Beer Goggles Anthology Page 18

  “Yeah. But then I heard the water and figured she was taking a shower. Getting ready for me, you know?” Peter wiggles his eyebrows as the light turns green.

  “Anyway, after her shower, she walked into my room. Naked. Like totally naked and it was the first time that’s happened to me. She was like, really hot, and naked in my room. Naked. So very, very naked.”

  “Stop thinking about her naked,” I growl.

  “And then she passed out on my bed and I couldn’t help myself, I sort of…” He looks away and worry prickles the back of my neck.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I kinda…well, I couldn’t even get my pants off without…you know,” he says in a whisper.

  “You got off in your pants, dude?” Collin asks.

  “Yeah,” he groans. “And then I just kinda fell in bed and passed out.”

  Relief washes through me, knowing that Peter didn’t have sex with Sadie. In fact, I get a little excited at the thought of telling her that she didn’t actually do the nasty with him. But first, I need to drop them off at work, and figure out how to get to Sadie.

  “Another fifteen minutes and we’ll let Sadie pick a winner for a date. I think she has lots of eligible bachelors to choose from, and a few not-so-eligible ones because that last one was married. You’re listening to the Steel Jones Show on WKAT Seattle.”

  Suddenly, a plan starts to take shape in my head.

  A great plan.

  My only plan.

  The only option I have right now for getting close to Sadie.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sadie

  God, make it stop.

  This horrible morning is droning on and on, call after call, my entire life basically flashes before my eyes. Okay, fine. Just a tad dramatic, but that doesn’t make it any less true. This whole situation I seem to have found myself in—involuntarily, I might add—is out of my hands, and frankly, out of control.

  I’m ready to tell Steel that I’m done playing this game, when he pushes the button that takes him back on-air. He’s telling listeners all about me, or an abbreviated version of my story, and stating that he’ll take three more callers before I have to make my decision.

  “I’m Darryl and I’d take her to dinner and bowling. Everyone loves bowling, right?”

  “I don’t know. Does everyone love bowling, Sadie?” Steel asks.

  “Ummmm, well, it’s okay.”

  “Let’s see who else is on the line. You’re on WKAT, who’s this?”

  “This is Blaze. For our first date, I’d take Sadie to a Skillet concert because metal is life.”

  “Do you like heavy metal, Sadie?” Steel asks, his eyes dancing with humor.

  “Not so much,” I add.

  “Well, then let’s see who our final caller is. You’re on The Kat.”

  “Hi.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “What’s your name?” Steel asks.

  “Carter.”

  My heart starts to tap dance in my chest. “Oh, shit.” It isn’t until Steel chuckles that I realize I actually said that out loud.

  “Carter, this is your shot at impressing Producer Sadie. What would you do if you were to win a date with her?”

  He doesn’t hesitate. “Helicopter.”

  That’s all he says. One word. Four syllables and my heart is about to explode from my chest. Suddenly, breathing seems harder than high school geometry. And that was freaking hard!

  “Helicopter?” Steel’s eyebrow disappears into his receding hairline.

  “Yeah, I’d take her for a ride in a helicopter.”

  “Is that a metaphor for something dirty, Carter? Because I gotta be honest with ya, that’s a pretty good pickup line. Do you get lots of chicks with that one?”

  The deep timbers of his laugh filters through the headphones causing goose bumps to pepper my body. “Never used it before, so I wouldn’t know.”

  “Well, I gotta say, man, if it doesn’t work out for you with Producer Sadie, don’t give up on that one. Offering to take a girl on a helicopter ride definitely has some potential. I bet you could get all the chicks with that one,” Steels adds with a laugh.

  “Possibly, but I’m only interested in one chick, and she’s sitting across from you.”

  I gasp audibly, and I’m pretty sure it went out over the airwaves. My poor heart is probably going to give out, as it seems to be pounding fiercely in my chest. Is he really calling the radio station that I work for, seeking a date? A date with me? Holy shitballs, I can’t believe he’s asking me out.

  Well, offering me a date since this is pretty much a stupid competition for the chance to spend the evening with me. A competition in which no one stands a chance when up against Carter Whatever-His-Last-Name-Is. I’ve listened to a dozen callers offer me a first date, but none of them made my pulse pound and my panties wet the way Carter did.

  Of course he’s going to win!

  “Pretty sure, by the look on Sadie’s face, I know who the winner’s going to be. So let’s make this official, Producer Sadie. Who’s winning the date?”

  It was no contest. “Carter.” I’m smiling so broadly that my face hurts.

  Steel starts to end the segment, talking about some of the upcoming music and his predictions on the date, but grabs my attention by pointing over my shoulder. Hesitantly, I glance to my right and see a sight that makes me dizzy with excitement.

  Carter is on the other side of the glass window, a phone to his ear, and smiling that sexy grin. My legs feel like cooked spaghetti as I stand up and walk toward the closed door. Suddenly, I’m pulled backwards, my head almost ripped off my neck.

  Son of a…The headphones.

  After removing the headgear and ignoring Steel’s play-by-play to fifty thousand listeners, I slip out the door. There are bodies in the hallway, most of which are eavesdropping on what could be a very personal conversation. I ignore them, though, as I step up to him. He’s taller and broader than I remember, which considering I memorized every part about him, is saying something.

