by LS Anders
“You two are going to make the most beautiful babies.” Avie’s comment drew everyone’s attention her way, the room frozen in wide eyed stares and unhinged jaws, but she didn’t seem to notice, completely fixated on Rayna and Tegan. An amber luminescent glow shone from within her eyes as if she were in a trance and seeing something invisible to everyone else.
“Premonition.” Gabriel nodded sagely, pointing a finger at Avie.
“Gabe, I’m gonna stab you in the head with my fork, if you don’t stop with that bullshit about my girl,” Cale warned.
“Don’t call me Gabe, douche nugget. You know I hate that shit,” Gabriel fired back.
“What has gotten into the two of you, anyway?” Avie asked, the spell broken as she shared a glare between the two.
“I swear, I finally get Callie raised and here comes Gabriel to take her place. You two boys act worse than Cale and Callie ever did. I’m so glad we are back here and not out there,” Evana blew up, jabbing her finger in the air towards the door. “You guys are so embarrassing. When will you learn how to act? And, leave Tegan and Rayna alone. Can’t we just have dinner in peace without all the constant bickering?”
Another round of gaping mouths was passed around the table, all eyes shifting to Evana. Out of all of them, she was the least confrontational, the peace keeper and problem solver of the group. Being the boss and owner, she was the matriarch and wasn’t known to bite the heads off her kittens.
Something had been bothering her of late. Tegan had only known her a handful of months, but something in her life had reached its breaking point and she was more uptight than he had ever seen her. Shop gossip was chirping the same, so it wasn’t his imagination.
“Sorry, E,” the group answered as one, having the good sense to look embarrassed.
“Yeah, yeah,” Evana responded, unfolding the napkin in her lap, their apologies being accepted with a lack of confidence that they would ever really stop. She sat a little straighter when the waiters came back with their trays laden down with alcohol. “Thank you, God, the drinks are here.”
Tegan released Rayna’s shoulder from his loose hug and sat back as the waiter placed a thin wooden board with twelve small glasses of frothy liquid ranging from the palest ale to the blackest stout on the table between them. The names of each brew etched into the wood.
The stout he already knew he liked, having purchased a growler with his meal to go after being attacked by Vehn’s fans his first night out in NYC. It had a seriously high alcohol content that had nearly cracked his head open the following morning as he had polished off the entire liter.
“So, which one do we try first?” Rayna’s excitement over something so simple chipped away more of the permafrost off Tegan’s heart.
He cleared the lump in his throat before answering, “Well, it’s better to go from light to dark. Darker beers tend to have more flavor, and you want to swoosh a little water around in your mouth after each taste, kind of like a wine tasting. Here, try the pale ale first.”
Rayna took the little glass he offered, drinking half and handing it to him to finish.
Tegan tossed back the rest knowing the pale brew wouldn’t be to his liking. “What did you think?”
“It was alright. It didn’t have very much flavor, but it didn’t totally suck,” she smiled.
His lips twitched at her assessment. “I agree.”
Settling into a comfortable closeness, they shared an easy conversation while working their way through to the blackest stout. Rayna decided she liked the porter best, and Tegan found himself left with a strange sadness that their moment of chaste intimacy was over.
The waiters had come and gone once again to collect their food orders. Tegan had ordered the same classic cheeseburger as Rayna trying to grasp at a common thread, not wanting their closeness to end. Like a piece of meat slapped between two pieces of bread was going to somehow help him forge a bond with her.
He didn’t want or need a fucking relationship of any kind! Tegan yelled at himself in silence, but the bad boy inside him howled in protest, panting and drooling over a chance to get her alone again, while the little boy yearned for that romantic closeness.
By the time they’d finished dinner, Rayna’s eyes were glassy after finishing off her third porter and began to lean heavily on him, even placing her hand possessively on his thigh. He liked this side of her but knew she was acting on an alcohol induced flirtation.
