F*CKING AWKWARD HOLIDAYS: 25 Short Stories of Awkward Holiday Encounters Read online

She laughs and throws another shot back. Not willing to be outdone, I do the same, and we slam the empty glasses on the table simultaneously. She jumps up and pulls me onto the floor to dance with her. The truth is, this is exactly what I need. To shake off the blues and enjoy some fun with my girlfriend.

  So I cave and dance with her.

  Guys on the prowl watch us, and a couple try to cut in, but we ignore them and keep up our groove. The longer I'm on the dance floor, the more the effects of the alcohol hit me, and the drunker I become. I lose track of how many songs have played by the time we stumble back to the table, and Alec delivers another tray to us. Through my blurry vision, I still notice when he winks at her, and I turn to ask her why when she hands me another glass and downs hers with an unspoken dare in her gaze.

  "You ladies look like you're taking your drinking seriously tonight." The smooth, masculine voice comes from beside me, tempting me with its sultry timbre. I look up into the most beautiful green eyes God ever created. I'm surprised I can still see them after the copious amount of alcohol I consumed.

  "We're celebrating," Mia replies and cuts her eyes to the second man who has joined us. "Baylee got rid of a lot of excess baggage, and she's back on the market again."

  "Congratulations, Baylee. I'm Hunter Randle, by the way. This is Hayden Tyner. Mind if we sit with you?" Hunter directs the question to me, but Mia answers.

  "Of course you can. You're both so handsome, I'm surprised you're not with dates tonight."

  "I'm glad we're not," Hayden replies. "We'd dump them and join you two beauties."

  "What's your poison?" Hunter gestures to the empty shot glass.

  "Liquid Crack." I toss my last shot back and force the harsh alcohol down my throat. "I'm Baylee Dawson. This is my BFF, Mia Beam."

  "Chaser?" Hunter offers his beer bottle, and I eagerly take it. The sweeter flavor washes away the intense burning in my chest.

  "Thanks, Hunter. That helped a lot."

  "Just a word of advice. Never accept a drink from a stranger, especially in here. The wrong kind of person will drug you."

  "Did you?"

  He takes a long pull from his beer and wipes the remnants from his lips with his tongue. "Absolutely not." His smile crawls across his handsome face. The alcohol slams into me suddenly, and I want to laugh nonstop, stare at his gorgeous face and mesmerizing eyes, and perhaps throw up. Maybe not in that order.

  "Your smile is so sexy. What do you do? Are you a model?" I'm babbling and can't stop my stupid, drunk self. But I also don't care.

  His smile will be my undoing tonight. It does unexpected things to me. "No. Nothing like that. I develop mobile apps for a software company. In fact, I just moved back here and start a new job next week."

  "Congratulations! You definitely should celebrate tonight."

  "I couldn't agree more. Dance with me?" He stands and extends his hand, confident of my answer.

  "Yes, I'd love to." His big hand wraps around mine. He helps me to stand, and he leads me to the dance floor.

  The song is perfect for the dirty, drunk dancing surrounding us, so Hunter and I join in without hesitation. The blood flowing through my veins is now comprised of the Jäger and Goldschlager mixture, removing all inhibitions and cares. The heartache that's plagued me the last few weeks is still there when I think about it, but the abundance of alcohol numbs my brain. Not thinking about Derek makes it easier to focus on Hunter. And my eyes do enjoy focusing on him.

  The DJ changes the song to a slow, melodic one, and I expect Hunter to make his exit now. Instead, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into him. Chest-to-chest, the height given to me by my heels makes our bodies align perfectly, and we sway as one. The masculine scent of his cologne is heady, and I inhale deeply, drawing it in along with his male scent. He smells good enough to eat, and before I realize what I'm doing, my nose smashes against his neck.

  His movements falter for a second, and his whole body tenses. He clears his throat, and I casually slide my cheek along his shoulder, away from his neck. I play it off like that was an entirely intentional move, and I'm not embarrassed in the least. When I refuse to look up at him for a few seconds, we silently agree it never happened. Hunter takes the hint, and his muscles relax again as his body molds against mine.

