Screwmates(9)By: Kayti McGee
Suddenly, the status of my nakedness moved from the least of my worries to the top of the list. Had we––? Had he––?
I grabbed my ladies. Seemed okay. I groped around on them for a second longer searching for anything dry or crusted.
Nothing. Thankfully they’d escaped his amorous attentions.
“Is this your normal morning routine?” came a rumbly voice next to me.
I froze, my position now a means of covering up rather than exploration. Because of course. Of course that’s where I was. In Hot Marc’s bed. Where else would I be? And I hadn’t even ascertained the extent of the humiliation before I got busted feeling myself up.
This was not how I’d imagined the morning after with him going.
If I had imagined it, that is. Okay, fine, but I hadn’t imagined it actually happening. That’s why they call them fantasies.
Careful not to let in more light than necessary, I snuck a peek over in his direction. He was sprawled out on his back, an arm tossed over his eyes. Scruff layered his jaw, and despite his skin having a slightly gray tint, he had the audacity to still be as attractive as ever.
And here I was feeling (and probably looking) like I’d been squeegee’d through a printing press, clutching my breasts like I’d thought they were going someplace.
I swallowed a groan and made something up. “Self-exams are integral to preventing breast cancer.”
“Self-exams. Right.” The sound he made was half chuckle, half sigh, and all judgment.
“So I’m not correct in assuming that self-examination is also why you keep the lotion/tissue combo over here as well?”
Dead silence from his side.
Yeah. Exactly. See if he’ll have the nerve to wake up looking that sexy again.
Especially after a night like that.
Though, I still wasn’t sure exactly what all the night had entailed. There were holes in my memory. My body didn’t feel like it had...and believe me, I’d know. I mean, I was about as immaculate as Mary. It would be pretty obvious if the eagle had landed, so to speak, and the nest was definitely empty.
I stole another glance in his direction. The sheet was wrapped around his waist revealing his bare chest. And wowzers, that chest was perfection. The lines and ridges were sketched with such detail, I wanted to draw them. Wanted to trace across them with my pen. Was it uncouth to fingerpaint on your roommate? With your tongue?
Lower, a fine trail of light brown hair dusted along his abs and disappeared underneath the sheet confirming the state of his undress.
If I’d gotten any part of that last night, it was more than a damn shame that I didn’t remember. I racked my brain for any recollection to grab onto––a kiss, a grope––but my head was having trouble putting forth any effort at all.
So I sucked up my pride––who was I kidding? Pride had long ago left the building––and started the conversation that was bound to occur sooner or later. “About last night...”
“That’s not normal,” he cut me off.
“Yeah?” I asked. My hands were still on my girls, for fuck’s sake. Who’s to say what was normal?
More importantly, this was an interesting development. Or un-development, so to say.
“Nope,” he said, moving his arm so he could look me in the eye. “That was the bourbon.”
“Fair enough.” Though, I’d had bourbon too, and even though I had no memory of it, I was certain that I’d been able to keep up my part in the game of bedroom Twister. So was he really saying it was the alcohol? Or was he suggesting it was the partner who’d brought the alcohol? I knew we hadn’t had sex. But did he know that?
I sat up, tugging the sheet with me to cover my chest with something beyond my palms. “It’s just never happened before. Not to me.”
His eyes narrowed. “You need a larger sample size before you get to make broad statements like that.”
Oh, right. I’d told him about my scanty romantic history, too. That was a blank I didn’t need to have filled in.
I twisted my lip while I tried to think with an appropriate comeback.
Marc evidently didn’t see any need to wait around while I did. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll, uh, be right back,” he mumbled before standing and showcasing the firmest ass I’d had the pleasure of seeing. Like, ever. Like, not once in my daydreams. Like, not even in my occasional slip into the Tumblr rabbit hole had I seen such deliciousness.