Leaving the restaurant, everyone said their goodnights, pairing up and moving off in their own directions. Evana nodded her approval when Tegan took hold of Rayna’s hand and led her over to the subway that would carry them to her apartment on 77th Street.
His good intentions to see her home firmly in place, he held onto her hand as they made their way through the subway station. Rayna was rocking a serious buzz and it showed in the slight weave of her walk. As they took their seats, she kept her hand intertwined with his, then cupped her hand around his bicep and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was sorely testing his resolve, but there was no way she was going home alone. A pretty girl in NYC with a buzz, riding alone on the subway was a recipe for all kinds of unsavory endings.
Arriving at her apartment, Tegan shouldn’t have stepped inside Rayna’s small yet tidy kitchen. He should have stayed in the fucking hall along with the good intentions he’d just shrugged off on the other side of the door that was beginning to close.
He marveled at how everything in her apartment had its place, which is how he’d always kept his home. His house in Boston was modest and small, and he’d learned a long time ago how to organize his belongings and live with less. He was out of his element when he’d moved in with Vehn, feeling lost in the enormous luxury of the penthouse. He’d found himself constantly rearranging his suite with what little he’d brought with him, but no amount of reshuffling had made him feel like he belonged in such well-appointed surroundings. It was much the same feeling he had when he lived with the Mathieu’s, like a stray dog allowed inside merely to appease the conscience of the home owners.
Rayna flipped the dead bolt into place locking them in together, turning she leaned back against the door. He moved towards her, his eyes roving slowly over every square inch of her. Placing his palms on either side or her head, he caged her in. Biting her lower lip, she smiled timidly up at him before closing the distance between their lips.
The kiss began as nothing more than a tentative brush before Tegan took the lead. Cupping her face in both his hands, their tongues met, exploring, re-familiarizing themselves with the taste and feel of the other. Lifting her easily, she wrapped her legs around his middle as he took them down the narrow hall to her bedroom.
One knee on the bed, he gently laid her down. Continuing to rub her sexy little body on him with a feline grace, she undulated, raising her hips off the mattress in a sensual plea for more that ramped up his slow and gentle into a burning urgency. Raising up, he whipped his shirt off, tossing it to the floor, only to halt at the reverence and awe pouring out of her lovely eyes.
“Oh, wow!” Rayna sat up quickly, running her hands over the rigid slabs of muscle that made up his chest. “I’ve never seen muscles like this on an actual person.”
“Pfft. If you don’t stop looking at me like that, my head’s gonna swell up so big, I won’t be able to get back out the door.” He had never been as thankful as he was right now that he’d spent extra time in the gym. It wasn’t to impress a girl, but to burn off stress and relieve the aggravations that came with being Tracy’s husband.
“Well, that’s a good thing. Maybe I don’t want you to leave.” Her hand dropped to pop the button on his jeans.
Leaning forward, Tegan took her back down to the mattress capturing her mouth with his. This was exactly what he shouldn’t be doing, but he was relishing every second. Her eagerness was driving him hard and all he could think of was how right it would feel to sink himself inside her tight sheath.
Her curious hands felt incredible as they burned a
trail over his pecs to his shoulders and back. Her hips moved perfectly with his smooth thrusts as he pressed his hardness against her dampening panties. Aside from the easy access, he loved the fact that she always wore dresses. So feminine, so sweet, so—
Her elegant hands shoved against his shoulders. Fuck, he knew he shouldn’t have pushed her so hard. He was taking advantage of her in the worst way for his own selfish pleasure.
“T, I don’t feel good. I think I’m gonna—” Scrambling out from under him, she stumbled, weaving her way out of the bedroom and back down the hall.
Rayna barely made to the bathroom in time to empty the contents of her stomach. She’d ignorantly thought his kisses were the reason for the room spiraling out of control. Obviously, she’d had far too much to drink, trying to drown some of her shyness in beer.