  "All the couples on the dance floor look too hot to break up," the DJ announces. "Here's one more slow song to help you close the deal. After this one, you're on your own, so make it count."

  The hypnotic lyrics of George Michael's "One More Try" stream through the speakers and into my body. The haunting need in his voice, the sensual tones of the music, and the incredible way Hunter's hands hold me are all so seductive. Without a second thought, I raise my cheek from his shoulder, and his lips find mine. An immediate and distinct current tears through me, running the length of my core—from where our lips touch, straight to my hoo-ha.

  The sudden burst of desire nearly brings me to my knees. His tongue slides across mine, and the resulting groan rumbles through his chest just before the kiss turns urgent. In this kiss, I feel more desirable—and desired—by this slightly drunk stranger than Derek made me feel in what seems like forever.

  And that is intoxicating—every bit as much as Liquid Crack shots are.

  A forceful tap on my shoulder brings me back to reality. I reluctantly withdraw from Hunter's perfect kiss and try to focus on Mia's face. "Hey, slut. Hayden and I are cutting out now. You two don't do anything I wouldn't do."

  "That's not much of a parental warning," I retort with a smile.

  "It wasn't meant to be. I hope Hunter takes you home and fucks your brains out. You need it after Derek withheld from you for the last six months, while giving it to everyone else."

  "Nine months."

  "What?"

  "I haven't had sex in nine months. I thought Derek was busy and stressed—and had man problems." I point exaggeratedly at my crotch as if that explains everything I can't verbalize.

  "Fucking hell. You are too trusting and naïve," Mia scoffs at me. She turns her attention to Hunter. "Can you make sure she gets home safely tonight? I don't trust her to get in a cab alone."

  "My pleasure. I'll take care of her." Hunter flashes that sexy-as-sin smile, and Mia smiles in return, which is odd since she doesn't smile like that unless she's up to no good. Even in my inebriated state, I'm lucid enough to know that.

  Before I can push for her real agenda, she's out the door with Hayden in tow, leaving me alone with Hunter. When I turn to face him again, the desire burning in his eyes steals my breath. His mouth is on mine in the blink of an eye, and his hands bury in my hair. He holds me like he'll never let me go. Like he's fused to me voluntarily—consuming me like he's starving.

  "Come home with me," he murmurs against my lips. Even with the thump of the bass and the kick of the drums from the dance song blaring through the speakers, I know without a doubt what he said. It swirls deep inside my belly, the stirring that overrules my usually rational mind. I know what I'll say before the words escape my mouth. Hunter and his magnetism keep a firm hold on me, and I have no desire to escape. For tonight, I want to blame it on the excess alcohol and make bad decisions. I want this—the need, the desire, the thrill of it all.

  I want an orgasm that isn't by my hand.

  "Take me home, Hunter."

  "Fuck, I thought you'd never ask."

  As if he's afraid I'll suddenly change my mind, he grabs my hand and hurriedly leads me through the club and out the front door. A line of taxis waits as the designated drivers of the night, and Hunter takes us to the first one. He gives the driver his address and offers him a big tip to hurry. Then he turns to me and draws me into his arms.

  "Can I tell you a secret?" he whispers in my ear, and it sends chills down my arm.

  "As long as it doesn't involve dead bodies in your basement or refrigerator," I joke. Partially.

  He laughs and shakes his head. "No dead bodies. I got rid of all those." He winks playfully and
leans in to kiss me again. He works his way along my jaw, then resumes his whispers when he reaches my ear. "When your face was against my neck earlier, it was all I could do not to take you right there on the dance floor in front of everyone. That was so damn sexy."

  Tingles. The tingles are everywhere.

  "Tingles? I gave you tingles?"

  That smile. Dear God.

  "Wait. Did I say that out loud?"

  "You did."

  I don't know how long we've been driving when the cab comes to a stop. Hunter quickly pays the driver as we slide across the back seat. We spent the entire ride making out, so I also have no clue where we are or how we got here. He doesn't give me a chance to look around before his arms are around me again and his mouth crushes against mine. Not that I'm complaining. The man's kisses are amazing. His hands are skilled. And I'm ready for him to do all manner of naughty things with them.

