Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“You can’t sober up here. That might take hours, and—”
“You’re right. I should rest first. I’ll take a nap on the sofa.”
“No.”
He widened his eyes as if insulted by my lack of hospitality. “Okay, I’ll stay outside.”
“It’s freezing, Denny. It might even snow tonight.”
“Really? Good ’cause I’m hot.” He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly.
“Whoa! You can’t undress here,” I whisper-hissed. “This is public property, for fuck’s sake.”
He wrinkled his nose and pointed at the trees. “No one cares. Only owls, and ’sides, you’re not gonna propzishun me anyway. I guess I’ll keep my boxers on. ’S like going swimming…but no pool. Totally decent. I’ve never done any indecent exposures. Imma genzleman. You’re the one who’s naughty. You got the propzishuns, not me.”
“This is the slurring part.” I was getting more alarmed by the second.
Denny snickered. “Told ya…so ’barrassing. Grams recorded me one night to warn me I had a blabbermouth. She said, ‘You gotta wash it, Den. If you can’t hold your liquor, best put your glass down.’ I don’t even know what that means.”
“I think it means you should know when to stop drinking.”
“Oh…thas prolly it. Have you met Grams?”
“No, I have not met your grandmother,” I deadpanned.
“You gotta meet her. She’s funny, but unin—uninhabited? No, thas not it. Unin…the thing where you’re not tryina be funny and that makes it funnier.”
He wrinkled his nose as he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans.
“Unintentional,” I offered weakly.
Sweet Jesus. Even his quads were a thing of beauty.
“That’s it! She calls people on their shit and gets away with it. Every time.” Denny slipped his thumbs under the elastic of his boxer briefs.
“No, Denny.”
“ ’S true. Grams dresses as the Grim Reaper at Halloween and sits in the town square smoking cigarettes and telling anyone who bugs her to watch the fuck out or they’re next.”
“That’s kind of…mean.”
He chortled merrily. “Yeah, she’s terrible, but like…she’s awesome too.”
“I’m sure she is,” I agreed, clearing my throat noisily. “Stop doing what you’re doing.”
Denny froze. “What’d I do?”
“Your hands. Just…put ’em up.”
Wrong thing to say. His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Oh, now this is a good propzishun. You should do a citizen arrest.” He raised his arms and dropped them with a frown. “No, don’t do that. I can’t go to jail. My coach would be pissed. I think I’m gonna have a headache tomorrow and I have to get on a plane. That’s gonna suck. Do you have aspirin? Do you have a bed?”
Great.
“I have Advil. Let’s go inside.” I pushed him toward the open door, pausing to gather his clothes and shoes. “Put these on and—holy shit.”
He was naked.
Naked.
There was a naked hockey player standing in the middle of my hotel room, hands on his hips, his flaccid thick penis resting proudly between his sculpted thighs.
I licked my lips and swiped at the corner of my mouth in case I was drooling. Hey, I was only human and this man was a work of art. I wanted to paint him, touch him, fuck him hard and put him away wet and ready for round two, round three.
But he wasn’t working with a full deck, and I wasn’t a lowlife asshole. I had to deal with this situation maturely and reasonably.
Christ, this evening had utterly and officially spiraled out of control. I wasn’t sure how we’d devolved to this point. It was…shocking, puzzling, absurd.
Denny set his hands on his hips and winked. “You’re staring at my dick. I don’t blame you. It’s big, huh?”
“Denny…”
“Watch this. I can make it bigger.” He swayed back and forth, then gripped his pole at the base and stroked.
“Denny…no. Stop. You need aspirin, right?”
“Aspirin?”
“Yes,” I choked out. “I’ll get that. Just…please, put your clothes on so I can take you home.”
“ ’Kay.” He flashed a sleepy smile and scratched his gorgeous balls.
Yeah, I looked. I couldn’t help it. He was all out there—big and beautiful, not a hint of shame.
“All right. I’ll…” I gestured to the bathroom. “Gimme two seconds.”
“Thanks, cowboy.”
My mind spun with a new game plan as I rummaged through my toiletries. I shouldn’t try to take him home myself. It would be smarter to call one of his friends for help. I’m sure he’d agree…when he was sober.
So it took me closer to fifteen seconds than two to return with ibuprofen. Not enough time for anything catastrophic to occur, right?
Wrong.
Denny Mellon had passed out.
Buck-ass naked.
On my bed.
Fuck.
Me.
I set the Advil on the nightstand and tapped his arm. “Denny, wake up.”
Nothing.
I tried again with a bit more force, nudging his shoulder and chest.
He smacked his lips together and rolled to side. “Nhgn.”
“Denny!”
The little fucker was out cold.
Shit.
I hunted in the pockets of his jeans for his cell, but of course, it was locked. I shoved the screen in front of his face, hoping facial ID would work as a password. If I could get to his contacts, one of his friends could bail me out and take over. I wasn’t sure I could explain how this happened without sounding desperate, conniving, and possibly depraved, but I’d work that out later.