Drunk and Disorderly (Love in the City Short) Page 4

  “God, you’re so soft,” Coop mumbles his words against my lips not wanting to break our connection. “I want you in my bed. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  And with that one tiny word, sets Coop off a series of motions. He bends and places one arm behind my knee. The next thing I know I’m airborne and being cradled in his arms baby style, pulled to his chest.

  “Oh…” I let out a small cry when he’s lifting me from the ground, a reaction to his actions as they’ve caught me totally off guard.

  He answers me by returning his lips back to my neck while drawing me up even higher in his arms. I fling my head back to give him better access, completely submitting to him.

  I can’t believe what’s happening to me. It’s a scene from a movie. A page out of a romance book. That’s what this feels like, being totally swept off my feet and carried away. He’s my Rhett and I feel like Scarlett. We are in Atlanta after all. Now he’s moving and heading to his room, I think.

  Let’s be honest, ladies. We’ve all dreamt about this kind of a swoony experience. A hot man finds you so desirable he can’t wait another second to have you. He’s not even willing to wait for you to walk to his bedroom. He waits you there now, so he takes matters into his own hands, literally.

  His bedroom. After walking down a long, arched hallway, that’s where we are now. Even though it’s a bright afternoon, the sun hides behind dark stained plantation shutters that are closed snugly against the windows. Rays of light peak through tiny cracks in the slats, flickering across us as he transports me toward his bed.

  The setting is perfect, dreamlike. It’s intimate, enticing, and so dangerous for someone like me. But I close my eyes and just feel, lost in the sensations as he lowers me to his waiting bed below.

  The comforter he lays me on is soft, plush. I sink into it and he climbs on to the bed next to me. Gently, he rests part of his body on top of me and his perfect lips find mine again, continuing to build the passion between us. His weight shifts a little and I feel his erection pressing against my hip. I move against him and he groans.

  Me, Millie, just made Mr. Football moan out loud. I can’t believe the effect I’m having on him. God knows he’s had me under his spell since he walked into Joe’s bar.

  His hands make their way under my shirt, unclasping my bra with practiced skill. But I remove that thought from my mind as his fingers find my breasts then nipples. I arch my back into his touch, wanting and needing more. He raises my shirt, exposing me to him for the first time. While he gazes at my breasts, I remove my top and bra. His eyes look into mine and I swear he’s thanking me just by his look. And then he descends. He finds a nipple with his mouth. His fingers discover the other one.

  It’s pleasure and ecstasy as he twists, sucks and pulls at me. His attention to my sensitive nipples makes me squirm and shift under him. During my movement my legs part and he positions himself between them, spreading me wider. I do nothing to stop him.

  “I’ve wanted to touch you since I first saw you.”

  His words are shocking. Me?

  “Yes, you. So fucking sexy.” Oh damn. I must’ve said that question out loud.

  I want to tell him I feel the same about him, but the words don’t come. Instead, I try to show him my feelings by pulling his shirt up and running my hands down his back, grazing my nails across him until he shivers at my touch.

  Muscles, tensing and relaxing are what my fingers meet as they wander aimlessly, learning his body. He’s solid. Not an ounce of fat. He radiates strength.

  He starts to descend lower on my stomach. Kissing and licking a trail to the top of my shorts. I look down at him. Our eyes meet and his are trained on mine. Hot with desire, I’m panting with anticipation. He’s totally in charge right now. He’s calling all the shots, but I’m not sure where he’s headed.

  Quickly Coop rises to his knees and places his hands around my left leg. He raises it up almost to his shoulder. I watch him reach for the tied strings of leather on my sandals. He tugs on a strap releasing it from its knot. The ends are free now and he torturously unwinds them around my ankle. Deliberately slow. It’s like he’s making a meal out of his act. Three courses including an after dinner drink!

  When the last of the straps is freed, he pulls my sandal away from my foot and tosses it to the side. Before it lands on the floor, he’s already working on the other one. It too succumbs to his slow and methodical removal. I’m practically ready to scream, “Just take the damn thing off and screw me already.” His slowness is killing me.