  Hunter lifts me, and my legs wrap around his waist. Somehow, he unlocks the door and carries me inside without breaking our kiss. When I pull back and open my eyes, I'm a little concerned that we appear to be in a basement.

  "Don't worry," he chuckles. "I'm staying at my aunt's until I find a place of my own. With the move and changing jobs, I haven't had time to look. The entire lower floor is an apartment. No dead bodies anywhere in sight."

  "As long as I can't see them," I concede with a giggle.

  "Do you want to change your mind?" His tone is understanding, but his eyes beg me to say no. How can I refuse that?"

  "No. Not at all. You have a valid excuse to live here."

  "Good. She's out of town this weekend, so the house is all ours."

  He carries me to his bedroom, which is surprisingly large for a ground-floor apartment. The king-size bed calls my name. The man who'll join me in that bed also calls my name. I bet the bed smells like him.

  "Does that mean we can make all the noise we want?" I ask coyly.

  "Hell yeah, it does." He sets me down and reaches for the hem of my dress, never taking his eyes off mine. He watches my reaction, gauges my comfort level, ready to stop if I change my mind.

  But I'm set in my decision. I need this. I need him. I need to get lost in him and forget the nine-month-long death of my last relationship. Forget how I turned a blind eye and a deaf ear when I knew there was no logical explanation for Derek's sudden disinterest in me. Block out the ways I felt used and useless. Pathetic and clingy. Unworthy and undesirable. In the span of one drunken encounter, Hunter has made me believe the exact opposite of everything Derek inflicted upon me. Because of Hunter, I want to spend the rest of the night experiencing what else I've missed out on because I didn't let Derek go sooner.

  What other tricks are up Hunter's sleeves?

  He drops my dress on the bed and runs his fingers across my bare skin, leaving a path of goose bumps in his wake. "You're so fucking perfect," he murmurs. "I have to taste you. Everywhere."

  Oh, my God. Please do.

  The warmth of his mouth and the velvety smoothness of his tongue sliding against my sensitive nipple elicit a moan from deep inside me. My fingers thread through his thick brown hair, and I hold him tightly. He gently pushes me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed.

  "Lie back," he commands. I comply instantly. If he's this good with his mouth on my breasts, I can't wait to experience it in other places. He slides my panties off as he works his way down my body. I'm on fire, and I've never wanted to fuck someone as badly as I do Hunter.

  "Nine months, huh?" he asks out of the blue.

  "Yeah. Why?"

  "Because I'm about to erase every other man from your memory." His confidence is sexy and contagious.

  "I'm so ready for you to give it your best shot."

  "A challenge? I love it." His sexy smirk disappears between my legs, then his mouth is on me. He softly licks my clit, teasing and tempting, showing no mercy in his quest to replace my old memories with new ones of only him. When he sucks my clit into his mouth and scrapes his teeth against it, I see multicolored stars behind my eyelids. My fingers curl into the duvet below me, and a satisfied mewl streams from my lips. Then his tongue dives straight inside me. He rolls it around, moves it side to side, and completely unhinges me.

  "What was his name?"

  "Whose name?" I reply breathily.

  "That's what I want to hear." He stands and sheds his shirt. His body is sheer perfection. Muscled arms. Ripped abs. Colorful tattoos adorning his skin. Then he drops his pants to the floor. Muscled legs—thick, strong, and sturdy. More tattoos. Drool worthy. Model worthy.

  "Are you sure you're not a model? You're gorgeous and sexy and muscley."

  "Muscley?" He shakes his head at me with a light chuckle. "I'm sure. No modeling." He climbs on the bed and covers my body with his. His cock, hard and ready, is against my leg. I can barely contain my impulses to keep myself from humping him like a dog in heat. "You taste divine. Are you sure you're not made of sugar?"

  "I'm sure," I mimic his reply.

  He leans over to the nightstand and grabs a condom. "Put this on me."

  I tear the packet open and roll the condom over his length, taking a few extra seconds to enjoy how he feels in my hands. For a second, I regret rushing to sex instead of taking the time to explore his body. But the condom is already in place, and he's waiting at my entrance. My needy entrance that's screaming for oh-so-much more.

