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What little breath I have left in my lungs punches free, leaving me dizzy. And painfully aroused. “No one’s stopping you.”
Teddy shakes his head, the intensity in his gaze fading like a sunset. “Tell you what. Ask me again when you’re sober.”
“I will,” I promise.
“We’ll see.”
I don’t know what to make of that—any of it—but I see a tray of neon-colored shooters nearby, and my attention gets waylaid. “Fuck yeah. Tiny science experiments.” I wave down the server, and after forking over some cash, she hands me a shot. Teddy grabs it from my hand, downing the bright pink liquid before I can utter a protest. “Dude. You can’t keep that up all night.”
“Watch me,” he says, setting the empty shooter back on the tray.
Well, fine then. If Teddy is so determined to be my watchdog, I’ll give him a show he won’t forget.
The muscles in his cheek twitch as I take a step back and start dancing again, tugging up my shirt enough for him to see the bottom of my stomach. I raise an eyebrow in invitation, one Teddy easily accepts. He closes the distance between us and spins me around, holding tight to my stomach as his crotch nestles against my ass.
Yesss.
This is good. Very good. I’ll drive Teddy so wild he won’t be able to resist me the next time we meet. He won’t keep a respectable distance like he usually does at these Elite 8 gatherings. I won’t catch his eyes on me only for them to slide away in indifference. He’ll want me; I’ll make sure of it. And then, maybe, he’ll keep me. Or, no, fuck me. Yeah, then he’ll fuck me.
I give myself a mental high five. It’s a brilliant plan. Absolutely bulletproof. And okay, maybe I am a little drunk, but people get drunk in Vegas all the damn time.
Seriously, what could go wrong?
Chapter 2
Kipp
A thousand tiny daggers stab into my retinas the moment I wake up.
“Noo,” I groan, closing my eyes and face-planting onto a hard surface. “Ow.”
“Fuck,” the surface mutters. “Why are you shouting?”
“Why are you?” I hiss, pushing myself upright and blinking a few times.
Slowly, my vision comes into focus. Dark sheets. A broad, hairy chest. A room that is most definitely not my own.
“Where am I?” I ask, trying to think past the pounding in my head.
“My place.”
“And who the fuck—” Oh. “Teddy?”
The man snorts, rubbing his face. My eyes drag down his bare chest before I grab the sheet at his hips and tug, revealing…jeans. I frown.
“Did we fuck?” I ask, trying to piece my memories together. I remember being at the club. Drinking a lot. I remember Teddy, his hands on my body as we danced. I remember feeling really happy. But past that, it’s all a blur.
“No, we didn’t fuck,” Teddy says, sitting up.
“Are you sure?” I ask, checking myself over and then looking around. I’m in briefs, and the rest of my clothes are on a chair in the corner of the room.
Teddy makes a sound that could be incredulity. “I don’t fuck drunk men, Kipp. Not even you.”
Not even me? What does that mean?
“Okay, but you were wasted, too,” I point out. “So you might not remember. And fuck. Why is my voice so goddamn loud?”
Teddy huffs a laugh, running his hands through his hair. Christ, the man has nice arms. “You’d know if we fucked,” he says simply.
