Shit…I shake my head as I sit up against the backboard. “What the fuck?” I look down at myself. I’m naked. The tip of my dick is barely wearing a condom.
Squeezing my forehead, I start remembering the girl. She was the one who ran into me at the track. I couldn’t believe my fucking luck when I saw her at the restaurant. She felt familiar to me. I wanted to fuck her. I needed to fuck her. I look down at my dick again. I did fuck her. I ate her sweet pussy too.
Wait. What’s that smell? I look over the edge of the bed. “What the fuck?” Vomit?
I’m now noticing the pillows in front of me and in the back of me and the sour taste in my mouth. I threw up. Did the girl make sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit?
My head feels like a sinking ship that’s taken in too much water. To ease the ache, I massage my temples. Then faces start coming to mind. First I see Contessa, raven-haired with beautiful light-blue eyes. Any guy would be happy to look at her every day. Next, I see my mother, who’s dead set on me marrying Contessa, who’s my sixth cousin. If I marry Contessa, then we’ll procure a benefit for keeping it all in the family. I still don’t know why it has to be me. Achilles isn’t married yet, and he’s the oldest. Neither is Orion, and he’s the second oldest. It makes no fucking sense at all. Getting smashed was supposed to make it all go away. But it didn’t. It’s all still here, staring me in the face.
But that girl… who the fuck was she?
She could still be here. The thought of getting another go at her while sober gives me energy. I get out of the bed and dash to the bathroom to clean up the condom. Shit, I came hard. My dick is happy as hell. Who the fuck was she? I’ll have to ask Nero.
“Hercules, what the fuck. Get in here. I don’t have all day!” Achilles bellows.
I sigh sharply. To him, it looks like I’ve fucked up. This is his penthouse. I usually only stay here on the weekends, but this week, I’ve been here since Tuesday. I drank just about all his liquor, which I’d never touched until Wednesday. I threw up on his floor and bed. He’s going to ban me from his place—I just know it.
After pissing, I rush back into the bedroom to put on my clothes. And that’s when, on a wayward glance, I see her bra on the floor. Is she still here? Is she the reason why Achilles is pissed?
I grin. If she’s here, I’m fucking her sober. It’s the girl from last night, the one who made me fight being drunk so I could remember making out with her, finger fucking her, and then fucking her.
* * *
Achilles sits at the island.He’s wearing a suit and a scowl. He throws his hands up. “On my bed, Herc?”
I look around, searching the living room, dining room, kitchen, and hallway. “Is she here?”
Achilles roars with laughter. “No, she’s not fucking here. Do you know who the fuck she is?”
I frown. “No. Do you?”
I know that look on his face. He knows, but he doesn’t want to tell me.
“No,” he says. “But if you’re going to bring random girls here, I want you to be sober at least. We can’t afford another scandal. If we have to pay another penalty because of those fucking morality clauses in the Valentine trust, then it’s going to hurt us bad.” He glares at the empty bottles of vodka, tequila, and brandy. I mixed dark with clear—that was a mistake.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” I say, and he knows that if I say it, I mean it.
Achilles nods, studying me with one eye narrowed. Standing under his scrutiny is like being in the principal’s office.
“I hate that you spiraled out of control like this, Herc. You want to be a fucking drunk?”
“No. But I don’t want to fuck someone I’m related to.”
“Who said anything about fucking her?”
I’m speechless. What in the hell is he insinuating? “What do you think—I’m going to cheat on my wife?”
There he goes, staring at me again, his eyebrows furrowed.
“What is it, Achilles?” I ask.
He closes his eyes as he shakes his head. I sit in the seat beside him, ready to hear the bad news. I know whatever he says isn’t going to be good for me. But I’m fucking dutiful. Whatever the Valentines want, I’ll do because the alternative sucks nuts.
Surprisingly, Achilles reaches out and massages the back of my neck. He hasn’t done that since we were kids. My brother has been more reliable than my two parents put together. My mother calls the shots, and my father goes along with the program. I think if it was up to my dad, he would let the money go and let VTI fall into the hands of the highest bidder. He’s a weird guy, into botany and zoology more than business. But I like him more than I do my mom. I love her plenty, but she’s hard and cold, and for her, nothing gets in the way of what needs to be done to maintain our status as the richest and most successful Valentines in modern history.
