2500 Like celebration excerpt from PLAY WITH ME

Okay, my friends, to celebrate my author page reaching 2500 new friends, I'm posting this really, really long excerpt from PLAY WITH ME, which releases in March. Remember, this is a first draft, and may be edited before publication! Happy Reading! xo

“Okay, what are we drinking to this time?” I ask and look around the table at my friends and their men. All of the parents left the party a few hours ago, and all that’s left are Jules and Nate, Natalie and Luke, Stacy and Isaac, Brynna, Matt, Caleb and Will. All of the other guests have gone home, leaving the eleven of us to drink shots and laugh and catch up.

I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.

If I drink this next shot, I just might forget the escapade in the bathroom with Will.

Maybe.

Probably not.

Speaking of Will, he keeps watching me, sipping a beer, quiet. But I ignore him and lift another shot of tequila in the air. So far, we’ve toasted babies, rock and roll, tattoos, shopping, and shopping again.

“Here’s to orgasms, and the three I’m going to have tonight!” Natalie exclaims, earning fits of giggles from the rest of us girls while the boys – all except for Luke – grumble about TMI.

“To orgasms!” we all concur and slam the shot.

I stopped using the training wheels of lime and salt three shots ago.

I glance back over at Will, who’s now in a deep conversation with his brother Caleb, and despite my clearly drunk state, my thighs clench just at the sight of him. Geez. He’s all broad shoulders and muscles and blue eyes.

I should have done him in the bathroom.

Stop it! That’s just drunk and horny Meg talking.

“So, Meg,” Jules slurs as she leans over toward me and plops her arm around my shoulders. “Why are you still single, my beautiful friend?”

“Because my job is my relationship, my equally as beautiful friend.”

“That sucks.”

“It’s fine.” I wave her off and take a sip of my fifth margarita. Damn, I really should have eaten more at dinner.

“Does your job give you orgasms?” Natalie asks as she crawls into Luke’s lap.

“No,” I giggle.

“Then it’s not fine,” she responds smugly.

No, it’s not fine, but it is what it is. I need to change this subject.

“You should sing something,” Jules claps her hands and bounces in her seat.

“You are all starting to kill this really great buzz I’ve got going on.”

“Sing!” Jules demands.

“I can barely talk. No singing. I haven’t sung in a long time anyway.”

“Okay, then let’s dance.” Jules stands, and then wobbles. Nate pulls her in his lap, laughing down at her.

“I think it’s time I take you up to the room, baby.” She cups his face in her hand and smiles up at him.

“Okay. Can I have some orgasms?”

“I think I can make that happen,” he replies with a smirk.

“No fair!” Natalie exclaims. “I want orgasms!”

Dear God, did we always talk about orgasms when we were drunk in college?

“Then let’s go up to our room too, I’ll give you those orgasms.” Luke kisses Nat’s cheek and stands with her cradled in his arms.

Jesus, Luke Williams is in the same room with me, talking about orgasms.

This is crazy.

“I’m out too.” I slam one last shot, grab for my purse and stand. The room spins a bit, but I brace myself on the back of a chair and take a deep breath.

“You’re not driving are you?” Nate asks.

“I’ll call a cab.”

“I’ll take you home.” Will stands too and is suddenly at my side, gripping my elbow.

“You drank too,” I remind him.

“I had one beer. I’m fine.”

Oh.

“Really?”

“I’m in the middle of a season, Meg, I can’t drink much.”

“What kind of season?” I ask as the room spins slowly around me. I’m vaguely aware of snickering happening around me but I’m too drunk to kick anyone’s ass.

“Football,” he says gently and brushes my hair behind my ear.

“You want to play football?” I’m so confused. “I’m too drunk to play football.”

Will laughs and shakes his head. “No, sweetheart, I will play football on Sunday. With my team. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah. You’re a football star.” I wave him off and turn toward my friends. “He’s a big time football player. Did you know?”

Natalie giggles at me. “Meg, you’re funny. I’m glad you’re hanging out with us again.”

“Dude, you got her?” Caleb asks.

“Yeah, I got her,” Will confirms.

“Who you got?” I ask.

“You, drunk girl. Come on.” He turns to lead me toward the exit, and I start to follow him, but for some reason my feet don’t work very well.

“Um, Will?”

“Yeah?”

“I lost my feet.”

“What?” he laughs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t find my feet.”

Why is everyone laughing at me? This is serious!

“Okay, I’ve got you.” He lifts me effortlessly into his arms and cradles me against his chest.

“You don’t have to carry me.”

“If I want to get you in the car and take you home, I think I do.”

“I thought you wanted to play football.” I yawn and lean my head against his shoulder. Hmm… he still smells good.

