Crazy, Sexy, Love
Copyright © 2018 Alison G. Bailey
All rights reserved.
Interior book design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
Edited by Christine Estevez
Cover design by Murphy Rae Hopkins, Indie Solutions
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
LITERARY AND FILM RIGHTS MANAGMENT
Alison G. Bailey is represented by Bookcase Literary Agency
Film and Foreign Rights
Flavia Viotti
[email protected]
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO BY ALISON G. BAILEY
TO MY AMAZING team of women who give of their time and talent to help create the best possible reading experience. Painstakingly, they go through my manuscript, sometimes a lot, giving me the perfect mix of constructive criticism and pats on the back. They make me a better writer. They encourage me. They show me love and support when I need it the most. I would not, could not publish a book without them. I’m also proud to call them my friends.
Concepcion Copon, Kim Bias, Beth Hyams, Jennifer Mirabelli, Jennifer Van Wyck, Tabitha Willbanks, and Tammy Zautner, I dedicate my first rom com to all of you. My wish is that this book brightens the reader’s life like all of you have brightened mine.
~Love, Alison
EITHER MY KILLER black heels or the overabundance of tequila swishing through my system was to blame for my wobbly walking. As Doug pulled me further away from the ballroom and down the dimly lit hallway “Crazy in Love” by Beyoncé drifted into the ether. This impromptu rendezvous was nothing more than a drunken disaster about to take place during our friend’s wedding reception.
Three years ago, my best friend, Bryson, reunited with her soul mate, Hart Mitchell. Theirs was the type of love that inspired epic romance novels. Hart was perfect except for one thing—a six foot two inch, dark sandy-blond-haired, golden hazel eyed pain in the ass named Doug Truman. Because of Hart’s lapse in judgment in the bud/dude/bro department, I was forced to allow Doug into my hemisphere.
We met right before one of Hart’s basketball tournaments. I wasn’t thrilled with Bryson dragging me to the game. For one, I didn’t like sports and for another, I was pissed that she’d kept her feelings for Hart a secret from me. As I stood pouting, a tall, lean and cut body with flailing arms headed toward Bryson and me. With each step, it became very apparent that he was a little crazy and could pose a real threat. So a split second before he lunged toward Bryson, I grabbed him by the wrist, twisted his arm behind his back, and demanded he drop to his knees. Two seconds later Bryson explained that Doug was one of Hart’s best friends. And that he wasn’t lunging but coming in for a hug.
Once I helped Doug up and he came into focus, tingles spread throughout my body. His entire being exuded a relaxed sexiness with his messy hair and five o’clock shadow. And his bright green eyes and crooked grin screamed mischievous devil. Even though he was so not my type, I had a sense of relief realizing that maybe the day wouldn’t be a complete loss. A little flirting with Doug would occupy my time while Bryson stared at every move Hart made. But suddenly something happened that doused the tingles and skyrocketed my annoyance level into the stratosphere… Doug spoke and… Never. Shut. Up.
Doug was that guy who had convinced himself that he had game, when in reality, the game had been rained out, indefinitely. So the past three years has consisted of one feeble attempt after another to sleep with me. Even though he was constantly testing the boundaries of acceptable social behavior, I found it freakishly flattering. Doug was nothing if not tenacious in his pursuit. There was no question he was aesthetically pleasing to the eye. But each time Doug opened his mouth, he turned into an emotionally stunted, maturity lacking, uber-horny Neanderthal.
I’d been successful at resisting his lame attempts at wooing me up until tonight. I was in a weird mood. Maybe it was seeing how in love Bryson and Hart were that caused my chest to ache with a yearning desire, that someday, I too, would find the one person I connected with—body, mind, and soul. I’d heard opposites attract, people say once you stop looking love finds you, and sometimes what you want is right in front of you. After four shots of tequila and an appletini, I began to wonder… Could Doug be my person?
Contemplate.
Contemplate
Contemplate.
My body shuddered at the thought. I was simply a bundle of pent-up sexual need that had to be released. Doug was hot and as long as he kept his mouth shut, the green light for a quickie was shining bright.
I hadn’t been to the aquarium since senior prom but if memory served there was a maintenance closet right around the corner. I yanked my hand from his.
Doug’s head whipped around in my direction, his expression heated. “What the fu…”
“I can’t run in these shoes. Besides you have no idea where the hell you’re going,” I said, slipping out of my heels.
He stepped in front of me, wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me to his chest. “Oh, I know exactly where I’m headed. I’ve got VIP access.”
“VIP access?”
“Very Impressive Penis.” His voice was low as he leaned in for a kiss.
