My Accidental Valentine

Chapter 5. Drunk

I’m still standing there, frozen, trying to make sense of what he just said.

Did Adam Payne really tell me he was in love with me? That he kissed me? And I turned him down?

This has to be a dream. Maybe I passed out during The Lord of the Rings , and my brain decided to throw me into some bizarre alternate reality.

“What?” I say, my brain barely keeping up. “Wait, are you serious?”

Adam lets out a dry, humorless chuckle and looks away, crossing his arms over his chest.

My thoughts spiral as I try to process what he’s saying. I stopped the kiss—the kiss I’d secretly wanted for most of my adult life. And I told him I had a boyfriend?

I force myself to think back to that time, four years ago. Tim and I had hooked up a few times, sure, but we weren’t official. We weren’t serious. We weren’t even exclusive.

The truth is, I only agreed to start dating Tim after that blackout night with Adam. I remember the shame—the desperate need to prove something. To myself, to the world…and especially to Adam. That I was in control. That my life wasn’t a mess.

So, even though my gut told me Tim wasn’t boyfriend material, I still said yes. What should’ve been a casual fling turned into a three-year relationship—a relationship that, if I’m honest, was toxic from the start.

Which means if I told Adam—the guy I was head over heels for—that I had a boyfriend, it was either because I was too drunk to think clearly…or he misunderstood me completely. Maybe, even in my drunken state, I felt like I needed to talk to Tim first. He was pretty hung up on me back then, and I can easily imagine myself wanting to be fair, even while plastered.

Now I’m just standing here, staring at Adam—completely stunned, trying to find the words to explain. To tell him I’ve spent all this time thinking I ruined everything, only to realize I might’ve had it wrong all along.

Suddenly, a laugh bursts out of me—loud and unhinged, like I’m losing my mind. Adam flinches, as if the sound physically hurts him.

The relief I feel is so overwhelming that I can’t stop laughing—and before I know it, I’m pulling Adam into a hug.

He freezes, caught off guard. But after a beat, his arms come around me, hesitant at first, then tighter, like he’s bracing himself for whatever I’m about to say.

“God,” I breathe out, still holding him, my voice muffled against his shoulder as I let out a shaky laugh. “I thought I kissed you against your will and traumatized you or something.”

Now it’s Adam’s turn to say, “What?” I can hear the confusion in his voice—but there’s a hint of a smile, too.

I pull back just enough to look at him, and suddenly, we’re face to face—so close I can feel his breath on my skin. His eyes are fixed on mine, unexpectedly dark, waiting for me to say more.

And I do.

I tell him everything. That I’ve been in love with him all these years. That Tim, at the time, was just a casual hookup, nothing real. I admit I don’t even know why I acted the way I did when I was drunk. I confess how I’ve spent the last four years tearing myself apart over it—ever since I read Peter’s message to Millie. How I wanted to see him, to apologize, but I was too scared to face him.

The words tumble out, raw and unpolished, but it feels like a weight is finally lifting off my chest. And through it all, Adam doesn’t look away—not for a second.

As I speak, Adam’s expression shifts—his face softens, surprise flickering across his features. And in that moment, it hits me: all my anxiety, all those years of regret, were built on nothing but my own wild imagination.

“So… Millie knew you had a crush on me?” Adam asks, still holding me, a slow, disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

I nod, and Adam almost rolls his eyes.

“Peter knew I had a crush on you. And he knew that’s why I stopped coming to Millie’s birthdays. But they didn’t tell each other anything?”

“Apparently not,” I whisper, the disbelief still thick in my voice. Then, with a small, incredulous laugh, I add, “They’re really taking this best friend confidentiality thing way too seriously.”

Adam huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

His breath warms my cheek as his hands move from my waist to my jaw, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

“I’d kiss you…if you weren’t so drunk,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out.

“I’m not,” he says, quiet but sure, like it’s the simplest truth.

I watch his face, memorizing everything—the way his expression softens, the way his thumb brushes my cheek as if he’s reassuring himself I’m really here.

“You’d have to pass a breathalyzer first,” I tease, my lips trembling into a nervous smile. “I can’t spend another four years regretting this.”

Adam chuckles, and my breath catches. His eyes are deep and dark, like a green abyss, and it hits me—that’s what desire looks like.

His forehead rests lightly against mine, and we just breathe together. Then his hand shifts, his fingers threading into my hair as he leans in, stopping just before our lips touch. His nose nudges the side of my cheek, and I shiver at the touch. He’s so close it makes me dizzy, but still—he waits, like this choice has always been mine.

