him.
I shake my head, snapping out of it and returning my attention back to my disaster at hand.Priorities, Nadia. Priorities.
As awkward as this bizarro morning-after scenario might be, there’s no way I’m going to sneak out of Harry’s house right now. We made a mess, and we need to fix it. With a legally sound annulment. Pronto!
Except, annulments are typically faster and easier when both parties are present.
