What the absolute fuck am I saying?I’ve lost my mind.In the morning, I should make sure Madison’s okay and drive her naughty self home.A stern lecture would be sufficient and above and beyond what Hendrix would expect.Instead, I’ve gone and spilled what I’ve conjured up in my imagination to her father.
I slap my forehead.
Hendrix blows out a relieved breath.“Thank you, man.I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me.It’s my pleasure.”My pleasure?Jesus.“I’ll sort out transportation for her to get to classes and make sure she’s safe.”
Who’s going to make sure she’s safe from me?I’m an asshole.
Except I haven’t done anything to warrant the name-calling.Not yet, anyway.All I’ve done is failed to tell my best friend that his daughter was wasted and spilled her darkest fantasies to me.
“Thanks again.Let me know if I need to do anything.”
“Will do.Later.”I end the call and lean against my sofa to stare at the high ceiling.
I’m in over my head.This is madness.
Madison Kennedy.
The woman I’ve jerked off to images of for two years is in my house, and she has confessed to having incredibly filthy dreams about me, too.Both awakeandasleep.
My cock hardens at the thought of her doing a naughty schoolgirl scene like the one she described.It’s just too eerily close to the filthy thoughts I have about her when I close my eyes and wrap my hand around my cock at night.
Or in the morning.
Or in the middle of the damn day.
I groan.Naughty schoolgirl is my number-one fantasy in general, but the thought of carrying it out with Madison…
Fucking fuck.
Chapter3
Madison
Someone is sitting on my head.There is no other explanation for the vise grip that’s crushing my skull.
I moan, unwilling to open my eyes.My bed doesn’t feel right.The mattress is too firm.It’s not sagging in the middle.My pillow is too soft.And I think I’m still wearing last night’s clothes.
Suddenly, I jerk awake, panic filling me when I decide I’m definitely not in my own bed in my own house.When I see someone sitting two feet from me—staring at me, no less—I scream.
It takes me a few seconds to realize it’s Myles.Not a stranger.Not some guy I went home with.I push to sitting, trying to remember how I got to Myles’s house.
The room starts spinning.I’m going to throw up.I tug the covers back, scramble from the bed, and run into the attached bathroom.I make it to the toilet just in time before everything comes up.Except there’s nothing in my stomach.I’m dry heaving.And each time it happens, my head pounds harder.
I’m mortified as Myles holds my hair back and hands me a wet washcloth.How the hell did I get here?The last thing I remember is calling my dad to tell him my car was stolen, and…
Fuck.He called Myles.
I groan as I lean back, sit on my knees, and press my palms against my temples.“What did you tell him?”I murmur.
“Tell who?Ohhh… Your dad.”He chuckles.
I tip my head up to glare at him, but that hurts.I shouldn’t have moved so fast.“Shit, Myles.Did you tell him I was drunk?He’ll probably make me move to Germany without letting me finish my semester.I only have a month left.”I groan again as I drop my head into my hands.
“Yep.That’s what he would do.If I had told him.”
I turn my head, slower this time.“You didn’t tell him?”