Watertrackedbehindevery furious step I took inside, slicking up the wood floor.
It was a wonder I didn’t slip and fall on my ass.
I was walking blind, storming through the cabin’s living room with a head full of liquor and a dick full of cravings for self-sabotage.
I said I wouldn’t touch her. Said I wouldn’t kiss her, wouldn’t fuck her.
So then I did with my words and choked her to orgasm instead.
If that wasn’t the most perverted loophole in the history of loopholes.
Fuck, I was a jackass. A horny, brainless jackass.
One who needed to do something fast about the tent pole in my briefs before Scarlett somehow convinced me to bury it between her legs.
Pouring whiskey down my throat and hoping it reached my cock before Scarlett did was the only way.
I don’t think I’d ever been harder in my life. My dick could poke a hole through glass right now thanks to her and her flagrant determination to fuck with my head.
Standing next to the outer kitchen counter, I fisted my shaft through my soaked briefs, squeezing it to punish it while drowning my liver in alcohol.
Don’t think about her. Not her lips. Not her eyes. Not the way she came undone in your arms and looked like a goddamn angel of sin.
That very wicked angel came darting from the back porch, but I refused to look at her for fear of… just everything.
“What’re you doing?” Her symphonic voice rang my way, confused and plenty pissed.
My throat closed around a fifth gulp of poison, swallowing the burn and tipping the bottle back up.
“Trying to get whiskey dick.”
Fuck. My voice was unusually ragged and rundown. It made sense since every single part of me was just so damn spent on Scarlett and trying to keep her out of my system.
And failing.
My molars crunched as the thought zinged past.
Great. Now even my own fucking brain was rooting against me. The object of my impending downfall beelined it straight to me, coming at me fast enough to topple us both right off the proverbial edge.
“You’re that scared you’re going to fuck me tonight that you’re trying to take your dick out of commission? Seriously?”
She made me sound insane, except I knew damn good and well it was the only thing I could do tonight to keep my sanity. Save for tying her up until morning.
Wait—
My cock jumped, praising the idea of Scarlett trussed up in rope and—
Zap. Fucking zap, zap, zap.
The bottle went back to my mouth, hoping to do enough damage to my insides to keep me safe for the night. That was the kind of antithetical mindfuck Scarlett forced me into. I had to chance alcohol poisoning just to escape the mortal affliction of hers.
The corrosion of my stomach lining hadn’t even started to sting yet when tiny hands and a big mouth ruined my plan.
“Okay, I know you’re a borderline alcoholic, but this is a both hands-free kind of conversation.”
I was halfway through a spicy gulp when the glass mouth was ripped away from mine. My cheeks were full of decent liquor, so there was no spitting it out to yell as Scarlett stole the whiskey away and set it on the kitchen counter with a heavy clink.
I swished the liquid through my clenched teeth and refused to look at her. Maybe it was best for us both if I never swallowed it. Then I couldn’t spin her any more filthy fantasies full of greedy truths or have whatever ‘hands-free’ conversation she was trying for.