  From the smirky grin on his face, I’m rather certain he knows what he’s doing to me. It’s on purpose like he wants me begging for mercy. And I decide that I’m not too proud to beg.

  “Oh god, Coop. Please…” I hardly recognize my voice. I’ve never felt this kind of passion before. Maybe it’s the naughtiness. Who knows?

  “Please, what, baby?” God he’s gonna make me say it.

  “I want you. In… Me… Now…” Maybe it’s still my tipsy head, but I’ve jumped off the cliff.

  After my declaration, Coop growls like a tiger. It’s more of a roar and he rolls over me stopping somewhere between my thighs. I want him in a desperate way. Like he’s my next breath. So I yield to his hands as they paw at my shorts and my panties. I think only my shorts survive his claws as my panties disintegrate into several pieces. Nothing appears to be safe and I hope that includes me.

  Swiftly his fingers find me, part me, and caress.

  “Oh, God. You’re so wet,” Coop practically moans.

  Normally, I would die at words like this. I mean I don’t know him at all. We’re strangers, but just the opposite happens as I push myself against his fingers. Wanton. Eager for more. And he doesn’t disappoint. His head lowers and you know what’s next. Yes, his tongue. And now it’s my turn to cry out.

  “God! Yes!” I’m literally screaming now. My first not self-induced orgasm in a year feels so close. He licks and pushes his tongue against me. I run my fingers through his hair and push him down even harder, needing a little more as I feel myself starting to explode.

  I shatter, fall apart. My body splinters like a million pieces of me are scattered around the room. Crying out, I hold his head tightly in place. Damn if I’ll let him move.

  Slowly, I release him from the death grip of my hands. He sits up again and I’m greeted with a salacious smile. He’s rather proud of himself it appears and so am I. As a teacher, I think he deserves an A+ for all his efforts. And a towel for his face, if you know what I mean. Nothing says a job well done like a dripping chin!

  “Enjoy that, baby?” he says while standing up from the bed. I nod as I’m not sure if my voice is functioning yet, my entire body still humming from my orgasm.

  Watching mesmerized, I see him remove his shirt and cargo shorts. He’s beautiful. Chiseled. I feel like I’m back in art class studying works carved in marble. I can’t wait to feel him, touch him.

  I hold my breath as his hands come back up to his boxer briefs. His erection is hardly contained and with one swift move, it’s freed. My breath hitches at the sight. There sure is a lot of him to fit in little old me, but I’m all for trying. God, Coop may ruin me for other men.

  “Ready or not, here I come?” He smiles all sexy, teasing.

  I nod again, silent as he crawls up between my legs and lies some of his weight against me. I instinctively bend my knees and place my feet flat on the bed. They dip into the softness, gripping for a foothold.

  I feel him run his length against my sex. Up and down. Pressing. I’m still sensitive from my orgasm. All my feelings are heightened. I’ve heard of multiple orgasms but have never gotten even close before. But those times were Pre-Coop. I think my sex life will now have a dividing line called BC/AC: before Coop, after Coop.

  Slowly he moves up my body and reaches for his nightstand. I thought he wanted me to return the oral favor at first, but when I see him pull out a shiny foil packet, I’m relieved. Even tho
ugh I’m on the Pill, I’d be the lucky girl who got some horrible STD the first time she had casual sex.

  The foil packet’s dangling in front of my face as he holds it between his fingers. “Suit me up, baby.” I have to chuckle, because even with my limited football knowledge, I know players use this term. What a typical guy. Chocked full of romance and all.

  Coop places the packet in my waiting hand. I’ve never done this before. All my boyfriends and I were monogamous so there was no need. But I attended a public high school, sat through health class as we sheathed bananas so this should be easy. I hope.

  I tear the foil at the little cut indent and pull the condom out. I pause and look up at his face. His eyes are definitely giving me the go-ahead signal. I scoot down beneath him just a little as he’s on knees with his legs resting on both sides of me.