My heart twists, undone by the tenderness and longing in his eyes. There’s no hesitation. No fear.

So I close my eyes, rise onto my toes, and press my lips to his.

His lips meet mine softly, testing, almost cautious. His fingers slide deeper into my hair, holding me steady, but his touch stays light; he’s giving me space to pull away if I want to.

I don’t.

Adam presses me back until the counter digs into my lower back, his body flush against mine. His mouth claims me again, deeper this time—his tongue sweeping against mine, hot and insistent. A low moan slips out of me as heat shoots straight to my cock.

Adam’s hands slide down, gripping my ass and squeezing, and I shudder at the pressure, my body arching into his. His leg shifts between mine, pressing higher, spreading me open. For a moment, I panic—he’s going to feel how hard I am.

I start to pull back, but Adam’s grip tightens as he pulls me in, closing the distance until there’s no space left. Our denim-clad cocks press together, the friction sharp and dizzying. We both gasp and freeze at the contact.

Our eyes meet, breath ragged, faces flushed. Then, slowly, we break into grins—stupid, breathless, and full of disbelief.

Four years of pent-up desire surge through me, drowning out everything else. My hand drifts from his neck, sliding down between us until it presses against the denim covering his cock.

Adam’s breath stutters against my lips, a sharp exhale that deepens into a low, ragged sound. His body tenses as I rub him, the hardness straining against the fabric.

“Fuck...” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to mine, his words rough and uneven.

He shudders and catches my lower lip between his teeth, a soft bite that makes me dizzy.

“You want to take this upstairs?” he murmurs, his voice thick with want.

“Yes,” I blurt out, but then I hesitate. “You’re sure you’re not drunk?”

Adam chuckles again, a low, warm sound that sends a hum across my skin.

“Only a little,” he admits, his grin teasing. “But I’m very much in control, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good,” I murmur, tugging him in for another kiss. I keep it slow, savoring the press of his mouth against mine before finally pulling back, my forehead resting lightly against his.

“Do you…have condoms?”

Adam shakes his head, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

“I’ll ask Peter.”

“Oh god,” I groan, my face burning as I watch him pull out his phone and type a quick message.

His phone buzzes almost immediately, and Adam’s grin widens as he reads the reply.

“Let’s go,” he says, taking my hand and lacing his fingers with mine.

We slip out of the kitchen, moving quietly down the hallway and past the living room before anyone notices. Adam leads me up the stairs to the second floor. When we reach the end of the corridor, we stop in front of his door. I glance over my shoulder and notice the room across from it—that must be the one Peter mentioned earlier, the one meant for me. How did I miss it before?

Adam watches me before opening his door and stepping aside, letting me in first. The moment we’re inside, the door clicks shut behind us, and his hands are on me—fingers slipping over the buttons of my shirt, undoing them one by one. His lips press into mine, firm and hungry, sending a jolt through me.

He pulls back for just a second, his eyes sweeping over my bare chest, lingering like he’s memorizing every inch. He reaches for the button of my jeans, unfastening it, his knuckles brushing my stomach before he slides the denim down to the floor.

“May I?” Adam asks, his hands hovering over the waistband of my briefs. When I nod, he hooks his fingers beneath the fabric and slowly pushes them down, baring me completely. His gaze drops to my cock—already hard, twitching under the weight of his attention.

A soft, unsteady breath escapes me as my hands reach for his shirt, fingers tangling in the fabric. I pull it over his head in one swift motion, the need to feel his skin against mine so overwhelming it almost aches.

My fingers slide down to his jeans, fumbling slightly as I work to unbutton them. Adam steps in, brushing my hands aside to finish the job himself, before slipping his jeans off along with his boxers.

The sight of him—his cock, big and hard just for me—makes my whole body tremble, heat pooling low in my stomach as my pulse races.

Adam steps closer, his body pressing against mine, his heat searing through my skin. His hands slide down to my ass, lifting me effortlessly. He carries me to the edge of the table near the bed and lowers me onto it—the cool surface sending a shiver up my spine, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body.

“Beautiful,” Adam whispers before leaning in and pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to my lips. His tongue glides across my lower lip, making my breath catch—

A loud knock at the door makes us both freeze. I flinch, my stomach jolting. But the door stays closed.

Adam straightens, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to me. He leans in and presses a brief, reassuring kiss to my lips, leaving me breathless and bare on the table as he strides to the door.

He opens it just enough to peek out, crouches to pick something up from the floor, then shuts it again and turns the lock with a quiet click.