“Not tonight.”

“I think I’m drunk.”

“What was your first clue?” he chuckles.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Mungumry.”

“Yeah, you scare me.”

***

“What kind of car is this?” I ask.

“It’s a Shelby.”

“Is Shelby your girlfriend?” I ask, mortified. Holy shit! I made out with a guy who has a girlfriend!

“No, this car is a Shelby Mustang, Megan.”

“Oh. Then who is your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Why not?”

“No time.” He shrugs. “No one has interested me, until very recently.” He mutters that last part, and before I can ask him what he means by that, he pulls up to my townhouse.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome. Stay there.”

I don’t think I could get out of this car if I wanted to. It sits really low to the ground, but it’s nice. The seat is comfortable.

Suddenly the passenger door is open and Will is leaning inside, pulling me out of the car. He gets me to stand, and then lifts me again.

“I could probably walk now.”

“I doubt it. Just don’t throw up on me, please.”

Well, I didn’t feel like throwing up until he said something. Now my stomach is rolling and I have that icky feeling in the back of my throat.

Fuck!

“Where are your keys?” he asks.

“Handbag.”

“Do you want me to get them?”

“Yes.” Just breathe. Just breathe and you won’t throw up.

“Okay, I’m going to stand you by the door. Just lean on the wall for a second.”

Is he speaking English? I don’t understand him, all I can concentrate on is not throwing up. He shuffles through my bag and produces my keys.

“This one.” I point to the house key and he unlocks the door and scoops me up again, carrying me inside.

“You don’t have an alarm system?” he asks with a frown.

“No.”

“Why not?” he demands.

“Too expensive. Fuck, put me down.”

He lowers me to the floor and as soon as my feet hit the ground I sprint to the bathroom, and hurl about two bottles of tequila into the toilet.

It never tastes as good coming up as it did going down.

Oh, sweet Jesus, make it stop. My stomach convulses and shudders, and I feel a sweat break out on my skin.

Suddenly my hair is scooped back off my face and a cold cloth is pressed to the back of my neck.

Fuck, I forgot he was here. How mortifying.

“You can go,” I mumble and rest my forehead on my arm, still cradling the toilet.

“I’ll stay.” His voice is firm and maybe a little grim.

“I’m okay, Will.”

“I’m not leaving you like this, so shut it.” He gently lifts my head and presses another cold cloth to my forehead, making me moan in delight.

“That feels good.”

“I know. Are you done throwing up?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, let’s get you in bed.”

“Hey!” My head jerks up and I pin him with a glare. “You’re not getting me into bed.”

“Yeah, I am. Don’t worry, sweetheart, no hanky panky.” He grins and I groan as another wave of nausea hits. I’m suddenly bone-tired.

“Okay.” I stand and he wraps an arm awkwardly around my waist. He’s just too tall for his own good. “I’m fine, Will. The worst is over. You can go.”

He glares down at me and wipes my face with the cool cloth. “I’ll make sure you’re asleep before I leave.”

“Why? I haven’t exactly been nice to you.”

“Because I’m not an asshole, and the sooner you realize that, the better.”

I frown at him, not understanding him at all. He opens the drawers in my dresser, shuffling through clothes and socks, then turns to me with a scowl.

“Where are your pajamas?”

“I don’t wear pajamas.”

“So what do you wear to bed?” he asks and plants his hands on his hips.

“Nothing.”

He closes his eyes and exhales deeply, then searches through my drawers again until he finds an old t-shirt and throws it at me. “Here, put this on.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m climbing in that bed with you, and you can’t be naked or I will be an asshole.” He looks almost angry.

“Turn around,” I murmur. When he’s facing the other direction, I quickly unzip and step out of my dress and pull the t-shirt over my head. I’m not wearing panties, but the t-shirt is long enough that you can’t see so I don’t care. “I don’t think I can take my sandals off without falling over.”

Will turns to me and his eyes soften. “You look so young right now.”

“I’m sure I look like shit, but okay. Sandals?”

“Sit.” He kneels before me and takes my shoes off, and then tucks me into the bed. He unbuttons his shirt, lets it fall off his shoulders and drapes it on my desk chair. Holy muscled body, Batman.

“Your place is nice,” he mutters.

“Hmm.” I close my eyes to block out the delicious image of a mostly-naked Will. I hear the zipper of his pants and the rustling of him stepping out of them, and then the bed dips as he crawls in beside me. He turns me away from him, and pulls my back against his front.

“Sleep.”

“Why are you still here?” I ask sleepily. I should demand that he go, but damn if this doesn’t feel good.

“I don’t know,” he whispers.