  “Hi,” he says, taking the cell phone from his ear and sliding it in his pocket.

  “Hi,” I squeak all breathy. Great. I finally see the man of my dreams again and I’ve reverted to acting like a teenager.

  “You picked me.”

  “You called.”

  “I wanted more time,” he says, stepping forward and invading my personal space.

  “I’m glad.” And that’s the truth. I’m so freaking excited that he called.

  “And there’s something else I wanted and didn’t get a chance to have,” he adds as he pushes a piece of my hair across my forehead, and tucking it behind my ear.

  “What’s that?”

  “This,” he says moments before wrapping his arms around my back, pulling me flush against his unforgivingly hard body, and pressing his lips against mine.

  The kiss, oh God, the kiss. It’s the single best kiss of my life. The kinda kiss you see at the very end of the movie, right before they roll the credits. This kiss is consuming and intoxicating, sending lust soaring through my body.

  I feel my nipples tighten against him, even though there are layers of clothing between us. He swipes his tongue along the seam of my lips, begging for admittance. And when our tongues connect? Oh, shit. It’s like magic. Fireworks. Puppies and ice cream. All of the bests in the world, all combined into one fantastic moment.

  Gripping the back of his shirt, I can only hold on and enjoy the ride. His mouth turns almost ravenous as his tongue plunges in and out, tasting and seducing me. He smells like mint and tastes like heaven. He’s breathtaking.

  The kiss ends way too soon for my liking, but when I realize where we are, I understand why he concluded the connection. We were a half second away from ripping each other’s clothes off and doing dirty things on the dirty hallway carpet. And for all of my coworkers to witness.

  “So, about that date?” he asks, his smiling eyes gazing down at mine
. God, he’s gorgeous. I’m pretty sure I’d follow this man anywhere.

  “What about it?” I ask, keeping my arms wrapped around his waist so he can’t run away.

  “You busy for lunch?”

  “No.”

  “Then we start with lunch. You better go ahead and clear your dinner schedule, as well.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Definitely,” he says before starting to bend down, his mouth angling for another kiss.

  “Wait. Won’t this be weird? You know, after the other night?” I whisper.

  “Actually, about that. You didn’t sleep with Peter. He told everyone you did, but you passed out beforehand, and he creamed his jeans before he could even strip naked.”

  “He lost it before he could even take off his pants?”

  “Yep. Not that I blame him, though. I’ve seen you naked. It’s pretty spectacular.”

  “God, I still can’t believe he’s seen me naked. And slept next to me in bed. So gross.”

  “Honestly, you might see him again. He’s best friends with my brother, so there’s always a chance we’ll run into him from time to time. But as long as he keeps his mouth shut and his hands to himself, I won’t have a problem with little Petey.”

  I giggle as warmth spreads through my veins. He basically just claimed me as his own, and while a part of me should remind him that I belong to no one, a bigger piece of me is schoolgirl giddy with excitement. Because the thought of being his girl seems like a pretty fucking fantastic concept.

  “What time is your lunch?”

  “Noon.”

  “I’ll meet you out front. I have a few errands to run, furniture to buy, a job to secure so I can take you for a helicopter ride.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Since we’re still standing close, it’s no effort at all for him to reach down and grab my face, pulling me gently into another kiss. This one’s not nearly long enough, but still packs a wallop of a punch to my libido. My girl parts are singing as he releases me and steps back.

  “See you in a bit,” he adds with a smile.

  “’Kay.”

  I watch his retreating backside head down the hall. God, it’s such a nice ass. One I wouldn’t mind becoming more acquainted with in the very near future. It’s not like I haven’t gotten an eyeful of the rest of him, and the rest was pretty damn remarkable. Might as well even things out, ya know?

  Suddenly, I’m dizzy with excitement. You couldn’t pry my smile off my face with a putty knife and a blowtorch.

  I’m so ready for this date!

  Some oh, shit moments are life-changing. Sometimes you find yourself in the wrong bed with the wrong guy. Sometimes you’re standing naked in a steamy bathroom before a Greek god with more muscles than a gym locker room. Sometimes you have to do the walk of shame on your first day of a new position. And sometimes it all happens at once, and ends up leading to a date.

  My oh, shit moment?

  Mine was epic.

  About the Author

  Lacey Black is a Midwestern girl with a passion for reading and writing. She carries her e-reader with her everywhere she goes so she never misses an opportunity to read a few pages. Always looking for a happily ever after, Lacey is passionate about contemporary romance novels and enjoys it further when you mix in a little suspense. She resides in a small town in Illinois with her husband, two children, and a chocolate lab. Lacey loves shooting guns and should only consume one mixed drink because she’s a lightweight.

  Lacey’s debut novel, Trust Me, was released in August 2014 and has been a Bestseller twice for Free e-books, including #1 on multiple platforms. Submerged and Profited each earned her the title of International Bestseller.

  Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/authorlaceyblack

  Twitter:

  https://twitter.com/AuthLaceyBlack

  Instagram:

  https://www.instagram.com/laceyblackwrites/

  Blog:

  https://laceyblack.wordpress.com

  Oh Tequila

  By C.A. Harms

  Prologue

  Oh, Tequila, how you have brought me to oblivion so many times before. A great stage of euphoria, leaving me feeling afloat. No troubles; you made it all seem perfect.

  You helped me relax when I was tense.

  You helped me get through many occasions I would have rather skipped.

  You and I had an agreement. You would give me only what I needed and never would you overstay your welcome. You would not invade my life and leave me to regret your presence. You would be known only in the best kind of way.

  But for the first time, Tequila, you failed me.

  You left me in a terrible haze, and I can’t find my god damn wallet. Or my left shoe.

  How the hell does one lose their shoe? You might ask.

  My answer: I have no fucking clue.

  I know at one point I was fully dressed, including two shoes, pants, and a shirt.

  Well let’s just say that now my zipper in my jeans is broken, my shirt is missing a sleeve, and I feel a slight breeze through the large hole in the left side of my boxer briefs.

  And only one fucking shoe.

  I have a pounding headache, Tequila, which tells me you obviously overused me. My mouth tastes like how I imagine ass would taste. And I feel sick, like really sick.

  But I can’t blame only you; I have to include my brothers too.

  Those fuckers insisted I let loose.

  They insisted that for me to get over Britney, I needed to get under another chick. Apparently my moping ass had gotten on their nerves and it was time to relocate my balls. Their words, not mine.

  My fraternity brothers are rowdy and fearless. Those dicks don’t care. They took college life to the extreme, and up until now I have managed to keep my head on straight.

  That has come to an end, I’m afraid. For one night at least I lowered myself to their level.

  Those assholes taunted me and pushed me until I finally gave in and just went with the flow. Drink after drink, shot after shot.

  “You need a wild night to forget all about what’s her name,” they said.

  “You need to relax and have a good time,” they said. “Forget all your troubles and enjoy life.”

  Can I just say at this point I can’t remember shit? I’m not enjoying the after effects of my night of living it up.

  You would think by now I’d listen to the voice ringing in my head, saying They always get into trouble. Stay clear of their chaos and destruction.

  Every single time.

  But no, I went along with their plans for a night of partying, and let’s just say I am now fucked—literally.

  The worst part about it is I don’t remember how I got where I am now. I have absolutely no memory of the events that took place once I arrived.

  And the person staring back at me with a gleam in their eye is freaking me out. I don’t care much for their smirk, either. It gives my already rolling stomach more reasons to twist.

  Chapter One

  Xavier

  Twenty-four hours earlier

  “We drew names and Red is the sober brother for tonight’s party,” Isaac, our fraternity president, announced as he looked around the room.

  All eyes were on Elijah as he sat with his arms crossed, scanning the room with a smirk on his face. He looked pretty damn pleased with the announcement.

  Corbin was the first one to complain about our so-called sitter for the evening. “No way, man, last time that asshole shaved my eyebrows after I passed out in the upstairs bathroom.”

  “At least he didn’t pull your pants down, put a big purple dildo in your hand, and take pictures of you. Then decide to share them on social media,” Clayton, Corbin’s twin brother mumbled. Chuckles from all the brothers around the room began and Red continued to sit in the same place still wearing the some smug grin.

  The pride in Red’s eyes made it obvious he’d do it all over again if he had the chance. There was absolu
tely no regret there.

  The guy loved when his name was chosen. We could almost instantly see the wheels turning in his mind. Oh, the possibilities were endless.

  He would rather spend every party sober if it meant he’d gain the chance to torture all of us. Elijah was rewarded the name Red because of the obvious. His hair.

  The guy was three hundred plus pounds of solid force. He was the quarterback of the football team and an all-around jokester.

  Ever seen a man with a red afro? It was coarse, wild hair that he did nothing to tame.

  But he’d his share of torment handed to him too.

  At the hands of me.

  “Well I think Red got his last month,” I said, all attention now focused on me. Elijah’s eyes narrowed and the earlier smug look on his face was gone. “How long did it take you to get your hand released from your ass cheek, Red?”

  “Fuck you,” he mumbled and once again everyone laughed. Only this time the humor was directed at the person responsible for torturing each one of us at one point or another.

  But I had a feeling his time for paying me back was coming.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have superglued his hand to his bare ass cheek. But it was funny as shit watching him try to get it to let go while the rest of us sat around and laughed. Even when he practically begged for us to help, we each chose to sit back and watched the show.

  Red still glared at me, and I could practically hear his mind churning.

  “I had sores on my ass for weeks after that,” he complained.

  “I told you to stop tugging.” I kept a straight face while everyone around us continued to laugh and make comments quietly. “I also told you that they recommend fingernail polish remover, or submerging yourself in water, to remove the glue.”

  “Yeah I know, but none of you assholes would get me any, and it’s next to impossible to buckle my fucking pants with my hand glued to my ass so I could go to the store. Forget putting on a shirt.” More laughter erupted. “And Dicks One and Two were occupying both bathrooms, apparently both suffering from the shits, so you tell me how I could submerge my ass in water?”