“Who was that?” I murmur, still trying to calm my racing pulse. But when I see the pack of condoms and the bottle of lube in his hand, a startled laugh slips out. “Peter?”

Adam nods, a grin tugging at his lips as he returns to me. His body fits snugly between my thighs as he steps closer, his hands resting firmly on my hips.

Our eyes lock—he's watching me, dark-eyed, hungry, and unflinching.

“Can I fuck you, Sammy?” he asks, his voice rough, like he’s barely restraining himself, like he could lose control any second.

God, the way he says my name—needy, raw, like it’s something sacred… I nod, my eyes drifting down to his cock, thick and already glistening with pre-cum.

Adam’s hands press gently against my chest, easing me back until I’m lying flat on the table. My legs lift as he positions himself between them. I hear the soft click of the lube cap before he squeezes a generous amount into his palm. He rubs his hands together to warm it, his gaze flicking to mine, softening for a heartbeat before his hunger returns.

He leans down, his mouth finding mine again. The kiss is slow but deep, his tongue brushing mine as his slick hand moves lower—between my cheeks—fingers circling my entrance, spreading the lube across the sensitive rim.

A breath catches in my throat as he carefully presses the tip of his finger inside. I arch beneath him, my back curving off the table as my body adjusts, welcoming him.

“Relax, baby,” he whispers against my lips, and I breathe out shakily as his finger presses deeper, past the tight ring of muscle. He pulls out just enough to make me gasp before sliding back in—then again, and again—each smooth, maddening thrust making my body hum with need.

His hand shifts, angling just right—then there . A spark of pleasure shoots through me as he brushes that spot inside me, and a whimper escapes my lips.

“Fuck,” I gasp, my hands gripping Adam’s shoulders as my thighs tighten around his waist. Adam’s finger curls again, caressing that spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure straight to my core. God, how is he so good at this?

I start moving without thinking, rocking my hips in time with his motions, fucking myself onto his finger, desperate for more. Another moan slips from my lips, desperate and breathy, as his mouth trails along my jawline.

“God, the sounds you make,” Adam mutters, husky with need.

My heartbeat thrums, my whole body alive with sensation as I roll my hips, seeking the friction and heat.

Adam’s tongue slides over my bottom lip before he moves lower, trailing kisses along my jawline and down the side of my neck. His mouth lingers there, warm and wet, tasting the sensitive skin.

When his lips reach my chest, I suck in a sharp breath. He pauses, glancing up at me with a dark, focused look before his mouth closes around my right nipple.

I groan as his tongue circles slowly, the slick heat making me arch into him. He flicks over the sensitive bud and then sucks, harder this time. The jolt of pleasure makes me gasp, my fingers tightening around his shoulders.

His finger is still inside me, moving in slow, steady thrusts, brushing that sweet spot that sends tremors through my body. My moans melt into soft, needy sounds as the pleasure builds.

Adam’s mouth moves to my other nipple, giving it the same attention. He licks, flicks, and sucks, the combination making my thighs tremble. His breath fans across my skin when he pulls back, just for a second, before his lips return to their work.

“I’ve imagined you like this in my arms so many times,” Adam whispers, his eyes locked on mine. “I’ve made you come in my dreams more times than I can count.”

A whimper slips out at his words, my body tightening in response. Adam dips down, his tongue flicking over my nipple as his finger presses deeper inside me, moving faster. He’s everywhere—his mouth, his breath, his touch—and every nerve in my body feels alive, unraveling beneath him.

Adam’s free hand, slick with lube, wraps around my cock, and I gasp at the sudden, slippery heat. A low, involuntary moan slips out as he grips me, his fingers gliding slowly down my length before stroking back up.

My hips jerk at the sensation, pushing into his hand, chasing the pressure. His thumb swipes over the tip, spreading the pre-cum and making me moan louder, my head thudding back against the table.

“Adam…” I pant, my body tightening under his touch. He gently squeezes me before picking up a steady rhythm, his hand working me in long, smooth strokes.

The dual sensation—his grip on my cock, his finger still inside me—sends shocks of pleasure through me. I arch again, my thighs trembling as another moan spills from my lips, ragged and needy.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Adam says, his voice ragged. One hand moves faster inside me, his touch growing urgent, while the other strokes my cock in a perfect, maddening rhythm.

A loud, desperate moan tears from my throat, followed by helpless gasps and whimpers I can’t hold back.

“Fuck—Adam!” I cry out as my hips buck against him.

