“Now I’m definitely in charge,” he declares with a promise. “And, babe, by morning, you’ll never be able to say that again.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHARLOTTE
I inwardly groan, rolling onto my stomach and shoving my face into my pillow. My head has a thousand mini hammers swinging at every angle of my brain.
How much did I drink?
I catapult up, rolling off the side of the bed when everything comes rushing back.
I had sex with Drew.
Really good flipping sex with Drew.
“No wonder my vagina feels like it went through a twenty-man orgy last night,” I whisper, and it really does feel like it. I don’t think there’s a position we didn’t do, but I’m willing to Google it before boasting about it. My vagina still pulses, twitching like an overused car battery.
I practically threw myself at him. I’m such a hussy.
‘My vagina feels happy.’
I slap my forehead, wondering where I come up with this stuff. Half the time I don’t even mean to say it, it just comes out. Last night was not sexy at all, not when I consider the shit I blurted out.
He slept with you.
I’m not sure what time it is, but it has to be early. I feel like I’ve only had an hour’s sleep, if that. Every time I thought we were done, he would touch me again, and I’m not sure who pounced on who first, but it always ended the same. Him coming inside of me. He was lucky the hotel catered to everything, so he could have someone purchase condoms for us.
I pull the sheet around me, struggling as I get to my feet. God, my thighs and groin are killing me. I think every muscle in my body aches.
I test that theory when I finally manage to stand without worrying I’ll topple over, and stretch my arms up. Yep, definitely all over.
My lips feel swollen, still buzzing from kissing him. And boy can he kiss. I smile to myself at the memory. I have never acted like that with anyone and I‘m not sure where it came from.
Now I don’t have alcohol boosting my confidence, it feels weird, but nonetheless meaningful. It was still the best night I could ever have wished for. Tears gather in my eyes as I think of my mum’s words that night. She was right. About it all. Scott tarnished what I felt for him. He took so much from me, and he did it without care or remorse. She was right when she told me what it should have been like.
And last night… it was all that and more.
My thighs clench together when I think about what he did with his tongue; what I begged him to do— loudly.
My gaze runs over the bed. The sheets are still rumpled from last night’s activities, and Drew is nowhere to be seen. I’m not going to lie, it hurts that he isn’t here, even if some of the night is a blur.
Maybe I did push him into it.
Tears spill down my cheeks as I reach for my dress near the end of the bed, before pulling it on and zipping it. I sniffle, searching for my knickers, looking everywhere and not spotting them until I bend down to look under the bed.
Just as the door opens.
I freeze, my fingers on the thin scrap of material.
“Fuck!” Drew growls, and I know he’s seeing everything.
And I mean everything.
I close my eyes, inwardly groaning. He’s probably scared I’m throwing myself at him again. And if he didn’t think it before, he most certainly does now.
“I can’t have any more sex,” I blurt out, getting to my feet as I dry my cheeks. I trip when trying to get my foot into the knickers and groan when I fall onto the bed. “My vagina is really sore right now. If it could speak, it would weep. With tears of joy, or tears of fear, I don’t know. But it would weep. But not like I’ve got a transmitted disease, weep.”
He rears back, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “I was going to remind you that before we left last night you accepted breakfast with my family, so I wanted to give you these,” he explains, handing me a bag. “It’s some fresh clothes and toiletries.”
My shoulders sag. I forgot about the invitation Eloise extended to Drew. When his mum overheard, she demanded his attendance and I agreed, even though it wasn’t extended to me. “I’m sorry.”
He tenses, gazing right into my soul. “Why would you be sorry?”
I drop the bag onto the bed next to me. “I threw myself at you and you were probably scared. I can be a little much when I’m drunk—” He chuckles, and I pause, butt-hurt he’d make fun of this. It’s serious. “This isn’t funny,” I whisper.
He steps forward, sliding my hair over my shoulder. “No, it’s not. What it was, was a fantastic fucking night. You didn’t force me into anything, I swear it to you,” he tells me, before pausing, his gaze running over my face. “Are you okay? I know you had a drink and I—”
My cheeks burn as I say, “It was better than I ever imagined.”
“You imagined it?”
I shove his chest lightly. “You know what I mean.”
“Seriously though, are you okay?”
I nod and busy myself looking anywhere but at him. “I really am.”
“Good,” he murmurs. “Go get showered. I said we’d be down there in twenty.”
My eyes widen. “Crap.”
I race to the bathroom but then double back, snatching the bag off the bed. “You could have said that before.”
He chuckles, and I feel him watching my arse as I run back to the bathroom. “What fun would that have been?”
I snort, closing the door behind me before taking a breather.
I had sex.
Really great sex.
A massive grin spreads across my face and a giddy feeling swirls in the pit of my stomach. Sex had been something I couldn’t wait to experience from the time I really understood what it meant. Romance books made it sound easy, pleasurable, and then Scott happened. With Drew, it was like he sparked my soul. Last night was what I had always dreamed about, what it should have always been.
Now I know what a loving touch feels like, I’ll never make the same mistake again.
I’m not even troubled over the fact it was potentially a one-night stand. If anything, it only heightens the experience, makes it more memorable for me. Without Drew, without the connection I felt with him last night, Scott might have been the only touch I knew or remembered, so I’ll always be grateful to him.
So will my vagina.
*** *** ***
To keep up pretences, Drew holds my hand as we head into the large dining room. This isn’t the same room we were in last night, but it’s just as big. And instead of purples and blues, it’s neutral, white and beige.
As we reach the table where his immediate family are, my fingers clench around his hand and I come to a stop.
Oh no.
Oh, no, no, no.
He stops when our linked hands pull taut and turns back to me, his eyebrow raised. “Everything okay?”
I shake my head. “It’s really not.”
His forehead creases with worry. “What’s wrong?”
I draw closer to him, leaning in. “We played a trick on your mum last night.”
Realisation dawns on his expression before he bursts out laughing. “I completely forgot about it.”
“Did you see her this morning?”