  I come face to face with the part of him that needs to be suited up. My hands rise up to touch him. He’s velvet and stone. Hot and strong. Daringly, I pump my hand up and down the length of him. He moans and I squirm at the sound. There’s something powerful about making him come undone.

  His reaction spurs me on even more and I bravely open my mouth, letting my lips enclose around him. Ridges of him meeting my tongue while my hand still holds him, moving. Now I swear he’s starting to shake. The arms that are holding him up are trembling as a result of what I’m doing to him.

  “Oh, God.” He moans with words slurred together. “I want you now.”

  He moves away from me in a flash. I eye him in question, but his intentions are made clear quickly when he grabs the condom out of my hand and rolls it down himself in one quick motion. He settles between my legs one more time, lining himself up with me, then bucks his hips.

  In that one solid motion, he’s in me and I cry out, not from pain, more from the unexpected onslaught. He stills as my cry subsides then looks me in the eye, searching my face to see if I’m okay.

  I push my hips forward while he’s motionless, wanting more, he gets the message I’m sending and unleashes. Lifting my ass in his hands, he sits up more on his knees and starts relentlessly thrusting into me. He’s in total control of my body. It’s his alone right now.

  I close my eyes as my back arches off the bed, greedily receiving everything he’s giving me. I’ve never had sex like this before. Bordering rough. It’s a forceful, intense passion. I know I’m totally ruined for anyone else now as I feel another orgasm approaching. All I can do now is submit to it and chant Oh my God over and over. A litany to his rhythmic thrusts.

  “Oh… My… God…” My final chorus is a long, drawn-out shout as I explode again.

  He falls forward, leaning on an elbow, but his pounding continues as his fingers touch me where I’m detonating. They’re gentle but potent, prolonging my high. Coop sure knows what the hell he’s doing. Fortunate for me.

  As I’m descending from some place on the ceiling, he follows me calling my name out as he comes. It’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard.

  Coop collapses on top of me. We’re trying to catch our breaths, as he looks down into my eyes. Honestly, I’m a little nervous at this moment. What does one say in the afterglow of hook-up sex? Thanks? I’m clueless.

  “Hi there.” Thankfully, Coop breaks the silence with the first words he spoke to me at Joe’s Bar.

  “Hi there,” I reply back but giggle as I do. I find it funny, but oddly comforting. He’s definitely not brushing me off which is a plus in this situation.

  Rolling over to his side, Coop breaks our connection. But he wraps an arm around me and draws me to him. His fingers brush the hair away from my face and neck. I gaze up at him and find him smiling at me. He has a content look on his face, one that I helped to place there.

  “Millie, that was unreal. God, I don’t want to let you go.”

  Wow, I wasn’t expecting that at all. It’s completely unexpected and maybe a little over the top. Does he say that to all the girls that warm his bed? Keep them from regretting their decision to sleep with him? I wish I knew.

  “Unreal is an understatement.” That’s the best I can do right now. I’d like to say, “Thanks,” but that seems a bit strange. It’s not like he just passed me the potatoes.

  I snuggle closer into him, closing my eyes as his fingers skate over my back. Sweet, light circles…

  Chapter 6

  I am hot, overheated. My eyes are closed but I know exactly where I am. Coop’s bed, where a plaque should hang saying, “The site of Millie’s first illicit rendezvous.”

  I slowly open my eyes and realize why I feel like a furnace is blowing on me. I’m right up against Coop’s body. He’s asleep on his back and I’m tucked into his side, my face plastered to his chest.

  We must’ve fallen asleep like this. Both of us. An exhausting round of sex can do that to a person. I’m speaking like an expert here, which is the furthest thing from the truth. But I believe we were both spent.

  How do I move without waking him up? I have to get up and go to the bathroom, but don’t want to face him awake yet. The alcohol’s effect on numbing my brain in the decision-making department has left me. I’m facing reality now as well as a naked man. Jeez, what the hell was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn’t. Silly me.

  Slowly, I wiggle away from him, stopping every few inches, hopefully making less of a disturbance. He doesn’t move a muscle as I reach the edge of the bed and gingerly scoot off it, my feet now on the floor.