His teeth graze my neck before he bites down—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make my body jolt with pleasure. His breath is hot against my skin as his hands move frantically, driving me closer to climax.

“Oh…oh…” The noises tumble from me in waves, my entire body trembling.

“I want to make you come,” Adam growls softly, his lips brushing my ear. “Come for me.”

The moment those words hit me, I fall apart. A choked cry escapes me as pleasure crashes through me. My body tightens, and I come hard, warmth spilling across my stomach and chest in hot pulses.

Adam watches me, his eyes dark and fixed on me as I shudder under his attention. His hand on my cock slows but doesn’t stop, coaxing every last tremor until I’m limp, dazed, and spent.

I lie there, catching my breath, my chest rising and falling as my pulse slows.

Adam’s lips brush against my cheek, then the corner of my mouth, leaving a trail of gentle kisses that make me smile despite the exhaustion. A warmth spreads through me—not just from what we’ve done, but from the way he’s looking at me, so tender and content, like he’s savoring this quiet moment as much as I am.

I glance at him, still bewildered, my thoughts swirling. “Are you some kind of…sex magician?” I murmur, my voice weak. “How did you do that with just one finger?”

Adam chuckles, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Good question,” he says, grinning. “Maybe you’re really responsive…or maybe I’m just that good.”

I laugh, shaking my head, still trying to process the bliss that’s left me boneless on the table.

Looking up at him, I say, “Come here—it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

Adam’s smile is tender and genuine, and my heart melts. I’ve never seen him look so unguarded, so completely at ease.

He picks up his shirt from the floor and wipes me clean, the warmth in his eyes making the simple gesture feel intimate. Then, with surprising ease, he lifts me into his arms, grabbing the lube and condoms before carrying me to the bed.

He lies back and pulls me on top of him, his hands settling on my waist as I straddle him. My gaze drifts down to his cock, still hard and aching. I bite my lip as I shift, sliding down between his thighs. I want to hear him moan—I need to.

I lower my head and give the tip of his cock a slow, teasing lick. Adam sucks in a sharp breath. Encouraged, I wrap my hand around the base and give another lick, letting my tongue glide over the smooth skin. His taste lingers on my tongue, clean and faintly salty. I pause, flicking my gaze up to catch him watching me, his lips parted, eyes dark.

I lean in again, swirling my tongue in slow circles before taking him into my mouth. A soft hum escapes me, the vibration making Adam groan—a deep, broken sound that sends a rush of heat through me. I take him in deeper, my free hand wrapping tighter around the base.

I hear his shaky exhale as his body tenses beneath me. “Fuck,” Adam whispers, barely holding himself together.

When I swallow hard around him, his reaction is immediate—his hips jerk up, and one of his hands tangles in my hair. “Fuck,” he rasps again, his fingers tightening as he holds me there for a moment.

I pull back slowly, my tongue gliding along the underside of his cock as he guides me back down—gentle but insistent, urging me to take him deeper. My heartbeat quickens as he lets out a guttural moan, his grip in my hair tightening. He’s holding back, but just barely.

His other hand slides into my hair as well, cradling the back of my head as he thrusts shallowly—testing, as if he’s afraid that if he moves any harder, he’ll lose control.

“Fuck, Sam…” The words are rough, pleading, and I feel his thighs trembling beneath me. He pauses, breath hitching, his fingers still in my hair like he’s caught between stopping and giving in completely.

I let out a soft hum of approval, relaxing my throat and encouraging him to let go. His hips stutter as he thrusts again, a little harder this time. His head tips back, and the sound he makes—somewhere between a groan and a gasp—sends a sharp, thrilling ache through me.

Adam’s restraint finally snaps as he thrusts into my mouth, his grip firm on my head, his hips moving hard and fast, every muscle tightening as he chases his release.

“Fuck…” he groans, his voice filled with pleasure. But then, suddenly, he freezes, pulling me back as he fights for control, his jaw clenched like it’s taking everything in him to stop.

His fingers slide gently through my hair, his eyes glazed with desire as he whispers, “Put on the condom.”

I nod, my hands trembling as I reach for the foil packet and tear it open. I roll the condom down his length, the heat of him pulsing against my palm. I grab the lube and pour some into my hand, slicking him with slow, careful strokes.

Adam shifts, sitting up against the pillows, his hands steadying me as I straddle his lap once again. He slicks his fingers and slides them between my cheeks, his touch careful. When he presses one finger inside, a soft gasp slips out as my body clenches around him before relaxing. He adds a second finger, twisting and spreading them to stretch me open. My moans blend with his quiet, reassuring whispers in my ear as he works me, easing me further.

