The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(34)

She squeezed her water bottle, spraying me with a thin stream of water. The cold was a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat inside the club even though it was nearly freezing outside.

“Hey!” I grabbed it from her and shot some back. It sprayed all over her with a lot more force than I’d intended, covering her face.

She gasped, covering herself with her arm. The water dripped off her skin.

I clenched my teeth together and sucked in a breath. Shit. I was probably going to get a kick to the nuts.

She dropped her arm and faced me with her mouth hanging open. “You jerk!” Her shocked face quickly changed into a smile and I could breathe again. Most girls would have freaked out about water on their face messing up their makeup or hair, but she didn’t care. Now she was out for revenge. We wrestled with the bottle, each getting the other a little bit wetter before I let her wrench it away from me.

She held it out in front of her menacingly. “You’d better be glad I’m thirsty.” She squeezed the remains of the bottle into her mouth, spilling even more water on herself.

Without thinking, I reached out and wiped away the liquid dripping off her chin, rubbing it away with my thumb. The tip of my finger grazed her bottom lip. My heart collided with my ribs. The world froze. The people on the dance floor disappeared. Nothing existed except for my thumb and her smooth, full lip. Her tongue darted out, nearly grazing my thumb, and I swore my dick jumped like a drill sergeant had called him. I wanted her to wrap those lips around my thumb. I wanted to taste those lips and even more of her. A hunger I’d never felt before pounded in my gut. I wanted to taste all of her.

She looked at me and tilted her head to the side like she was trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. Get in line, Seph.

“We need more shots.” LJ stumbled into her and I dropped my hand.

She laughed and took the glass from his hands. The depths of the trouble I was getting myself into hadn’t even been calculated yet.





13





Seph





Lifting my arms over my head, I yawned and sat up in bed. Other than my mouth feeling like a dirty dish, I’d have thought the morning after a night out would be rougher. In movies and TV shows, people were always like the walking dead in the morning after drinking, but maybe that was just an exaggeration. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and hit a lump—a grumbling lump.

Jerking my feet back, I peeked down with my knees up against my chest. On my floor, the lump peeled back the blanket covering his face. Reece dropped his head back down onto one of my pillows and pulled the blanket down a bit.

Biting my lip, I looked down at myself. I was completely clothed and in my bed. Why was I still wearing the clothes I’d gone out in? I never went to bed without changing into my pajamas.

He rolled over and opened one of his eyes. “How are you feeling?” He shoved his hands behind his head. The muscles in his arms bunched, showing off the definition from his dedication to the gym. I wondered what they would feel like wrapped around me… Stop setting yourself up for another disappointment. He’s a friend.

“Morning.” I pushed my blanket the rest of the way off and stared down at myself. “I’m still in my clothes from yesterday.” My top gaped open at the bottom where Berkley had unbuttoned the bottom four buttons and knotted it when I’d asked for a club makeover. It was the best he could do. My camisole was bunched up under my bra.

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

“You’re here because I’m still in my clothes?” I scrunched my eyebrows.

“No, the fact you didn’t change your clothes before falling asleep made me believe you were in for a world of hurt in the morning, and no one was home when I dropped you off. I didn’t want to abandon you here for your first hangover.”

My memories of the previous night were crystal clear. Reece had made me get into a cab after LJ and Berkley tried to get me to go up onto the stage with the DJ to dance. That was the type of thing people were supposed to do when they went out drinking, right? Embarrassing things their friends would tell them about in the morning?

“Why didn’t you want me to dance on the stage?” I put my hands on my hips.

Reece’s gaze dropped to my stomach. A slight chill ran through me, not because of my now exposed stomach but because of the sizzle on my skin as his gaze raked across my body. I wanted to grab him, wrap my legs around his hips, and shove those boxers down over his ass then convince him he was more than up for the job. Maybe I was drunk. Alcohol made people drop their inhibitions like undies around ankles.

“I remember getting home and then…nothing.” I ran my fingers—well, attempted to run my fingers through my hair. My braid had turned into a tangled mess on the crown of my head.

“You were talking and normal the entire time we were on the way here in the cab. You re-braided your hair, going on and on about your hand-eye coordination. You kept telling me you weren’t drunk and not to worry, but I figured I’d escort you home like a gentleman, especially since I’m working as your guide.

“We got in the elevator. You unlocked your front door and told me it was fine to leave and then curled up in a ball on the floor right inside the open door. I’m talking out cold. I tried to wake you up for a good ten minutes before bringing you in here.” He sat up, his broad, muscled body slowly revealing itself from under my white, quilted afghan. “It wasn’t hard figuring out what room was yours, so I put you in bed.”