Breathe with Me

“I know, but I didn’t know that. Did you?”

“I guess that’s one way to put it. I hadn’t ever really thought about it.”

“Thank you!” Jax says as he and Logan join us. “These drunk as fuck women were asking me all kinds of questions about sex. Men don’t think about sex. We just have it.”

“You were very informational, Doctor Dangerous,” Meredith slurs, making us laugh.

“Were you now?” Logan asks him, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I want to hear all about this later.”

Mer’s hands roam up and down my back as she snuggles close to me, resting her head on my chest. She turns her face to rub her nose against my sternum and glides those sexy as sin hands down over my ass.

“I love your ass,” she says so only I can hear.

She’s hot as fuck tonight in another short dress, but this one is looser than the one she tortured me in last night. It’s a red V-neck, showing off her amazing cleavage and hangs loosely from below her boobs to just above her knees.

“You sent me a boob shot,” I murmur back.

“It was Brynna’s idea. We had to remind you guys what you already have so you wouldn’t fuck any of the whores that came onto you when you were away from us.”

I laugh and push a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear.

“Well, first of all, we weren’t going to forget what was waiting for us, and number two, we were too busy playing poker to fuck anyone who might have hit on us.”

“Whores,” she mutters, as if she’s picturing the imaginary women in her head.

“Whores!” Stacy agrees then turns to her husband. “Can we go fuck now?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice. Peace out, guys.” Isaac immediately takes Stacy’s hand and leads her out of the club.

“I’m going back to play poker,” Dom says and waves at us as he leaves. “I’m on a winning streak.”

“We’re leaving too,” Jax says with a smile. “Thanks for keeping the secret. It was a great one.”

“You’re welcome.”

“See you tomorrow!” Mer calls after him. Sam and Leo are deep in conversation now.

“Want another drink?” I ask my already drunk woman, with no intentions whatsoever of actually giving her any more alcohol.

“Nope.” She grins widely and bites my chin.

“What would you like to do, drunk girl?”

“Strip you naked right here and take advantage of your hot body.”

I stare down at her then bust up laughing. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“Damn. You’re no fun.” She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout, and that’s it. It’s over.

I’m done.

I nod at Sam and drag Mer behind me to the elevator and punch the button to go up.

“Are you gonna strip me down in the room?” she asks and buries her face in my neck. “God, you smell good. You’ve always smelled so good. I could just keep my face right here for, like, twenty years and be okay with that. As long as you’re naked.”

“You’re killing me,” I mutter and bite my lip against the throb in my dick and the chills that Mer is sending through me as she nibbles on my neck.

No way in fucking hell am I going to make it up to our room without making her come.

The elevator finally arrives and is blissfully empty.

“Thank Christ.” I push her up against the wall of the small car, push the button for our floor and then attack her. “You can’t know how fucking sexy you are.”

“You’re the fucking sexy one,” she replies and yanks my shirt out of the waistband of my pants then plants those hands on my abs. “Jesus, Mark, your body is incredible.”

“You make me do shit that I would never do with anyone else. You make me forget myself.” I hitch her leg up around my waist and tug her thong to the side, giving my fingers access to her wet pussy. “Your pussy makes me crazy.”

“I want your cock, Mark.”

“In a minute,” I reply. “I want to make you come before we reach our floor.”

“Oh God,” she groans as her hips circle and push against my fingers, finally crying out, biting my shoulder as she erupts on my hand. “Holy shit.”

The doors open and I scoop her up and carry her to our suite. “I’m not even close to done with you.”

“Thank God.”

Chapter Eighteen

~Meredith~

Am I going to throw up? I lie still and take stock of my stomach, head, body. All seem to be in working order. My stomach isn’t rolling, which is a good sign because with the amount of alcohol I consumed last night, I should be violently ill. I never drink like that.

My mouth is as dry as can be, I’m sure I have dragon breath, and if I don’t pee right now, I’m pretty sure my bladder is going to explode.

I roll out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom, take care of business, then splash water on my face and brush my teeth, scrubbing the foul remnants from last night out of my mouth. When I’m finished, I rub my eyes, then take a good look at myself in the mirror.

Holy. Shit.

Mascara is smeared down my cheeks¸ my blond hair is a messy tangle and I have hickeys on my breasts.

I close my eyes and feel myself go wet when I remember how Mark worshiped my breasts last night, his words of appreciation for the boob pic I sent him, how they turn him on.