Just One Touch (Oh Tequila Series Book 3)

by C. A. Harms

  Just One Touch

  Oh, Tequila Series #3

  By C.A. Harms

  Just Once Touch

  Copyright © 2018 by C.A. Harms.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: June 2018

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-382-5

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-382-2

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Too many of us aren’t living our dreams because we’re living our fears instead.

  -Les Brown

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Clayton

  I rolled to my side and the urge to piss hit me. As in, I felt like I was about to burst. Forcing my eyes open, I looked around and was thankful to find myself in my own room, and from the looks of it, I was in one piece.

  I never knew what the hell would happen waking up in this frat house. It was a chance I took every time I closed my eyes, especially when I threw alcohol in the mix.

  Finding the strength to finally move, I lifted my hands off the mattress and panic shot through me. I couldn’t pull my hands apart; they were fused together.

  “Damn it,” I growled, feeling the urge to piss only growing stronger. Using just my legs to wiggle free from the blankets that were wrapped around my body, I managed to climb out of bed, only the sheet got tangled with my feet and I found myself landing face first into the bedroom door.

  “Motherfucker,” I cussed upon impact as my cheek lay smashed to the wooden planks of my door. At this rate I would most likely piss myself before making it to the bathroom.

  I managed to get myself upright once again and realized that opening my bedroom door with my hands superglued together was nearly impossible. Slowly and very carefully I used my thumbs to twist the handle, and on the third try I was able to get it.

  I practically danced down the hallway, the head of my dick tingling so bad it was making my fucking eyes water. The moment I reached the bathroom I lifted my head to the sky and said a silent prayer thanking whoever it was above for cutting me a break by leaving the bathroom door open.

  Once inside I didn’t take the opportunity to close the door, but instead started using my thumbs to hook one side of my boxers down as far as I could before moving to the opposite side. Once exposed, I stood before the toilet, wondering how in the hell I was gonna hold my dick securely while I took a piss without hosing down the entire room.

  Whatever genius decided to glue my palms together was a goddamn prick.

  Without thinking it through, and in a hurry to piss before I ended up embarrassing myself more by pissing my shorts, I spun around and used my ass to lower the lid. The last thing I needed was to fall into the toilet. As I was lowering the lid, I sat along with it, and the pain that shot through me in that instant was like nothing I had ever felt before.

  “Fuck!” My pained cry echoed throughout the dark house.

  There I sat on the toilet, my dick caught between the lid and the base, and if I tried to move it, I only managed to tug on it harder.

  “I need my fucking hands.”

  I couldn’t breathe; even that hurt.

  “Help,” I yelled out. “Goddamn it, fucking help me.”

  Suddenly Isaac and Corbin filled the doorway of the bathroom and both burst out laughing when they realized the situation I had found myself in.

  “Come on, assholes,” I said through gritted teeth. “I shut my dick in the fucking toilet.”

  “We can see that,” Isaac said through his laughter. “What I’d like to know is how?”

  “Guess he’s not pinky dick after all,” Corbin added in one last dig, yet at this point it was getting harder to breathe. The pain had me panting, and I swear to fucking god it felt as if my dick was being slowly ripped off.

  I couldn’t attempt to stand because if I did, the pressure of my thighs pushed down on the lid, which in turn pushed harder on my shaft. Let’s not forget the pulling factor either, which brought tears to my eyes.

  I’d heard and used the expression, “I am going rip off your dick,” a time or two. Okay fine, I could be an arrogant asshole, but it was all in good fun.

  This, right here, was not fun.

  “Hold still,” one of the douchebags said as they each grabbed a shoulder.

  “We’re gonna lift.” The two of them were laughing so hard I knew this would only be disastrous.

  “What the hell is going on in here? It sounds like a dying cat.” I didn’t even have to look up to know it was Red.

  “Oh, shit.” Then I heard a snicker, which did gain my attention.

  There in the doorway, tucked in next to Red as he attempted to back her away, was Blake. Red had a little pow wow with us all after the big fallout with her mother, and declared she be called by her first name now. The girl had really worked her way into our group, much like Morgan. They were like our house sisters.

  The problem was I was in a compromising situation and Red didn’t much care, I guess, for his girl seeing my dick.

  “Some asshole glued my palms together and I couldn’t hold my dick to piss,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Hey, I’m not an asshole.” It took me a minute to realize why she’d said that, and it was like a light bulb came on in my mind.

  “Are you seriously telling me that this,” I held up my still glued hands, “was your fault?”

