Or more accurately, it didn’t blank out at all. It merely lost all reasonable thought as images of every way she could clutch my biceps as I pushed inside her crammed every available space in my synapses. Hell, in some of the images, she didn’t even have to touch my arms. She just had to scream as I made her come.
After mentally screwing her every which way known to mankind, I shook my head and cleared my throat. I had to glance away before I tried to act on my impulses. Not that it helped much. I still knew she was there. I still knew she wanted to clutch my arms while I—damn, I probably shouldn’t go there. But I went there again and again.
So looking away didn’t help my dick relax, but it did help me realize…I spun back to her. “Shit. You’re completely wasted, aren’t you?”
I knew she’d been downing bottle after bottle, but she hadn’t been acting all giggly drunk like most of the co-eds I was used to. What she’d said, however, was like nothing I could ever picture Dr. Kavanagh saying to me…ever. Not even drunk. Since she had said it, though, she had to be totally out of her mind.
And now that I was looking for the signs, her eyes were bright and glassy And her posture was a little too loose for her.
“I’ve never been wasted before in my life.” She tried to straighten her spine in her prissy, professor way, but she only ended up tipping to the side. Realizing what she was doing, she let go of my arm to brace her hand on the top of the bar, catching herself. As her eyebrows puckered with irritation, I reached out and helped her straighten up. I already missed the loss of her hands on me. The phantom warmth of them still heated my flesh.
“Did you put something stronger in my drink?” she accused, scowling at me. “Because I suddenly feel a little…tipsy.”
I snorted. “Tipsy? Honey, you passed tipsy and headed straight to plowed the moment you asked me details about my sex life.”
Her back tried to stiffen all self-righteously again. “I beg your pardon? I most certainly did not—oh shit.” Her face flooded with color as her mouth dropped open. “I just asked you about your sex life.”
Watching her lips form the word shit was my downfall.
I scuttled backward away from her, aching for her so hard my muscles vibrated from the tension they were using to restrain me.
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand to excuse her behavior, to make it not as hot and sexy as it really was. “I know all about alcohol-induced slipups. Remember?” I flashed her my forearm and then immediately swung away, in petrified retreat.
I didn’t want to leave, but I needed space before I did something unforgiveable.
I shoved Pick in her direction, grabbing a strawberry daiquiri out of his hand. “You gotta keep me away from her,” I gasped, tempted to down the drink instead of deliver it to its owner. “If she goes into the back for any reason, do not let me follow her. Do you understand? If she tries to give me her number, do not let me keep it. And if she...Jesus!” I glanced at her just in time to see some guy tap on her shoulder, gaining her attention. “And keep that little asswipe sniffing around her away too. Got it?”
Pick blinked. “Uh…”
“Thanks.” I turned away, leaving him to his new duties.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.” - Mark Twain
NOEL
Pick did his job for the most part. With me constantly talking to her all night, I must’ve been keeping away the prowlers. Because as soon as I immersed myself in work, serving drinks, the men flooded in, trying to hit on her. Pick didn’t exactly field the losers away, but he didn’t really have to either since she brushed them off all on her own. God bless her.
I told myself that didn’t mean anything. So what, she had welcomed my attention and practically asked me how I liked to take my women, but she’d turned others away. That didn’t mean…except maybe it did. Even drunk, she preferred me over everyone else.
When she asked Pick where the restroom was and disappeared into the back, every fiber of my being wanted to follow her. But my damn, annoying coworker grabbed my arm.
“You told me not to let you go, man.”
I jerked my arm out of his grip and sent him a dirty look but stayed behind the bar like a good boy. But when she didn’t return within five minutes, I was ready to chew my own arm off.
“What if someone caught her back there and is harassing her?” I growled to Pick, needing to check on her safety, which surprised the shit out of me. Outside of my brothers and sister, and okay, maybe my teammates on the field, oh, and possibly my coworkers, I’d never felt protective of anyone before. Not over a girl I wanted, anyway.
“I’ll check on her,” Pick said, lifting his eyebrows in that fatherly way, telling me to back off.
I glowered at him even as I practically shoved him toward the hallway. “Well, get to it, then.”
He left and returned almost immediately. “She’s fine,” was his only answer.