I stabbed my finger into his chest. “Not so fast, jackass. Let’s get one thing straight. Presently, you’re sitting in the nose bleed section. I haven’t decided if you’re worthy of a backstage pass.”
Doug’s hand slid down and cupped my ass. “Holy shit! I didn’t know that was even an option.”
“You have no idea how many items are on my a la carte menu. But, before we go any further… this thing between us… nothing more than a simple uncomplicated, one-time hook-up. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m drunk.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Actually not so much,” he admitted.
“No matter. I think you’re hot. You think I’m hot. Period.”
“Exactly. Just two flamers getting it on.”
My nose crinkled. “What?”
“I don’t know what I’m saying. I can’t believe we’re finally going to do this.”
I stepped back, grabbed his hand, and took the lead, guiding us around the corner.
“Where are you going? The bathroom is in the other directio
n,” he said.
“Ew, I’m not hooking up in a public bathroom.”
“Why not? It’s hot.”
“You realize what else people do in there, right?”
A tiny spark of recognition glimmered in his eyes. “Why’d you have to go ruin hot bathroom sex for me?”
The closet was exactly where I remembered. I pushed open the door and pulled Doug inside. The dim fluorescent light bounced off the metal shelves as the scent of cleaning supplies filled the air. Slamming him against the door, I shoved the black tuxedo jacket off his broad shoulders. His hands ran up the sides of both my thighs, pushing my dress up along the way. When he reached my pink lace panties, his eyes closed and an expression of pure bliss crossed his face. It was as if he’d found the land of milk and honey. His reaction caused a shiver to swirl all over my body.
The fingers of his right hand slipped between my legs, moving my panties to the side. “God, I can’t wait to get some part of me into some part of you.”
“Me first.” I shoved his hand out from under my dress before stepping back into my shoes.
“I’m trying to do you first,” he said.
Placing my palms flat against his chest, I moved in close, barely touching his lips with mine. “I mean, I want to taste you first.”
A sexy smirk took over his face. “Gee, you’re swell.”
Holding Doug’s gaze, I made my way down his body. The art of squatting in heels was a talent I’d perfected back in my college days. It had been my experience that no guy could resist the sight of a girl maintaining a steady balance on a pair of five-inch stilettos as she prepared to blow him.
IT TOOK EVERY ounce of strength I had to keep my shit together as Sophie’s body pushed against mine. I’d been hot for other women before but nothing like this. We hadn’t kissed and we weren’t naked, but I felt as if I was going to explode in a matter of seconds. My dick was pressed so hard against my pants, I was afraid it might break free and poke one of her gorgeous violet eyes out.
Gripping the doorknob, I braced myself as she unbuckled my pants and slowly slid the zipper down. She hooked her fingers around my waistband and began inching my pants and boxers toward the floor. I knew the sight of her kneeling in front of me would be too much to handle, so at first, I willed myself not to look down. But the feel of her fingernails scraping over my skin caused the last ounce of strength to drain from my body. I sucked in a sharp breath as my gaze dropped. Sophie’s attention was zeroed in on me. The corners of her plum colored lips twitched into a smirk just before the tip of her tongue skimmed over her bottom one. I felt completely helpless against her womanly wiles.
A deep growl rumbled from my chest. “Soph, if you don’t speed this up my head and dick are going to explode in less than ten seconds.”
With one quick tug, my dick sprang free followed by what sounded like a giggle.
“Are you laughing at my dick?”
“I’m laughing at this ridiculous tattoo on your hip,” she said.
Not one of my better moves, trying to pick up the girlfriend of the tattoo shop owner. Dude sought revenge by inking fucking Hello Kitty onto my hip. When I went back demanding he fix it, he gave me a fire-breathing dragon body but left the kitty head. The grudge holding motherfucker. The entire tattooing experience was so painful, I decided to live with the damn thing.
“Give me a second, I haven’t eyed your dick yet,” she joked.
Tilting my head back against the door, I waited for that first bolt of electricity to shoot through my body as she took me into her mouth. Out of nowhere, something shot through my body, but it wasn’t electricity. It was a sharp pain as her nails sunk into both of my thighs. I looked down to find Sophie swaying from side to side. Her cheeks puffed out right before a deep guttural burp pushed its way past her lips.
I cringed. “What the fuck was that?”
Unclenching one of my thighs, she slapped her hand over her mouth as another burp reared its ugly head.
“I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled into her palm, dropping to her knees.
“The sight of my dick makes you want to puke? Goddam, Sophie, I know you always act like I gross you out but…”
With her hand still plastered to her mouth, she shook her head, and said, “Too many shots. I need a bucket.”
“Where the fuck am I going to find a bucket?” Panic was evident in my tone.