  “That,” she nodded her head to my joined hands, “yes. But in no way am I responsible for that.” This time she pointed to my dick, or at least the head, which appeared to be changing to an angry shade of purple.

  “You said you were gonna glue my lips shut, and I guess I thought if your hands were glued together you wouldn’t be able to do much.” At this the guys were laughing, Red was smiling at his girl with nothing but pride in his eyes, and I felt as if I was dying from some form of slow, agonizing torture. “I never thought about how you’d be able to…” Her eyes wrinkled up for a moment. “Sorry.”

  “No, babe,” Red began backing her out of the bathroom, “you nev
er apologize for a prank.”

  ***

  “Can I help you?” I looked up from my current position on the hospital bed in the ER to find a young nurse enter my room. “What brings you in today?” Before I could answer, my brother yanked off the little paper sheet they’d given me when I arrived and exposed my battered cock.

  I look up just in time to see the girl’s eyes widen before she quickly attempted to regain her composure. “I won’t even ask you to explain.”

  “I’m gifted,” I said, suddenly finding my confidence.

  “Gifted?”

  “Yeah, I mean, how many men can actually say they are large enough to shut their dick in the toilet?” I squared my shoulders even though I felt like I’d been battered.

  “Gifted wouldn’t be how I would refer to it,” the older nurse mumbled as she moved forward for closer inspection.

  “How would you refer to it then?” I knew I was harassing her but fuck, I needed something else to focus on.

  “Dumb, immature, and unique, but not in a good way.” I looked over her shoulder to find Emelie, my nemesis, enter the room. The girl hated me, and I wasn’t sure exactly why. She glared at me often, and even when I attempted to be friendly she would roll her eyes or call me an idiot. Okay fine, so I was a jerk half the time, but I sorta enjoyed getting a rise out of her. Which made her retaliate and, on most occasions, look for a way to knock me down a notch or ten.

  My eyes locked with hers and she gave me a condescending smile. “So, Clayton, what idiotic move has brought you here today?”

  She wheeled a machine closer, pulled out the cuff for my arm, and her eyes widened when she saw my dick was on full display.

  “What’s wrong, babe, got nothing more to add?”

  Chapter One

  Emelie

  The night shift had been mild compared to normal. I was used to seeing just about everything, after all, college kids could be idiots. But this latest case just topped them all, and of course it had to be Clayton Powell sitting in the ER with his penis on full display.

  “You keep staring at my junk the way you are, I’m gonna have to ask everyone else to give us some time alone.” I looked up and was met with a cocky arrogant smile. “Especially when you rest the tip of your tongue against your lip, the way you are right now. Makes me forget all about the pain I’m in.”

  “I wasn’t staring.” I ignored his smirk as I continued to perform my job. I was so close to finishing my nursing degree and was stuck with the late shift full of dumb ass frat boys and idiot jocks, but it had to be done. I hated it, but it would get me one step closer to my degree.

  One step closer to maybe earning something more than my father’s disappointment. I was always disappointing him it seemed. Being the daughter of a successful lawyer who wanted me to follow in his footsteps was difficult. When I’d broken the news to him that I wanted to pursue nursing, you would have thought I’d told him I was a terrorist. Then my freshman year of college happened, and my world fell apart. I was nothing but a screw-up, and I wanted to be more. Not just for me, but for them, for all of them.

  “Coulda fooled me,” Clayton leaned in and spoke the words softly as I was cuffing his arm, bringing me back to the present.

  He had a slight southern drawl to his voice, one that I hated to admit gave me the tingles. It was an accent that made me imagine him whispering dirty things and at all the right times. But no way; he was such an ass, and I’d done a great job avoiding him so far.

  “But we’ll just pretend that the blush on your face isn’t completely giving you away.”

  I tried to ignore him, as I did on most days. I knew guys like him, those who felt women adored them and that they could walk all over them for their own benefit. I was surrounded by guys like him back home—the upper-class assholes who treated girls like they were nothing more than a game to be won. I was once the girl who used to fall for that shit, but not anymore. I’d learned my lesson: men like Clayton Powell were assholes.

  “Why are you pretending to dislike me so much, Em?”

  “My name is Emelie,” I corrected him, “and I’m not pretending. I do dislike you, so if you’d just be quiet long enough so that I can complete my job, I could get out of here. Believe me, I would rather be any place but here.”

  I could feel his eyes on me, staring at me as his breath fanned out over my cheek. In my mind I was mentally going over my notes from lab today in preparation for tomorrow’s quiz. The last thing I wanted or needed was for him to get any type of reaction from me. He’d find it as a form of interest, and I was anything but interested.