  There’s a set of double doors on the wall opposite the bed. I pray it’s his master bath and proceed toward them. When I quietly open them, I see a room straight out of a magazine. A shower for ten, encased in glass with a mosaic tiles on the wall. It’s breathtaking. I’ve decided it’s good to be an athlete.

  I tiptoe across the cold tile floor to the toilet, which has its own special little room. Nice and private. After finishing, I stop in front of the mirror over the double sinks. I am completely naked and my hair’s a hornet’s nest. Medusa has nothing on me other than being clothed.

  I collapse onto the counter with my head in my hands. It’s decision time for me and like the chicken shit that I am I decide to flee. Get the hell out of his house before he wakes up. I know what you’re likely saying. “He told you he didn’t want to let you go.” Wonderful comment in the moments after our shared bliss, but I didn’t want to face the fact that it was likely just a line, a comeback.

  Gathering up all my clothes, I put them back on in record time. I stuff my shredded panties into my pocket. Not the kind of DNA evidence I want to leave on the scene.

  Coop is still asleep. He hasn’t stirred at all since I left his bed and looks dead to the world. Seeing him quiet and peaceful is such a contrast to when he was screwing my brains out. I sigh and quietly say goodbye to him.

  I find my purse back in the main room of his house, a little brown spot sitting on the white carpet in front of his fireplace. It was dropped when I realized Coop was Mr. Football.

  I look up at his jersey one more time. If he was a normal guy, more in my league, I would likely stay around and see what happens. But he’s light years and a few million dollars away from unemployed me.

  Checking my phone, I scroll through the alerts on my screen and see scores of missed texts and calls from Priscilla. She’s likely phoned Joe by now. Sent out the National Guard. I text her quickly saying I’m okay which is a big, fat lie. I’m not okay; I’m a mess all around.

  I make my way outside his front door safely then sit on his entrance steps and lace back up my sandals. I start my way down his driveway and break into a slight run. Trying to remember which direction we came from in his car does me no good. Between the alcohol and being awed by his subdivision, I have no clue.

  Gambling, I turn left when I reach the street in front of his house. I start running again and glance down a side street as I approach it. The entrance gate appears down at its end. Bingo! I head straight toward it praying that someone drives up to the gate soon and it swings open. When I’m onl
y a few feet away, a car pulls up behind me and the gates move. I slip out of them and I’m free.

  However, I also have no idea where I am. An unenviable predicament to be in for sure. Who uses GPS to find their way home after a one-afternoon stand? Me, that’s who. Pathetic.

  But I need to get the hell out of here. The booze has worn off and I’m not feeling too proud of myself. Out of sight (even though he was such a pretty one) hopefully means out of mind.

  As I’m walking down the sidewalk I input Priscilla’s address and a map appears which will hopefully direct me back to her apartment building. The screen shows that I’m really not too far away. It’s an easy walk, so I hoof it to her house, the map and its little blue GPS dot leading my way.

  Once I’m back at Priscilla’s, I take a long, hot shower, almost to the point of scalding. I don’t believe I want to wash away my experience with Coop, at least not totally, but I do.

  Would I have slept with him if I were completely sober? Probably not. But I wasn’t rip-roaring, forget my morals drunk either. I think I was more intoxicated with him. He was beautiful. Found me attractive, hot even. And there was some crazy chemistry floating between us. A girl can only take so much. It’s the resisting part that I failed at and I’m likely just another woman who’s fallen under his same spell. Bewitched.

  I made it through the rest of the week and weekend thanks to Priscilla. She arrived back in Atlanta earlier than planned. I think she worried I was in a “hide the knives mood.” I wasn’t that bad, but I was definitely down.

  Likely unemployed still and trying to progress my liaison with Coop had left me in a tizzy. So Priscilla smothered me in chocolate—ice cream, brownies, and candies. You name it, we ate it. Add a lot of, “You’ll find the right guy,” and “He’s not good enough to shine your shoes,” talk and I headed back to Augusta feeling a bit better.