Something Borrowed by Eve Dangerfield

Author:Eve Dangerfield [Dangerfield, Eve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01N14RO4Z
Goodreads: 33905444
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Published: 2017-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Elle

She woke up fused to her pillow. Her mascara had melted, gluing her eyelashes to the silk cover. A battle between face and pillow ensued, and by the time she achieved separation she’d realised exactly how hungover she was. Her head, once so healthy, was throbbing like an open wound. Her mouth, once so flavorless, tasted like a wet bar rag. Her eyes ached and she was shivery and raw all over, an oyster dumped from its shell. She’d done her share of drinking in her teens and early twenties, but she’d thought she’d finally learned her limits. Apparently fucking not. She was lucky she hadn’t choked on her vomit and died like Hendrix. As she ran a tongue over her filthy teeth, she realised the phrase was familiar. Had she talked about Hendrix to som—

Jackson.

Memories lit up her brain like camera flares. Jackson on the hill. He’d carried her, they’d been laughing. Then he’d brought her here. Then his dark, curly head had been between her thighs. Elle felt Jackson’s tongue ghost over her pussy, and a pang of arousal racked her overcooked body.

She looked around wildly, as though she might have missed a six foot dude out of the corner of her eye. Obviously he wasn’t there, but she swore she’d felt his arm tucked around her as she slept. Moving faster than her hangover was willing to forgive, she snatched up the pillow next to hers and inhaled. The scent of coconut hair product was unmistakable. Her stomach fell. He’d slept beside her and then left without a word. She flopped onto her back, angry but unsure who to be mad at. Herself probably. How many times did a person have to get sloppy-drunk before they permanently repulsed a lover? She’d done it twice in two days.

The weather outside reflected her mood perfectly, dark despite the early hour, wild and windy. Her door and windows were rattling and as she watched a fork of lightning split the sky.

“Perfect,” she muttered.

Knowing she’d feel worse the longer she sat in her own filth, Elle got up. She refused to even look in the mirror as she took four painkillers and got in the shower. Once inside she scrubbed herself from head to foot, washing her hair and brushing her teeth. Sufficiently cleansed, she put on flats and a blue maxi dress and had every intention of going to breakfast when somehow she found herself back in bed. She decided it had nothing to do with Jackson. She was just tired and liable to slap someone for breathing too loudly. She was drifting in and out of consciousness when her front door slammed open, making her yelp.

“Hello, Ellie.”

Elle sat up too fast and almost fell sideways. “Jackson?”

Sure enough he was there, leaning against her doorframe with his a navy polo shirt and sexy three-day beard, too handsome for human eyes. “This is like Groundhog Day with more cunnilingus,” she said, her voice croaky from disuse and alcohol.

“If you ask me, Groundhog Day needed more cunnilingus.

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