The room was spinning and Cheyenne knew she needed to lie down. Either that or she was going to fall down. Face first and with as little grace as was physically possible.
Doing shots of Cuervo with Ethan’s husband, Beau—the bear of a man who likely outweighed her by a good hundred and forty pounds—shouldn’t have been on her list of things to do tonight, yet that was exactly what she’d done for the last two hours.
Okay, in her defense, she hadn’t been doing shots for two hours straight, although she kind of felt like she had. However, she’d ingested far more than she should have, especially since she’d had very little to eat.
Even in her intoxicated state, Cheyenne had to admit that she’d done relatively well holding her own against the big man. Granted, he wasn’t stumbling around the living room with a huge-ass grin plastered across his face the way she was. The smile appeared to be stuck, the muscles locked up to the point that even her lips hurt.
It had been a good night, despite the fact she was probably going to be sick in the very near future.
“You okay?”
Holy cannoli!
That concerned voice, the one that reminded her of hot, dirty sex, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up in warning. Not that she had the first clue about hot, dirty sex, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Great,” she slurred, unable to turn around and face him. “You?” Cheyenne touched her lips, trying to see if they were still there, because they’d suddenly gone numb.
The dark, rich chuckle that rumbled in her ear had her girl parts feeling the effects of the alcohol as well.
This was not good. Not good at all.
Slowly turning to face Brendon, Cheyenne tried to wipe the grin off her face. Ah, hell. She hadn’t meant to actually attempt to wipe the grin away … with her freaking hands.
Ugghh!
Too late. He noticed.
Brendon smiled and Cheyenne’s hands were no longer needed because her smirk fell away instantly without their help, although, they were … yep, still on her face. She dropped her arms to her side, trying not to fidget. She was awestruck as she stood less than a foot from the handsome man who made her body wish she sang hip-hop songs so it’d have a melody that went along with the dance it wanted to do.
That smile of his … It was likely the most incredible thing she’d seen in her entire life.
“I think everyone’s headin’ out,” Brendon told her.
“Awesome,” she responded quickly, unable to look away from him. “Wait. That’s not what I meant. It’s not awesome that they’re leavin’. It’s—”
“I get what you meant,” Brendon interrupted, his callused fingers resting against her lips to shut her up.
Good thing too because Cheyenne didn’t know if she would’ve stopped rambling on her own. But now she had a bigger problem. He was touching her and the numbness in her lips turned into a full-on blaze from the mere touch of his skin on hers. And worse, she wanted to lick him.
Great.
“You should probably get some sleep,” he suggested, his fingers disappearing from her mouth.
Cheyenne nodded, her head swimming. “Right now?”
Brendon’s chuckle was just as intoxicating as the liquor she’d had. In fact, her head was now spinning more than it had been before.
“I should sit down,” she told him, twisting in order to search for a chair, only to find herself stumbling as the room tilted.
“Whoa there.” Brendon’s muscular arms wrapped around her, keeping her from an ill-timed date with the floor.
Okay, maybe she was the one who tilted.
Whoops. And now her feet were …
“What’re you doin’?” Cheyenne slurred, her eyes locked on the face of the man she’d dreamed about for so freaking long.
“Carryin’ you to bed.”
“Oh. Well, there you have it.”
Unable to help herself, Cheyenne reached up and touched his mouth the way he’d done to her. She’d wanted another chance to feel his lips since that one and only kiss they’d shared so long ago at Moonshiners. Of their own accord, her fingers drifted over and she found herself pinching his cheek.
Heavens. She was definitely drunk.
Brendon’s low, throaty laugh made Cheyenne’s nipples harden.
God, please don’t let him see that my nipples are hard. Please, please, please. I’ll never ever drink again if you’ll just spare me that embarrassment.
“I’m not sure he’s listenin’ right now,” Brendon muttered softly, his focus on where he was going and not on her.
Was that amusement in his voice?
Cheyenne’s eyes strayed upward to land on the sexiest, naughtiest shade of blue she’d ever seen in her life and his gaze shot down to meet hers. “What did you say?”