  His hand slides behind my knee and draws my leg up before he thrusts inside me. His length and girth are more than impressive, and the last nine months of my abstinence are obvious. My body takes time to adjust to his size, but the sudden burning and stretching are gloriously delicious. His muscles expand and contract with his every movement. He pounds into me, hitting the hilt and drawing moans and screams from me with every plunge. His other hand wraps around my leg and brings it up. Then his fingers dig into my skin, and he holds on, assaulting my body with the most intense orgasm of my life.

  I could get used to having this at least once a day. Forever.

  Our bodies are so slick with sweat from exertion, there can't be any alcohol left in me. On his final drive, he changes positions, altering the angle and deepening his plunges into me. An earsplitting scream erupts from the depths of my soul and flows out of me like a river. He doesn't stop until he draws every last whimper from me. His arms fold, and the weight of his body rests on me. He turns his face toward mine and kisses me sweetly.

  * * *

  "We're back, and we have a surprise for you!"

  The woman next door is up way too early, and she is making way too much noise. Now that she woke me up, I have to pee. But no matter how hard I try, I can't open my eyes. My eyelids are so heavy they feel like they're cemented shut. Mia must have covered me with every blanket she could find last night and turned the electric blanket on the highest setting because I'm burning up and can barely move under the weight. My head is pounding from all the alcohol, and all I want to do is sleep off this hangover, but snoozing is impossible with how loud the neighbor is yelling.

  "Look who's here!" some man says. Loudly.

  Bright light floods my room and burns straight through my closed eyelids. I scrunch my eyes shut tight to block part of the light and try to throw my arm across my face, but it won't move.

  "Oh, shit! Man, my bad. Sorry about that." As he walks away, I hear his laughter and him mumbling something that sounds a lot like, "He's not alone, Mel."

  Through the red-hot needles poking my eyes, I force them open to figure out what the hell Mia is up to now.

  Cue my panic attack.

  A naked man is lying on top of me. I'm naked. In a strange bed. In a strange room. And someone walked in on us.

  Not. Awkward. At. All.

  Wait, let me take that back. His morning wood is growing against my leg. That's not awkward. The human furnace with a third leg begins to stir, and all I can do is wait for him to realize our predicament. His hand freezes in midair on its way to his face as the other one
pokes and pats my body. One squinty eye opens, and I instantly remember those green eyes.

  Hunter something-or-other.

  "Good morning, Baylee." His voice is groggy, and he relaxes again, clearly remembering me. He also has no idea someone just saw his bare ass and my legs sticking out from underneath him. "What time is it? Did I sleep on you all night?"

  His dick continues to harden against my leg. The man has no shame.

  "Umm, I have no idea what time it is, but apparently we both passed out and never moved. By the way, when is your aunt due home?"

  "She didn't say," he mumbles against my neck. His hips slide upward with measured movements, sliding his cock against my clit. The only feasible explanation is he spiked my drink and I'm still experiencing the aftereffects because he just owned me with that single sensation. "Last night was incredible. How about a morning repeat?"

  The thrust is a little harder this time.

  Oh, God.

  My legs automatically slide apart, giving him more room to move. He shifts his weight to one side and slides his hand down my chest, across my stomach, and covers my mound. His fingers caress my pussy while he feasts on my neck with his tongue and lips. Then his fingers dip inside me.

  "What the hell is that?"

  Well, if he doesn't know by now…

  He raises his hand up where I can see, and I want to fucking die.

  "Uh…" He stalls, looking for the right words. But there are none. "Wow. I'm sorry for that. Guess I did pass out, huh?"

  "Ya think?"

  "I'll just go flush this."

  Great. It was the used condom from last night. He never took care of it. The lightbulb over my head just went off, and I'm about to hyperventilate. When Hunter comes back into the bedroom, he approaches me slowly, as if I'm a wild animal and he's afraid of me.

  "What's wrong?"

  "That was still inside me? What good could it have possibly done if it was still inside me?"

  "Calm down, babe."

  "Don't tell me to calm down," I reply through clenched teeth.

  With a quick burst, he jumps on the bed, covers me with his body, and speaks evenly. "It wasn't inside you. I managed to take it off before I fell asleep on you. You were already passed out. It was on the bed."