His weight had been an unfamiliar pleasure. The feel of his mouth ravaging hers, and the hardness of his erection pressing into her feminine flesh had made the room start to tilt. The surge of nausea had come out of nowhere.
Beginning to sob, she wretched again. If she didn’t feel so horrid, she would be horrified.
Large hands swept her hair away from her face, securing it at her nape while she continued to heave up her insides. The cheeseburger wasn’t nearly as fabulous coming up as it had been going down. Water ran in the sink behind her. The cool, damp wash cloth that was placed on the back of her fevered neck felt like heaven.
Reaching up near the handle to flush, she swatted at empty air. Thankfully, Tegan took care of that too, the acrid stench swirling away, never to be seen or smelled again.
“Here you go Kitten, rinse that taste out of your mouth.”
A glass of cold water was placed in her hand. Clutching the glass, it shook as she tilted it back. Swooshing the clean water around, she spat. After several more times, she’d managed to remove most of the acidic taste, making her feel less like purging.
Lolling back against the vanity, embarrassment heated her cheeks as Tegan removed her shoes.
“I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t apologize. You had a lot of beer, and we both should have passed on that shot of Tequila Gabriel insisted we toast to Cale and Avie. Are you feeling well enough to get cleaned up?”
“My heads still swimmy. I think I’ll stay down here for a little while. The cold tile feels really good on my legs.”
“Do you have anything like Gatorade?”
“Um… no, I don’t think I do.”
“Where’s your keys, Kitten? If I make a run to the store, will you be alright for a few minutes?”
For a man that was a hardened bad-ass, the terms of endearment pouring out of his mouth seemed that much sweeter and as unexpected as his care and concern for her. Brent would have just voiced his disgust and left her to suffer alone. Pulling her hair back while she puked would never have crossed his selfish mind.
“On the counter in the kitchen, I think. I was a little preoccupied when we first got here. Don’t really remember what I did with them.”
Tegan gifted her with a rare smile, so fleeting, she might have just imagined it. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
“Alright.” Leaning her head back, she pulled the washcloth away from her neck to press against her hot cheeks. That smile would have melted her insides if there was anything left in there to melt.
The clap of the door shutting and clunk of the dead bolt setting into place let her know that he had found the keys. She really needed to drag her drunk ass off the floor before he got back. At least clean herself up so she didn’t appear any more pathetic in front of him than she already felt. But any movements she made caused her head to spin and her stomach to roll. Gripping the sides of the toilet, more hot liquid poured out of her. It seemed impossible that her stomach could hold that much, yet there it was.
Vomiting seemed to clear her head. Taking advantage of the momentary reprieve, she slowly lifted herself off the floor catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror over the sink.
For the love… she looked like death eating a cracker.
Switching off the light, she turned on the faucet rewetting the washcloth and wiped the coolness over her face. Putting her mouth in the stream of water, she rinsed again wondering if the minty flavor of toothpaste would make her ill. Not wanting to risk it, she rinsed several more times in hopes the clean water would be enough to take away that pungent vomit taste.
She desperately wanted out the clothes she was wearing, especially her panties. The cotton strip, soaked through from Tegan’s kisses was sticking to her vagina, now cold and squishy.
Ever so slowly, she swallowed hard taking one step at a time towards the door. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever been this drunk. Even the sleepover at Evana’s after Brent’s funeral and all the margarita’s she’d tossed back hadn’t yielded results this catastrophic. Tegan must think she was a complete loser. She wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t come back.
Three-hundred years later, she’d made it down the hall and back to the bedroom. Pausing a moment in the doorway, she leaned her forehead against the jamb taking deep breaths to calm the pitch and roll of her stomach. There was no way anything more could be down there and dry heaving wasn’t anything that she looked forward to because once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop for hours.
Finding a moment of calm, she moved forward to sit on the foot of the bed. The rumpled comforter adding humiliation to her spinning head. This was not anything she would have predicted this night to be like.
