Shame on Him - Page 28/40

The cab driver shakes his head and pulls the car away from the curb.

“Lorelei, are you drunk dialing me?” Dallas asks in shock.

“I can neither confirm nor deny this statement, Your Honor,” I tell him, dissolving into another fit of giggles. “My mother bought an orgasm. And my father’s never given her a pole dance.”

Dallas barks out a laugh. “Wow. That must have been some wedding. How long before you get here?”

“I don’t know. But make sure you’re not wearing any pants.”

I end the call and let my head flop to the back of the seat.

I must have dozed off because a few seconds later, I hear Dallas’s voice.

“It’s okay; I’ve got her. Keep the change.”

The back door opens and I sit up as Dallas leans into the car and pulls me out. I lose my footing on the curb when I step out and he wraps both of his arms around me and pulls me against him. He smells so good and he’s so warm. I snuggle my face into his chest and take a deep breath.

He slams the door closed and the cab takes off. “Did you just sniff me?”

I look up at his face and see that he’s smiling. “You smell yummy.”

He laughs, walking me up the sidewalk, and leads me through his front door without saying another word. In my alcohol-addled brain, I wonder if I’ve made him angry for showing up drunk and uninvited. And sniffing him.

He grabs my purse from my hand and tosses it onto the couch before turning to look at me. His eyes take me in from head to toe and he whistles.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful. That dress . . . fuck me, that dress,” he says.

My heart soars and my body heats up at his words.

“Why are you still wearing pants?” I whisper, walking up to him and sliding my hands up his chest.

He laughs, skimming the tips of his fingers over my cleavage. Goose bumps break out on my skin and I close my eyes.

I quickly realize that was not a wise move. The room starts to spin and my stomach churns. I feel his lips on my neck and I quickly open my eyes, forcing the nausea back down.

He kisses his way up the side of my neck and the tip of his tongue traces a small circle right behind my ear. I’m torn between the need I feel for him and the need to throw up. I’m not really sure right now which one is going to win.

Dallas pulls his face away from the side of my neck and stares into my eyes. I try really hard to focus on him, but I’m not sure which “him” to look at. Right now I see three.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is not to strip you naked right now?” he whispers.

“The dress has a zipper on the side—it’s not that hard,” I tell him.

He chuckles and cups my face in his hands. “I’d prefer it if you were a little more coherent the first time I take you.”

I want to tell him that’s the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me. I want to tell him that I’ve never ached for anyone as much as I do him. I want to tell him so many things and they’re all swirling around in my brain begging to be let out.

But instead, I just pat my hand against his cheek.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

He takes a step back and points down the hall. I cover my mouth and make a mad dash for the bathroom.

Whoever thought getting drunk was a good idea should be shot.

CHAPTER 16

Rolling over with a sigh, I snuggle my body closer to the warmth in my bed. I slide my hand across smooth skin and briefly wonder if Kennedy shaved Snowball when I wasn’t looking. Slowly opening my eyes, I glance across the pillow and see Dallas smiling at me.

“HOLY SHIT!”

Scrambling away from him, I move to the edge of the bed and sit up, the action causing my brain to feel like it’s going to explode. Squinting my eyes to try and make the pain go away, I stare at his body, naked from the waist up. Looking down at myself quickly, I see that I have a T-shirt on.

“Where’s my dress?”

Dallas raises his arm and points to the corner of the room. My dress is draped over the back of the chair and my shoes are on the floor next to it.

Oh, my God. Did we have sex? Why can’t I remember? And why does it feel like someone kicked me in the head?

I reach my hand up and rest it on my forehead.

“There’s aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand next to you,” he says casually as he pushes himself up to lean against the headboard.

I hear his words, but I can’t process them. All I can do is stare at his naked chest and all of the ink on his arms. Unfortunately, my head is screaming at me to do something. I turn my gaze away from Dallas, and down the pills and the entire glass of water.

Setting the glass back down, I find him staring at me. I’m sure I look super this morning. I drank so much I didn’t take my hair down or wash off my makeup. I probably look like a circus clown.

“Did I . . . I mean, did we . . .” I trail off, pointing between the two of us.

He laughs and shakes his head at me. “No. No, we did not. I’m going to make us some breakfast. I think I have an extra toothbrush and stuff in the bathroom if you want to shower.”

He slides out of bed and I stare at his back while he pulls a pair of jeans on over his black boxer briefs. Thank God we didn’t have sex last night. That’s something I would like to remember.

“Did you change my clothes for me?”

If he saw me naked while I was completely obliterated, I will be mortified.

“Don’t worry; I didn’t look. I pulled one of my T-shirts on over your dress and you did the rest yourself. I was going to let you sleep in here and crash on the couch, but with the amount of liquor you threw up in my toilet, I figured I’d better sleep next to you and make sure you didn’t die,” he tells me with a laugh as he walks from the room.