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“Steady there,” Rex murmurs, clutching onto my other arm. He slips a casual arm around my shoulders as we stroll behind Gunner. I hear Zeke grumble, but he catches up to flank my other side.
Gunner leads us to a different door along the back wall, and swings it open to reveal a well-lit hallway. It’s rough around the edges, but it reminds me of a hotel. I try to remember the way, but we wind this way and that.Left, right, right, left,I chant silently in my head. But when Gunner stops in front of a nondescript wooden door, I realize that it’s no use. I’ll never remember how to get out of here in my intoxicated condition.
Gunner’s thick arm reaches inside to flick on the light switch and we all filter through the doorway, single file.
The large room is the epitome of the biker bachelor pad. One end is lined with two black leather sofas, focused on a large flat-screen television. At the other end of the room, there is a king-size bed covered with a simple black and red quilt. It actually looks like the kind my grandmother used to make, and I wonder if it’s the same with Gunner.
I glance over at him, his muscled back turned towards me as he removes his jacket and hangs it in his closet. Clad only in a black t-shirt, I can see the black tattoos that wind up and down his thick arms. He’s even more intimidating. I can’t imagine that huge hulk of a man being sentimental about anything, much less some quilt. But, I wonder.
When Gunner turns around, he catches me staring. He pauses, blinking twice, before rubbing his huge, calloused hand against his chin.
“There’s a bathroom through there,” Gunner says gruffly, pointing towards a door tucked away on the other side of his closet. “You can sleep here tonight,” He gestures toward the bed before his expression turns steely. “But I’ll be right over there, on the couch. So don’t get any ideas,” He warns.
The mention of a restroom reminds me of the fullness of my bladder. I really shouldn’t have drunk so much tonight. This has all turned into such a nightmare. One poor decision and you’re in hell, just like my father warned me.
I trudge towards the bathroom door. The high heels are rubbing blisters on the backs of my feet. I’m eager to slip these shoes off, but I’m concerned about the state of cleanliness in Gunner’s bachelor bathroom.
My fingers grope along the wall to flip the light switch. I need to see what I’m walking into before a single footstep into this bathroom. I hold my breath until I press the dimmer button.
I wrinkle my nose, but honestly, it’s not as bad as I expected. The bathroom is tiny, with a small shower, toilet, and pedestal sink. Everything looks clean enough and there’s even toilet paper. I breathe a sigh of relief as I close the door behind me.
I quickly sit down on the toilet to relieve myself and realize that if I concentrate, I can hear every word that the guys are saying.
“Goddammit. I wanted her to stay inmyroom.” That sounds like Zeke. I remember his offer from before. I’m flatteredandterrified.
“She’s not one of the club whores,” Gunner’s voice snaps back. “Go find one of them.”
My mouth drops open in shock.
“Hey, brothers. I think you both need to fucking settle down.” The fresh voice must be Rex.
“Shut the fuck up, Rex. I saw you making the moves on her.” Zeke shoots back.
“Well, so what? We always share and share alike. Don’t we?” Rex replies evenly.
I hear mutterings of agreement and quickly wipe and flush. When the water’s running, I can no longer overhear. But what I already have to digest isenough.That earful may be more than I can handle.
Share and share alike? What the hell does that mean?I feel like my entire body is flushed. I feel warm. I feel flattered. Are two out of three of these attractive, muscled men interested inme?I can hardly believe it.
But as I dry my hands, I tell myself I have to snap out of it. I should be terrified, not susceptible to the slightest bit of sweet talk.
These men are monsters, I remind myself, gazing at my bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror. And I am still very drunk.
I whisper a silent prayer and walk out of the bathroom, trying to brace myself for whatever comes next. I’m surprised to see only Gunner remaining, and I almost jump when I realize that he’s bare-chested. He’s lying back on the largest sofa with his knees hooked over the arm of one end because of his immense length. A homemade afghan is draped around his waist, hiding some of his six-pack, and I wonder if he’s wearing boxers or briefs underneath. My pulse quickens when I think Gunner might be wearing nothing at all.
“Good night,” Gunner grumbles, turning to punch the pillow underneath his shoulders. His massive back looks like a sculpture with every muscle bulging, but it’s marked with a fine crisscrossing of scars. Whatever the original injury was, it had to be painful. But the scars subtract nothing from the beauty there. There's an irresistible urge within me to trace the patterns with my fingers.
I pull my eyes away from the mesmerizing sight. I don’t want to be caught staring as Gunner settles back in. With a sigh, I remove my high heels from my feet, only to find my relief is short-lived.
I’m going to have to sleep in this dress all night. There’s no way I’m stripping down to my skivvies. I choke back a groan.Oh, myGod. How miserable,I think, not even feeling guilty for taking the Lord’s name in vain.
Gunner reaches to turn off the lamp on an end table, the last light in the room, and I pull back the covers on the bed to slide in between the smooth sheets. The pillow is soft enough and the linens smell clean. When I’m completely hidden underneath the blankets, I maneuver my hand underneath my dress to unhook my bra strap.There. That’s a little better. I can breathe a little easier now.
My head spins, even though I’m lying flat on the bed. It’s unbelievable that I'm here. I can’t believe that one poor decision snowballed into this.
I lift my head to peer through the darkness. Gunner’s figure is still on the sofa. I can barely make out the slow rise and fall of his chest, but I doubt that he’s already asleep.
My eyelids become heavy. It’s been a long day, and I drank too much alcohol on top of everything else. I’m too exhausted to worry any longer. I drift off to sleep.
