“Are we watching our video?”
I don’t need her to clarify. It’s the only video I’ve been watching for seven days. If Avery had a secure phone, I’d send it to her as well. I’ve imagined her touching herself while watching us have sex. Climaxing to her own hand as she watches herself on her knees giving me a blow job.
Not helping.
“No. I’m telling your brother I’m taking you home.” As soon as we leave The Club, my ears ring at the silence of the casino. Not that it’s quiet out here, but compared to the loud music, it’s like sweet harps are playing instead of slot machines.
“Are you going to fuck me?” she says too loudly.
“Christ. How drunk are you?”
“Not so drunk I can’t get it up. Wait. That’s your line.” She snorts and trips over her feet.
Somehow, I get us to my car, and Avery buckled in the passenger seat.
“I have to pee,” she says a few minutes later. “Bad.”
“We’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes.”
“Pull over. I’ll go on the sidewalk.”
“Again, how drunk are you?”
“I’m gonna pee my pants. That’s how drunk– Wait.” She giggles, slipping her hand between her legs. “I’m not wearing any pants.”
Jesus. She inches her dress higher up her thighs and taunts me with her naked flesh. My place is closer, so I turn right at the next light and speed down the streets. As luck will have it, I find a spot not far from my place and park the car.
I’m at Avery’s door before she’s even unbuckled. When I open the door, I see why. She’s so drunk she can’t get the button.
“Hell, woman.” I lean over her and undo the buckle. Avery gropes my semi-erect dick and squeezes.
“I’ve missed you. Wait. I’m not supposed to say that.”
I’d grin at my victory if she hadn’t been pleading for a bathroom a few minutes ago. I help her out of the car and up my front steps.
“Six-four-nine-one-one.”
“Not even close, sweetheart.” I punch in the correct code and guide her to the bathroom.
While she’s in there, I pour a glass of water and empty two painkillers into my palm. A few minutes go by, and she doesn’t come out.
“Avery?” I knock on the bathroom door. No response. “Sweetheart, you okay? I’m coming in.”
I open the door and find her asleep on the toilet. I laugh and curse at the same time. I carefully pick her up and carry her to my bedroom. She instantly curls in a ball on her side. It can’t be comfortable sleeping in heels and a skimpy dress, so I do the gentlemanly thing and slip off her fuck-me heels.
Did she put them on tonight expecting to get laid? I’d better be the only one she wore them for. I rummage through my drawers and take out a T-shirt and basketball shorts. Removing Avery’s clothes isn’t a hardship. It’s keeping my hands and mouth off her body, especially when she moans and lifts her hips to me. That is painful.
I prop her up and wrestle the T-shirt over her head, then slide the shorts up her legs. Damn, she’s beautiful, even in her passed-out state. Not wanting her to wake up with a headache, I hold the glass and pills to her lips.
“Open up, Avery. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“Mm. Sexy No... wan.” She doesn’t open her eyes but does open her mouth. I’m impressed she has enough energy to take the pain pills and water.
I lay her down again and pull the covers over her body. Leaving her to sleep it off, I go back into my living room and debate on how much information to tell Trey. I pick up my phone and see three missed texts from him.
Trey:She okay?
Trey:Drake said she went home.