I took a couple of steps back, feeling all the heat that our bodies had generated bleed away just as quickly as it had built. I shivered, and he saw it. The corners of his mouth twitched.

Aw, hell. I want to kiss him again. I wanted to lick the edges of that secret, wicked smile. Discover the taste of his mouth. Feel his wet, hot tongue circle my still hard nipples, split my slippery wet pussy lips, and fit around my aching clit. I folded my arms over my chest and backed up a couple more feet.

No. This was bad. Not good. Dirty. Wrong. Bad.

And I want it — want him.

Worse than wanting him? I was pretty sure Tommy wanted me, too.

5

Tomás

My first waking breath tasted like last night’s whiskey. I stank of chlorine, sweat, and…was that pepperoni? “Oh, fuck,” I grumbled, covering my eyes with my hand.

The drunken night I’d tried to avoid had happened, and in a spectacular fashion, if the conditions of my aching body and head were any indication. Hell, it felt like it was still happening in my head.

Like some frat boy, I’d allowed my college friends to bully me into getting shitfaced even though I knew the schedule we had to keep. Now, it felt like a tiny gnome with a pickaxe was hacking away at my temples, and I was just coming to the realization that I was lying in a wet bed.

“Wait…”

Did I top off this night by wetting the bed like a five-year-old?

Damn, I drank a lot in college, but pissing myself was not the end result of any of those drunken binges. Some brawls, and maybe some questionable sex partners, but…

Slowly and carefully, I opened my eyes just enough to look down the length of my body. I was still wearing the shorts I had on yesterday, but now they were dark and damp — thankfully, not just in the crotch. Gradually, memories of last night’s activities began to filter through the hammering in my head.

The pool.

I’d jumped in the pool in my shorts and underwear after getting into a heated argument with Scott. And then I’d climbed straight into bed with them on.

That explained the sweat-and-chlorine stench that hung over my pain-wracked and dehydrated body.

Fuck…

Things weren’t supposed to go this sideways. I was Mr.-Fucking-Responsibility. It was my job to keep these fools in line.

“God…where the fuck is my phone?” I groaned, levering myself out of the bed with nothing but sheer will to get me to my feet. The moment I stood up, my wet shorts tugged downward. I patted my pockets, but the phone wasn’t there.