Page 80 of Drilled (Dad Bod Contracting 2)
“Oh, like you’ve ever spent the entire night with a guy,” Imogen says, sitting up.
“I have too…once…by accident.” I sit up, as well.
We’d both fallen asleep fully clothed, and Imogen is scratching and tugging at her bra straps and underwire.
She glances at me, holding up a finger. “Quick interruption—if I don’t get this bra off right the hell now, I’m going to lose my mind. Just fair warning, I’m letting the girls loose, and I might even give them a good rub down.”
I laugh, already ripping my shirt off and fumbling with my own bra strap. “Last one topless buys the first round at the beach.”
Within seconds, we’re both bare from the waist up, sighing in relief as we rub at the itchy, achy points of compression and friction where our bras had been.
Imogen flops back to the bed with a sigh, still massaging herself. “So. You once woke up with a sausage between your buns. What’d you do?”
I lie beside her, glancing past her at the doorway, marveling at the view from the balcony: sparkling, glittering azure water, white sand beaches, not a cloud in the sky, seagulls wheeling and cawing. “What do you think I did? I grabbed the condom we’d opened and never used, woke him up, told him to put it on, and we fucked, laying down on our sides, still drunk enough that that was about all we could manage. And then we passed out again and I woke up, snuck out, and met you for breakfast.” I laugh. “I never knew his name, and never even looked at his face. When I woke up and snuck out, he was turned away and had the blanket over his head. He could have looked like a cave troll for all I know. He had a nice dick, though, I can tell you that much.”
Imogen is laughing and shaking her head at me. “You’re terrible. You never even saw his face?”
I shrug. “I mean, at the bar, but I was honestly so wasted I barely remember that night. I remember the next morning just fine, though,” I say, laughing.
“I bet you do.” She shakes her head. “I just can’t fathom having sex with someone whose name I don’t know, and someone I have never even seen naked.”
“It was a hell of a thrill, actually. Kind of…naughty, in a way.”
“Don’t you ever just want…something a little deeper?”
I wink at her lasciviously. “I always want something a little deeper.”
She groans, laughing. “Oh my god, you slut. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
I leave the bed, going to the doorway, clad in yoga pants and nothing else. There are probably people down there who could see me if they wanted, as the beach is mere yards away, but it’s kind of fun taking that risk. “Anyway, I thought we weren’t having this kind of conversation?”
“Don’t you care that anyone could look up here and see you topless?” Imogen asks.
“Yeah, I do care a little, but it’s also fun. Plus, I’ll probably make some old rich guy’s day.” I shoot a glance at her. “Come over and try it.”
She yanks the sheet up to cover herself. “NO!”
“Why? You worried about what Jesse would say?”
She snorts. “No!” A hesitation. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t want him wagging his dick at the entire beach, so I’m not going to shake my tits at the entire beach.”
“I have no such impediments,” I say, propping the girls up in both hands and shaking them at the window. Far down the beach, near the water, I see a male silhouette turn this way, glance up as he’s walking, do a double-take, and trip over someone lying on the beach on a towel. I turn away, laughing, spluttering, and covering myself with both hands.
“I just made some guy trip over another person,” I say, backing away from the window out of sight.
Imogen wraps the towel around herself and tiptoes to the edge of the door, peeking out. “Oh my god! They’re arguing! Like, they’re going to start punching each other in a second. The guy is gesturing at the window—now they’re both looking this way.”
“Should I give them a show?” I say, tiptoeing closer.
Imogen snaps the blinds closed and pushes me backward. “No! You definitely should not give random guys on the beach a free boob show. Bad plan.”
“Why?” I ask. “It’s not like they can see details of what I look like, and it’s not like I’ll ever see them again.”
She stands in front of me, resolute. “You’re compensating, Audra.”
I sigh, blowing her a raspberry. “Fine, spoilsport.” I head for the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower, and then we should go get breakfast and hit the beach.”
“Sounds good to me,” Imogen says, watching me carefully.
I stop in the doorway to the bathroom. “I’m not compensating, by the way. I have nothing to compensate for.”