“Rayna?” Tegan’s deep voice was a shock in the quiet of her apartment.
“In here.” She swallowed back the bile that had settled in the back of her throat. “I’m in here.”
Tegan came around the corner, his huge body filling the doorway. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You look a little green,” he commented, raising a brow.
“I feel green.” She rushed the words past the thickness in her throat.
“Let’s get you back in the bathroom,” he suggested.
“I really want out of these clothes.”
“Alright, Kitten. Stay right there for a sec.”
His heavy footsteps were easy to track through her small apartment. In the kitchen, she heard a few cabinets open and shut and then the crinkle of plastic. Next stop was the bathroom and another cabinet door opened and closed. More with the plastic crinkle, then he reappeared, wastebasket with a plastic liner in hand.
Setting it at her feet, it was a beautiful sight knowing she wouldn’t have to make a mad dash to the bathroom if the urge to purge struck again.
“Where are the clothes you need?”
“In the dresser. A long T-shirt and panties are fine.”
The heated look he gave her would have melted her in a puddle at his feet if she weren’t so nauseous.
Opening and sifting through several drawers, he held up the items he’d picked out for her approval. As he knelt in front of her, she couldn’t resist reaching out to touch the top of his shiny black head.
“You have the most beautiful hair. It’s so soft, like bunny fur.” She giggled, thinking how ridiculous she sounded, but she might as well take advantage of her loose tongue before she sobered up. “You are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
Even though his face looked to be slightly spinning and there seemed to be two of him, she watched as Tegan’s cheeks tinted pink.
Clearing his throat, “Thanks… sorry, I don’t know what to do with that. Compliments aren’t really my thing. Let’s get you changed.”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you—”
He placed a finger across her lips to silence her. “Stop apologizing. Let’s start with this dress.”
Unzipping the back, he slid the garment down to her waist exposing her plain, cream-colored bra. It was her favorite and most comfortable, but not something she wanted a sexy as sin man like Tegan to see her wearing.
&nbs
p; Bringing the T-shirt over her head, she slipped her arms through the holes. Reaching behind her, he unclasped her bra. Pulling the straps one a time through the arm holes and down over her arms, he removed the undergarment without ever seeing her breasts.
Next were her panties and the dress. He looked everywhere except for the flesh he’d revealed, taking such pains to maintain her modesty. Setting those aside, he slid the fresh panties on one foot at a time and up to her thighs. Resting her hands on the span of his shoulders, she raised up enough to allow him to pull the white cotton the rest of the way up.
“You still doing ok? You need the wastebasket?” he asked.
“No. Not yet.”
“Let’s try and get you situated on the bed.” Tegan stood, walking to the head of the bed and folded down the bedding making a place for her to lie down, propping up the pillows against the tufted headboard. “Come on, I’ll help you. Lean on me.”
Taking his arm, she used him as support to make the short journey from the foot of the bed to the head. Sitting down, she half reclined against the pillows. Covering her to the waist, Tegan instructed her to place one foot on the floor.
“Trust me. The one foot helps keep the bed from spinning and stay mostly sitting up, that helps too.” Setting the wastebasket next to her on the floor, he left the room again returning with a glass of fizzy liquid. “It’s ginger ale. Take small sips of this. It will help settle your stomach and when you feel up to it, we’ll wash down a couple of Motrin with a bottle of Gatorade. Your head will be thanking me in the morning.”
“I’ll go ahead and thank you now. Did you use to be a nurse or something? You seem to know exactly what I need to make me feel better.”
“No.” A shadow of something she couldn’t name passed across his chiseled features. “I’ve had to learn these skills due to unfortunate circumstances.”
“Oh. Did you have a family member that’s been ill?” Rayna asked, his answer tweaking her curiosity.
“You could say that. My wi… Tracy, the woman I’m divorcing, has a serious drug problem. So, I’m used to dealing with her in various stages of fucked up.”
