On the Rocks (Mixology #2)(24)
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy

“If you say so.” I sat back and let her take charge. I was only supposed to be helping.

She took out a glass and filled it with ice. I watched as she poured triple sec, rum, vodka, tequila, sour mix, and Coke in. She didn’t pour them into a shot glass first, she just eyed it. Maybe she was a natural at it.

“There.” She pushed the glass over to me.

I took a sip of the Long Island. There was a heck of a lot more alcohol than I was used to in it, but I couldn’t bear to disappoint her.

“Do you like it?” She hopped up on the counter. “I don’t drink those, so I don’t know what they’re supposed to taste like.”

“It’s uh, great.” I took another sip and swallowed hard.

“It’s awful, huh? I suck at this.”

“You don’t suck.” I set down the glass. “You just have to make sure you’re really precise with the measurements.”

She sighed. “This is starting to feel like science class.”

“Maybe, but how many science classes have you been to where you’ve been able to get blitzed?”

She crossed her legs at the ankles. “None that involved hanging out with a guy as hot as you.” She covered her mouth and laughed. “Ok, I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

“I don’t mind. So, I’m hot, am I?” Wow, Carly was in an honest mood.

“Very.” She uncrossed her legs and sat forward. “And I can’t believe I’m telling you that.”

“If it makes you feel better I think you’re gorgeous.”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” I reached behind her and pulled out the hair tie holding up her hair. It tumbled down in waves down her back. I ran my fingers through it. “So unbelievably gorgeous.”

She shifted and intentionally or not let me slip in between her legs. I leaned toward her. “We shouldn’t be talking like this.”

“Why not? Are you afraid of dirty talk, Macon?” She bit her lip and smiled. She was playing with me.

“Dirty talk? This isn’t dirty yet.”

“Then show me dirty.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against mine.

“I don’t want to show you dirty.”

“Why not?” She said in a breathy tone.

“Because I’d rather show you other things.”

“What other things?”

“The kind of things I’d have to show you.”

“Show me.” She ran her teeth over her lip.

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“Completely. I’ll go first.” She used both hands to pull her black t-shirt up and over her head. She tossed the shirt.

I stared at her sitting there in a black bra and pajama shorts. There was something so incredibly sexy about the combination—at least on her. My resistance broke. I needed her, and she was offering herself to me.

“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?” She smiled.

“You’ve seen me without a shirt on.”

“Yes, but not while I wasn’t wearing my own.”

I pulled off my t-shirt and tossed it on the ground next to hers.

“Thank you.”

“Did you just thank me for taking my shirt off?”

“Yeah, I think I did.” She blushed slightly.

“I guess that means I should be thanking you for taking yours off—but then again you aren’t exactly shirtless yet.”

“Technically I am.”

“Yeah, but you have on a bra. I don’t.”

“I wasn’t aware you usually wore bras, Macon.”

I chuckled. “You’re something else, Carly.”

“I already know that.” She grinned. “But back to what you were saying. Although I am technically shirtless, you may have a point that for a girl to be shirtless usually means she’s not wearing a bra.”

“So I don’t need to thank you.” I gave up forcing my eyes to stay on her face. They were much happier studying the pale skin exposed by her bra. This one must have cut lower than her usual bikini tops, because there was a definite tan line. I was ready to see the rest of that tan line.

She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She dropped it on the floor.

“Thank you.” I barely got the words out. I forced my eyes away from the absolutely perfect set of breasts in front of me. I knew we were treading into no turning back territory, and I needed to make sure she knew that. “I’m guessing you realize that I really want to touch you right now.”

“Macon. Hun. Generally when a girl starts stripping down in front of you and asking you to take your clothes off, it means she wants you to touch her.”

I laughed. “Is that so? I’m so glad you clarified that.” I couldn’t wait any longer. I lowered my mouth to one breast while my hand fondled the other. I ran my tongue over her nipple. She moaned, and I took it as an invitation to continue.

“Macon,” she moaned as she fumbled with my belt. While she worked on it I slid my free hand up her leg and into the opening of her shorts. I brushed my hand over her silky underwear. I wondered what color they were and decided I was going to find out. I momentarily released her breasts as I boosted her up slightly so I could slide her shorts down her legs. The blue material fell to the floor, and I took in the sight of the purple silk.

“Purple, nice.”

She’d finished with my belt and moved on to my button and zipper. I stepped out of my shorts, ready to have less between us.

“Red plaid, nice.” She giggled and nearly lost her balance on the counter. I steadied her.

That’s when reality set in. We’d both had a lot to drink. I wasn’t about to take advantage of her. I stepped back.

She gaped at me. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” She covered her chest with her arms.

I swallowed hard. Every part of me wanted her, but not like this. Not when I had any question of whether she’d regret it in the morning. “Because we’ve both had too much to drink.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Carly…”

“I get it. Enough said.” Tears welled in her eyes,

“Carly, come on. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“Gotcha.” She slipped off the counter, picked up her skirt and bra and practically ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.

I bent down and picked up the t-shirt she’d forgotten. For a brief second I considered running after her, but I knew that would be a mistake.