28. In Which a Headache Leads to a Potentially Terrible Decision
Chapter 28
In Which a Headache Leads to a Potentially Terrible Decision
E llie woke to a pounding head. Her mouth felt like cotton. Groaning, she tried to sit up.
“Nope, terrible idea,” she said to no one and laid back down. Her head was swimming; her stomach lurched at any slight movement she made. Breathing deeply, she resisted the urge to vomit. Light streaming from somewhere hit her eyes, and she slammed them shut. Had she forgotten to close the curtains last night? She had no recollection. Ellie groaned again.
Please let me be alone.
Parts of dancing in the club and finding that guy came flooding back to her. Opening one eye, she quickly threw her arm over her face as sunlight hit it.
“Hello?” she called; her voice raspy to her ears.
Forcing her eyes to open, she looked around. Good, I’m in my room . Rising slowly, the room tilted sideways. On the nightstand beside her were two aspirins, a large glass of water, and a container of blue liquid.
“Morning, love,” said a familiar voice from the bathroom.
Liam stood framed in the doorway, a towel slung low on his hips, his dark, muscled chest still wet, as a puff of steam floated out of the room behind him, glistening like some golden-brown god. He smiled at her and crossed the room, using another towel to scrub dry his hair.
Ellie groaned. “Oh, god. Not you.” She cradled her head in her hands as every movement made it throb. She groaned again.
“Eh, that’s not much of a greeting,” he teased.
“Liam,” she murmured from behind her hands. “Please tell me we didn’t . . .” she trailed off and looked at him with one eye between her fingers.
“Ah, lass,” he chuckled softly. “If I had you in my bed, you’d remember. Besides, I prefer my girls to be willing. And conscious.” Smiling a wide grin at her, he said, “Look down.”
She did as he asked. Her dress from last night was still on, everything exactly as she had put on before the night began, down to her shoes. Coming to sit at the edge of her bed, he chuckled as she gripped the mattress that sank under his weight.
“What happened?” Her eyes were closed against the spinning room.
“You don’t remember a thing from last night?”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it. No, I don’t remember.”
“You were having a craic until half-past two. Dancing like a fiend. Got up on the bar, handing out shots. Then you were a right leader of drunks by the pool.”
Groaning, she gave her head a little shake. “How badly did I embarrass myself?”
“Dunno if I’d call it embarrassment, but you are not some steward’s favorite person this morning.”
As she lifted her head, confusion was evident on her face.
“You vomited in a fake palm tree.”
This time, the groan was more forlorn.
“Don’t worry, lass, only everyone who followed you saw. You were like Pan leading a crowd of lost boys. Just a little whistle had them coming round,” he said with a laugh as she moaned into her hands. He patted her shoulder, then wrapped his arm around her. “Oh, sweet Ellie, you are not Irish.”
“My hair hurts,” she said from behind her hands.
Liam kissed the top of her head. “Right. I’m going to my room. I left you a sports drink and water with the aspirin on your nightstand. Drink both, take the medicine, shower, and you’ll feel better.” He slapped his towel-covered thighs as he stood.
“Liam?”
“Yes.”
“How’d we wind up here?” she asked, picking up her head out of her hands.
His smile lit up his entire face. A line of perfect white teeth gleamed in the morning light, chuckling at her expense.
“You tried to get me to reenact the scene from Titanic on the bow of the ship. You told me I was Rose, and you were Jack. If I hadn’t brought you back to your room and forced you to lie down, I was afraid I would be fishing you out of the ocean this morning.”
Ellie scrunched up her face in a frown and nodded her head. “Sure, makes sense,” she said sarcastically.
He laughed at her as he reached the door. “Remember. Drink what’s on your bedside, take the aspirin, and shower.”
As he started to leave, she called. “Liam!”
Turning to look at her over his shoulder, he raised his eyebrows.
“You’re going like that? In just a towel?”
He smirked. “I have on about as much clothing as Evander had when I saw him heading back to his cabin.” His laughter lingered in the room as he stepped out into the hallway, the door shutting behind him.
What happened to Evander?
A few minutes later, drinks drunk, aspirin taken, Ellie was in the shower. The hot water felt good washing over her sore muscles. She rolled her head from side to side, letting the heat relax her tight shoulders. The water ran over her hair as she tipped her head back, gliding down her body in a rushing waterfall. She was in the middle of shampooing when a cloudy memory popped into her mind. Memories flooded as if she were in an awful TV show with poorly done flashbacks.
She remembered grabbing Evander’s shirt collar. Remembered kissing him, opening his shirt, and pushing him back against the ship. She had begged him to let her taste him, told him she wanted his cock, and something in her mouth. She was breathing heavily as the water poured over her, pure mortification pulsing through her. Evander was always so reserved, so proper. Sure, he had lost control that night in her bed, and part of her loved the fact he had. But he trusted her, and she took advantage of him.
“Oh shit!” The walls absorbed her humiliated groan as she recalled people were on the deck.
Had she gone down on him in front of other people?
The problem was, everything was fuzzy. She had been dancing and watching him, getting increasingly turned on. And annoyed. Horny and angry were never a good combination with her. The guilt of this morning’s revelation slammed into her. He had told her something important, and all she wanted was his mouth against hers. In her drunken state, Ellie had used the small amount of trust they had built and took advantage of his vulnerability. She sobered quite a bit. Syren’s pep talk had stirred up something, lustful curiosity, perhaps? Penn had never looked at her the way Evander did. He’d never gotten so excited from a make-out session that he came. The notion that she could make someone like Evander lose control had given her confidence. And that confidence went straight to her head and into her mouth, apparently.
Penn hated oral sex. He’d want it in the moment but as soon as she enjoyed it, he’d degrade her. Making her feel self-conscious for liking sex, making her question her own desire. He’d grab her head hard, pulling her hair and forcing her to continue. Once he was done, he’d belittle her. She only went down on him if she had too much to drink, and from what Liam said, she drank way too much. Evander must feel the same, shouldn’t he? She didn’t remember even asking his permission, just pushing him, touching him. Ellie had let alcohol and lust cloud her judgment. She wanted a fling, not a sexual harassment lawsuit. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of her acting on impulse.
And now she had to face him.
If her head wasn’t already thumping, she would have pounded it against the shower wall.