“What do you think?” I ask smugly. I got Millie into my bed. Except you can’t remember fucking her, you asshole.
Semantics.
“Oh god,” she flies out of bed and then starts running her hands up and down her body and then grips her head. “Why can’t I remember last night?”
“Because we got drunk.”
She frowns. “I’ve never blacked out drunk before.” She grips her body like she’s trying to hug herself.
I understand the feeling. It doesn’t feel good to not remember. Unfortunately, I’ve had too many of those days myself. It’s a scary thought, not remembering moments of your own life.
“You—did you put something in my drink?” She accuses me with a glare.
“What? You really think I put something in your drink?”
“Yes. I’ve been drunk plenty of times before, and this has never happened to me. It has to be because of you.”
I jump out of bed, ready to fight back.
Her eyes drop, and I remember I’m naked. Well, I’m not going to back down now.
“I didn’t drug you!”
“Yes, you did. You drugged me and raped me!”
I chuckle. “Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t need to drug you to have my way with you. From the way you are staring at my cock, it wouldn’t take much to convince you to ride me.”
This time her face turns bright red as she rages at me. “I would never fuck you!”
I shrug. “Too late to make that statement, sweetheart. Seems like you already did.”
She huffs, flipping her hair off her face as she does. “I don’t believe you. What happened last night?”
I sigh and cross my arms to mimic hers. “I don’t remember either.”
“What?”
“I. Don’t. Remember.”
She narrows her eyes.
“You don’t remember what happened?” she persists.
“Nope, just like you don’t.”
She grips my shirt she’s wearing tighter. “So we…?”
“Fucked? Most likely. Unless you usually allow men to sleep naked next to you who you haven’t fucked?”
She shakes her head, her big green eyes staring at me all innocent-like. Damn, I wish I remembered. I have a feeling it was a night to remember.
“And I’m guessing you are sore. Most women are after I fuck them.” I wink.
She rolls her eyes before she collects her thoughts.
“Did we use protection? Are you clean?”
“I’m clean.” And I search the floor for evidence. Our clothes are scattered haphazardly around, and then I see the glint of foil that I’m looking for. I pick up the ripped square and hold it up to her.