When he’s satisfied, he pulls his fingers free and guides me over him. I brace my hands on his chest as I slowly lower myself onto his cock. The stretch is deep and steady as I ease down, inch by inch, until he’s fully inside me.

We both moan, and I whimper as the pain and pleasure blend into one. Adam licks the column of my neck, his hands gripping my waist to hold me still, letting me adjust. But I want to move—I want to feel his cock press against that sweet spot inside me, want to hear Adam grunt and moan beneath me.

So I start to move, pressing against Adam’s shoulders and feeling a rush of power at the way he watches me—flushed, glassy-eyed, barely holding himself together.

I lift myself almost all the way off him before his hands tighten on my waist, pulling me back down as he thrusts up to meet me, again and again, soft grunts escaping with each slap of skin against skin.

The rhythm of our movements picks up, our bodies slick with sweat. I watch Adam beneath me—his face flushed, lips parted. Our foreheads touch, and we freeze, just breathing each other in, both of us teetering on the edge.

When I start moving again, the pleasure is so sharp and all-consuming that I bite my lip to keep from crying out. His eyes stay locked on mine before drifting down to where our bodies are joined, his gaze heavy with hunger.

I can tell he’s close—his breathing turns shallow, and his fingers dig into my sides. My legs burn, and the sore spot on my ass from the fall aches, but I push through, rocking my hips faster until Adam curses and lets out a moan so raw it makes my cock twitch.

I’m already hard again, and Adam’s hand slips between us, wrapping around me, stroking in time with our movements. A whimper escapes me as my rhythm falters—I thrust into his fist and sink back onto his cock, my whole body shaking. The pleasure builds until it crashes over me, and I come hard, spilling across his chest and stomach as I shudder in his arms.

Adam watches me, pupils blown wide, and then, with a deep grunt, he thrusts hard into me—once, twice, three times—and gasps as he comes, his whole body tightening. His arms stay wrapped around me as he falls back onto the bed, pulling me down with him. I land against his chest, both of us breathless, his heartbeat pounding beneath my cheek.

We stay like that for what feels like forever, just holding each other, our hearts pounding in sync. Finally, I ease off him, my body weak and boneless. He grabs a towel from the nightstand and gently cleans me off before wiping himself.

When Adam lies back beside me, he tucks me against his chest. His warmth seeps into me, and I close my eyes for a second, savoring how safe it feels.

Neither of us speaks for a while; there’s only the soft sound of our breathing and the slow glide of his hand along my back.

After a while, I look up at him, my cheek still resting against Adam’s chest. “Do you think they heard us?”

He chuckles. “No. I asked Peter to turn something loud on right before we came up.”

I pause, listening to the faint beat of the music coming from downstairs, my lips curving into a smile. A laugh escapes me. “Wow. I knew Peter was a great guy, but I didn’t realize he was that good of a wingman.”

Adam grins, his fingers brushing through my hair. “Yeah, he is. We’ve had each other’s backs for years. In high school, I let him and Millie hook up at my place all the time while they told their parents they were ‘studying.’ My parents were never home, so it worked.”

I snort. “Yeah, I know. Millie told me.” Then, I pause, thinking. “Wait…what did you do while they…you know?”

Adam chuckles. “Played video games. But if they got too loud, I’d go for a walk.”

I blink, picturing a teenage Adam wandering the neighborhood while his best friend fooled around inside his house with my best friend. “Oh god.”

I let out an uncontrollable giggle. There’s this warm, happy feeling spreading through my chest—like I could float away.

Adam shifts, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. His breath ruffles my hair as he pulls me even closer.

“How’s your ass?” he asks suddenly, gentle but teasing.

I blink and pull back to look at him, caught off guard by the question. “I didn’t take you for such a gentleman.”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and the sound makes my chest feel lighter. “I meant after your fall today.”

“Oh. Right.” I wiggle my hips slightly, testing for any real soreness. “It’s fine—I almost forgot about it.”

“Good.” He kisses my hair again, and warmth floods through me at how tender it feels. “Should we get dressed and go downstairs? Pretend we didn’t just…you know?” His grin is pure mischief.

I smirk, tapping a finger against his chest. “Yeah. I think we owe it to Millie and Peter to make an appearance.”

Adam raises an eyebrow as he grabs his boxers from the floor. “We should also let them know they really need to work on their communication.”

I sit up and stretch before reaching for my briefs. “Yeah, seriously.”