CHAPTER 3
MARCUS
The throbbing in my head wakes me up long before the brightness in the room.
I roll over with a groan, rubbing my hands over my face, and wince at the tenderness in my nose.
After gently prodding and manipulating it, I determine that it’s probably not broken, but it definitely hurts like a motherfucker.
Did I get in a fight?
I can’t remember, but whatever I did, I must’ve deserved something (or, let’s be realistic here, someone) smacking me in the face.
Fucking four days, man. For some reason, the guys and I always get a little stupider than normal when we get to drink on a weeknight.
Opening my eyes, I turn to grab my phone off my nightstand then rapidly realize that I am not in my bed.
Not only am I not in my bed, I’m not in my room, and I’m not exactly sure whose room I am in.
A drowsy moan draws my attention to the bed beside me, where a busty redhead stretches her arms above her head, the sheets barely covering her ample curves.
Her hair is tousled and she shoots me a sleepy smile.
“Hey, handsome.” She shifts a bit more and the sheet slips down, revealing her full breasts and peaked nipples.
I may be a gentleman, but I am a man nonetheless. The sight of her naked body causes all of the blood in my body to rush to my crotch, and my cock stiffens.
Wait, Cooper. Think. Use your head.
Not that one.
I clear my throat, dragging my eyes up to her face and manually forcing my hands to keep to themselves. Mustering any remaining sort of decency and willpower in my body, I say, “Uh… good morning. I-I don’t-”
“Remember last night?” she finishes, raising onto her elbow. Her eyes remain trained on mine as her left hand slides along my stomach on top of the blanket until she grips my length through fabric.
Groaning, I stammer, “R-right.” I close my eyes and try to maintain any sort of semblance of composure. “Last night… or where I am or… um…”
She shoots me a deadly grin as she slips her hand beneath the sheet, her soft skin skimming along mine until she firmly grasps my cock. “My name?”
“Mm hmm,” I whimper shakily.
“Well, that’s good then,” she says, shifting her body down between my legs.
Her breasts brush along either side of the sensitive skin of my cock.
“Because we decided last night that names weren’t necessary.
” The warmth of her mouth envelopes the head, her tongue circling languidly, before she pops her lips from my length.
“Here” She straddles my thighs as she pulls a condom from her nightstand and rolls it on. “Allow me to remind you.”
* * *
The redhead runs her thumb along her bottom lip, then sucks on it, collecting any stray residue that may have been left from my orgasm; the action goes straight between my legs and I’m hard again, despite just having come. If I didn’t already have a rideshare on the way, I’d fuck her again.
As I snap closed the button of my jeans, she leans back and studies me, her body bared for my appreciation. For a moment, I contemplate having her put my number into my phone. Even though I don’t remember last night, she’s been good to fuck this morning; I definitely wouldn’t mind doing it again.
But then, I bend down to grab my shirt from the floor and see it: a white sash.
Glimpses from what I’m pretty sure were last night flash through my mind’s eye: shots. Dancing. A bachelorette party. Red hair. I pick up the sash and turn it over in my hand. Glittery silver letters stare back at me: Bride-to-Be.
Fuuuuuuuck.
* * *
“Alright, motherfuckers. Whose bright goddamn idea was it to let me go home with the fucking bride?” I push my way past Phillips and into the barracks room where Reese and Adams sit in front Phillips’s TV playing on the Xbox.
“Huh?” Reese’s face scrunches up in concentration.
I step in front of the screen and they shout at me, peering around as they try to avoid dying. “Yeah, assholes. I may be a whore, but I am not a homewrecker. So which one of you was it? Was it you, Adams?”
“Dammit!” Adams rips his headset off. “You made me get shot, ya fucking asshole!”
“Agh! Me, too!” Reese glares at me as he tosses his controller on the bed. “The fuck are you bitching about, Coop?”
“The. Fucking. Bride.” I bite out.
Phillips pipes up softly from his chair, “I tried to stop you, dude. You wouldn’t listen.” Both Adams and Reese nod in agreement.
“Then why didn’t you just carry me out of there? I could’ve gotten shot or fucked up, and none of you all would’ve been the wiser!”
Adams shrugs, unbothered. “She said that you were her hall pass. Apparently, she’s always wanted to fuck a soldier, and you fit the bill.”
I stare at him, my eyes wide. “What about her bridesmaids? Did none of them try to stop us?”
Reese shoots me a cheshire grin as he leans around me to navigate through something on the screen behind my back. “The one that I was getting familiar with was too busy shoving her tongue down my throat. By the time we got back over there, y’all were already gone.”
Groaning, I move out from in front of the TV and flop back onto the bed.
Adams’s face appears above mine, an ornery spark in his gaze. “Plus, we didn’t think you’d be too upset. She was hot.”
“She was so hot, bro. And a good fucking lay. No, not good. Great. She was a great lay.” I rub my hands over my face roughly, then jerk them away, quickly reminded by the pain in my nose.
I turn my head to look at them. “Hey, what the fuck happened to my face last night? My nose hurts like a motherfucker.”
The three men share a look, but none of them say anything.
“Hello?” I snap my fingers at them. “Earth to assholes. Did one of you punch me in the face or something?”
“Or something,” Phillips mutters.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Adams grimaces at me sympathetically. “So, you know how we decided to go to The Library last night?”
“Uhhh, no. Last thing I remember, we were taking J?ger shots in here.” I point at the bottle sitting on Phillips’s dresser for emphasis. “That’s literally it.”
“Damn, bro,” Reese says. “You were more fucked up than I thought.”
“Uh, you fucking think?” Reese puts his hands up in surrender.
Adams shoves my shoulder. “Chill, bro. It’s not that big of a deal. We went to The Library-“
“The strip club, right?”
He nods. “Right. You were kind of throwing money around. Speaking of, you might want to check your bank account, beca—”
“Bro…”
“Sorry, sorry. Anyway, you bought a private room and dance, but then you got handsy. The dancer hauled you out to security and the owner, and then you fell on your face—”
“More than once,” Phillips adds.
Adams shoots him a pointed look but continues. “The owner got mad that you were feeling up the dancer and trying to feel her up and kicked us out… and banned us. Aaaand also called the other strip clubs in town to ban us apparently, unless you go apologize. So that’s what happened to your face.”
I contemplate for moment, trying to put the pieces together.
As if he reads my mind, Reese explains, “We went to one of the bars downtown.”
I nod; that explains the bride-to-be. “Well,” I sigh and lean back against the wall. “I guess I know what I’ll be doing this evening.”
Phillips’s eyebrows shoot up in a skeptical look. “If they’ll even let you in.”
“Careful, Phillips,” I point at him. “Or I’ll tell them to keep you on the banned list.” He puts his hands up as if to sarcastically say “ooooh nooo, what will I ever do if I can’t pay to look at but not touch tits?”
“No more cheap beer,” I say weakly, as if that improves my argument at all. “Fine. I’ll go apologize tonight.”
The three of them don’t acknowledge my comment, but they connect an additional controller to their game and hold it out toward me. It’s as close to an apology acceptance as I’m apt to get.