I was kind of a reactive puker. If she spewed, chances were, I’d follow close behind. Not to mention my dick was still hanging out and the idea of her… I couldn’t even finish the thought. My throat closed and my stomach gurgled.
Her body lurched forward. “We’re in a fucking maintenance closet! Look around or there’s going to be mini chicken and waffles all over the walls in three seconds!”
I stuffed myself back into my pants and zipped up. “Hold on!”
Scanning the small space, I spotted a bucket, and shoved it in front of her as quickly as possible. In a matter of seconds what appeared to be every morsel of food she’d consumed over the past month came gushing forth.
I took a step back, making sure I was out of the line of fire. “Ugh! For the love of God! I’ve never seen that much stuff come out of a human before. It’s like a volcano of puke.”
“A fucking play by play is not required,” she groaned.
Needing a distraction, I mindlessly slipped my iPhone from my pocket and focused on the screen. The closet was silent for only a few seconds before Sophie’s body trembled and another eruption of epic proportion took place.
Ding.
“What was that?” she whimpered.
I cleared my throat. “What was what?”
“That noise. It sounded like a ding.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“I swear to God, if you took a picture of me getting sick…”
“Soph, I promise I did not take a picture of you in this compromising position.”
She shifted her gaze up to me, checking to see if I was telling the truth.
“However, I am taking a video. A picture wouldn’t do it justice.”
Flames flickered in her eyes as she balled her hand into a fist. She aimed for my crotch. I jumped back, causing her to fall to the side.
Pushing herself back to a kneeling position, she said, “If you show that video to anyone, I will come to your home in the middle of the night while you’re dead asleep and run your dick and balls through a meat grinder.”
“Once you get a little distance from the situation I think you’ll see the humor.”
She opened her mouth to speak when her body convulsed. Gripping the bucket, she tossed her cookies once again. After slipping my phone into my pocket, I gathered Sophie’s soft dark hair into my hands and lifted it up. Heat radiated off her body, so I blew on the back of her neck in hopes of cooling her down.
Sitting back on her heels, she pushed the bucket away and moaned. “Oh God, I hate throwing up.”
“Yeah, I hate it for you,” I said, joining her on the floor.
“I wish I had something to wipe my mouth with.”
I undid my tie and handed it to her.
“I can’t use your tie.”
“It’s Colin’s.” I smiled.
She snatched the tie from my hand. “Thanks.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a pack of gum. “Take this.”
Sophie unwrapped two pieces of the peppermint sticks and quickly shoved them in her mouth.
We remained quiet while I rubbed her back and she chewed every ounce of juice from the wad of gum. I felt bad for her but kind of liked taking care of her.
“Here,” I said, handing her my phone. “Go ahead and delete the video.”
Sophie took the phone and tapped the screen.
Cringing, she quickly tossed the phone back to me as if it were on fire. “I can’t believe you have a dick pic. The audacity you have sending a woman something like that… it’s unfathomable.”
“You were supposed
to click on videos, not photos. And give me an ounce of credit. I don’t send out crap like that. It’s not even my dick.”
She stared at me blankly. “I don’t want to know.”
Holding the phone up so she could see, I deleted the incriminating video. “All good?”
She nodded.
“How ya feeling?” I said.
“A little better.” The closet fell silent for a few seconds. “Thanks for helping me out.”
“No problem. Just let me know when you’re ready to give it another go.”
A look of confusion washed over her pale face. “Excuse me?”
“I figured since you’re feeling better…”
“You’re a top-notch asshole, you know that?”
“Well excuse the fuck out of me for trying to salvage this night.”
“We’re going back to the reception to tell our friends goodbye. Then you’re going to take me home because I’m in no condition to drive or… suck your dick!”
“Can I at least see your tits?”
Slowly turning her head in my direction, Sophie’s gorgeous eyes shot daggers through me.
“What?! You can’t blame a guy for trying,” I snapped.
Coming to grips that the night was over and done with, I stood, extended my hand, and helped Sophie stand on shaky legs. Once I was sure she wouldn’t topple over, I snatched my jacket from off the floor. I watched as she adjusted her dress, running her hands down her body to smooth out the wrinkles. Next, she combed her figures through her long black hair a few times to fluff it out. Even after getting sick she was still the hottest woman I’d ever seen. Her head shifted slightly, catching me in the act.
She took a step toward me with what looked like regret in her eyes. “Listen, I’m really sorry…”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t help it.”
“I appreciate you being so understanding. I owe you.”
Taking one last shot, I asked, “Can I finger you on the drive home?”
Sophie’s face contorted as if I’d grown another head and I’m not talking about the one in my pants.
“Only you would still hit on me knowing the condition I’m in,” she sneered.
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