Page 13 of My First Mistake
“What, Chase?”
“You’re drunk,” he says the words through clenched teeth, like he’s annoyed at me for being drunk, when it’s mostly his fault.
I must definitely be drunk, because I appear to have forgotten how much I hate him. “You were the one who brought me all that bourbon. I think you got me drunk on purpose.”
One corner of his sinful mouth lifts in a grin. “And why exactly would I want to do that, Firefly?”
“So that I’m too hammered to stab you in your sleep, remember?”
He laughs, and the sound makes me smile too. I’ve always loved his laugh. Always loved…
No, Addie! No. I pull myself together and drag my gaze away from those hypnotic eyes of his. And then I let my arms slip from around his neck. A few seconds later, he lets go of me too, and the spell is broken. “We should find you something to sleep with if you’re not going to be making use of the sex swing?”
He raises an amused eyebrow. “Something to sleep with?”
“Like a blanket or something. For the couch. Not like a sex doll or anything. I didn’t mean sleep with like sex; I meant actual sleeping.” I mentally face-palm myself. Why would you even say that, Addie? I’m digging myself further into this hole and he keeps watching me with growing amusement.
He pinches the spot between his brows, still laughing softly. “I think we need to get you to bed.”
We what now? I am not responsible for the reaction my vagina has to him uttering those words. I’m blaming the bourbon for the fact that she’s screaming,yes please, Daddy, right now. I slip off my heels, before I fall again and take the time to re-engage my brain. “I think we’ve already established you’re sleeping on the couch, and I will be getting myself to bed, Chase Hunter.”
He holds up his hands in surrender, still smiling though. “I know, Firefly. I didn’t mean…” He stops speaking. “I’m not even going there.”
“No, you are not,” I insist. Even though I’m not entirely sure if he picked me up again right now and carried me to bed, I would stop him. Not sure I’d stop him if he climbed in with me. Nor if he peeled off my dress, and then my panties…
“You okay?” Chase’s concerned voice pulls me from that fantasy and I realize I’m chewing on my lip and staring into space like a moron.
I nod. “Let’s find you a blanket and then we can get some sleep. We have themeet and greettomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he says, and something about the tone of his voice makes me want to wrap my arms around his neck again and just let him hold me. But again, that will be the bourbon thinking and not my brain, which knows that any display of affection would be a huge mistake.
Chapter 8
Addison
# Who knew that making gingerbread houses is not the most exciting use for ginger?
Iburrow further beneath the covers, enjoying the soft, warm duvet and the knowledge that I don’t have to be anywhere but here for a while.
And then reality slaps me in the face. Chase Hunter is here. Outside this very room right now, sleeping on the sofa in my living room. So much for my peaceful few days away. Damn him messing up my alone time.
Alone timeimmediately makes me think of my vibrator, still tucked away in the inside pocket of my suitcase. Lonely and feeling unloved, much like me. And while it’s not an overly noisy instrument of pleasure, it’s a distinctive sound, isn’t it? One that can’t be explained away by any other means. Can’t even pretend it’s my electric toothbrush, because who brushes their teeth for ten whole minutes? And I would be mortified beyond all redemption if Chase heard me getting myself off while he was in the room next door. Arrogant jerkwad would probablyassume I was thinking about him and his insanely toned abs, or his cerulean-blue eyes, or maybe that smile that can melt panties at fifty paces. And I absolutely would not be thinking about any of those things, and I would definitely not be remembering how skilled he is with that mouth. It’s been eight years after all. A girl doesn’t still fantasize about one night eight years later!
And now I really want my vibrator. However, there’s nothing to stop me from going old school and using my fingers. So, I slip my hand into my panties, circle my already swollen clit and arch my back as familiar waves of pleasure start rolling in my core. But I can’t get Chase’s stupid face out of my head. Can’t stop remembering how good he made me feel—the kind of high I’ve never been able to find since, if I’m honest. However, like they always do, those good feelings inevitably lead to the bad ones—what happened after our night together, and the most intense heartbreak I’ve ever experienced.
Damn you to hell, Chase Hunter.
With a sigh, I jump out of bed and pull on my comfy slippers. I need some soothing ginger tea, then I can face whatever fresh hell this day has in store for me.
I have to work to suppress a snort of laughter when I leave the sanctuary of my bedroom and see Chase sleeping on the couch. He’s so tall that his feet are hanging over the end. His arm is thrown over his eyes, probably to shield them from the intensely bright winter sunlight streaming through the window directly in front of him—the one we didn’t close the drapes on. I try not to let my gaze linger on those incredibly toned abs he has, nor the delicious V that disappears beneath the garish purple and orange blanket we found in a closet last night, and fail abysmally. Objectively, he is a fine specimen of man candy. And I’m only looking.
“Need coffee,” he groans, and I tear my eyes away and scurry to the kitchen before he finds me staring at him.
I fill the kettle and grab the box of ginger tea I brought with me before popping a teabag into a purple mug while I wait for the water to boil. When the sound of Chase’s feet signal he’s in the kitchen too, I don’t turn around, steeling myself to not react to his incredibly muscular chest and arms. He has the kind of physique that makes a girl think about being picked up and pinned against a wall or bent over a kitchen island. Pity, his personality is so disappointing.
He begins opening and closing cupboards and he mutters curses under his breath with each one. “Where is the goddamn coffee?” he finally snaps.
I spin around and offer him a sweet smile. “I don’t believe there is any.”