  “I think you’re lying, Emelie.” I closed my eyes involuntarily as my name rolled off his tongue. Chills covered my arms and neck as I mentally lectured myself. “I think you do like me, but for some reason you think you have to hide that fact. I don’t bite, Em, unless you’re into that kinda thing. I’ll do whatever you want me to do to you.”

  I opened my eyes, ripped the cuff from his arm, and turned to place it back on the cart. My hands were shaking and my legs felt weak. With one calming breath I turned back to face him, stepping in close. His eyes roamed over me, pausing at my breasts. Pig.

  “You disgust me,” I told him and his grin widened. “You walk around like you are some kind of god, but you aren’t even close. You’re an ass, Clayton, a complete and total douchebag. I have no interest in you. In fact, I rather enjoy our normal activities where we choose to pretend the other doesn’t exist.”

  “That’s where you are wrong.” I had to admit he was good. He didn’t even flinch at my words and his grin didn’t falter. “I’ve noticed you,” he confessed, “from day one, as you hurried to your seat before the bell rang. I still remember what you were wearing and how well you were wearing it.”

  I swallowed hard, trying my best to come up with some rebuttal, a sly comment that would knock him back down off his high horse. But I had nothing.

  “Pink sweater, hanging off one shoulder. The tightest pair of dark jeans, and these cute little black boots.” My head felt as if it was literally spinning. “Your hair up, much like it is now.” When he reached out to touch my hair I flinched and stepped back.

  Then it dawned on me that we were not alone. I straightened my smock as if it was wrinkled. I just needed something to focus on other than his piercing green eyes.

  “Let’s take a look at the damage,” I heard Dr. Myles say from behind me as he stepped into the room.

  “I think I may just need some TLC, Doc,” Clayton said loudly, and I heard the other guys who were with him chuckle. “And I think I already have my eyes on the person who can give me just what I need.”

  When our eyes locked once more, I glared at him and he had the nerve to wink. Heat rose in my cheeks and I fisted my hands at my side. He was the biggest, most arrogant, ass.

  I spun around and hurried from the room; I just needed some air. Air that I wasn’t forced to share with him.

  Chapter Two

  Clayton

  “There doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage.” I tried not to focus on the doctor, who had his head perched between my legs. His mouth gaped open just slightly and his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he held my dick in his latex-covered hands.

  With my hands still bonded together, I could only hold them about the doctor’s head, almost like I was praying. Or that’s what I imagined it to look like. Emelie stepped to my side and placed a tub with some type of liquid in it, and instead of telling me what to do, she simply pointed to my hands then to the container.

  “Yes?” I knew exactly what she wanted, but it was more fun to torment her.

  “Hands.” One word and a nod of her head.

  “What is it you’d like me to do with my hands?”

  “As far as I’m concerned you can stay like that,” Emelie added with a snarky voice. “It would have been so much better for all of us if whoever it was that did this glued your hand to your mouth instead. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen
so we’re all stuck hearing you talk.” She was a fireball. “Because it’s my job to help you, rather than hurt you,” again she narrowed her eyes, “submerge your hands or I’ll take your hesitation as you refusing treatment and I’ll move on to my next patient.”

  I wanted to say more, but was startled by the cool hands of the doc as he again lifted my cock and leaned in closer. Something about his hot breath on my junk made my stomach turn. “Just a small laceration here, and on the opposing side. Maybe some bruising. That should all heal with time.”

  When he released my cock, I felt relief wash over me. Why the hell couldn’t I have a female doctor? Much like my cute little nurse.

  “We’ll send you home with some antibacterial ointment.” He pulled off the gloves one by one and I covered myself with the plastic sheet or whatever the fuck it was. “Ice pack for the swelling.”

  “He much rather prefers the heat.” I looked over his shoulder just as Emelie stepped back inside.

  “I just need to grab the cart,” she whispered, with her eyes averted to the floor.

  “Heat will not help with the swelling,” the doctor proceeded, but I wasn’t listening. Instead I was watching Emelie try to maneuver the small cart past a chair and the doctor.

  She wore a pair of scrubs that were light pink and looked like they were covered in little teddy bears. Emelie was a tiny little thing but had the roar of a tiger. I could see that she was avoiding me at all costs, looking at the floor instead of to her right, where I watched closely. Just as she reached the doorway, ready to push the cart out of the room, I hollered her name.

  “Hey, Emelie.” She turned to face me, her eyes narrowing almost instantly. Damn, I loved that fire in her. “See you in class on Tuesday.”

  With a roll of her eyes she turned away from me and I smiled wide.