Chapter 17 #3
“I’m always careful,” I grinned, and he rolled his eyes.
“Sure, you are. Don’t go hacking that system again tonight either.”
“I won’t. It’s dark and she’s in bed anyway. Nothing to snoop on,” I shrugged, patting him on the shoulder and grabbing my keys from the kitchen counter. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I headed outside to where my car was parked, driving off into the night and heading home.
The last person I expected to see when I stepped inside my house was Skeeter. A very drunk Skeeter.
“Are you here to kill me? Because I’d appreciate it if we could have a rain check and come back to this another time,” I joked, tossing my keys on the counter and shrugging my jacket off.
“Why do you keep messing with my head?” he mumbled, squinting at me as if it would help him focus better.
“How did you get here? Where’s your car?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t seen it outside.
“You played me, Aurora played me, and I need Slash to answer the phone so I can ask him to deal with crew business because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” he continued, making me frown.
“Slash is gone, Skeet.”
“That doesn’t get him out of work. Slack bastard,” he grumbled, almost falling off the bar stool as he tried to stand. “He died for a snake.”
“You’re too drunk for this conversation. We can tell you Rory didn’t betray you until we’re blue in the face, but you won’t believe us. Go home and sleep it off.”
“I can’t. It’s too quiet there.”
“Well, you can’t fucking sleep here. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night, clarity will come back, and you’ll murder me in my sleep,” I chuckled, moving closer to help him stand when he almost fell again. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”
“Mark, please,” he said quietly, and I paused to look at him as I kept an arm around him.
He looked defeated. I hadn’t seen him like this before, and I’d seen him in some pretty bad states over the years.
“Just remember, if you kill me, you’re starting war with my guys,” I warned, leading him towards the spare bedroom.
He flopped back onto the bed with a groan, and I rolled my eyes before helping him get his jacket, shoes, shirt, and jeans off.
His knife and gun would have to go in my safe for the night too.
“You’re a pain in my ass, you know?”
“I’ll use more lube next time if it hurts,” he joked, peering up at me. “I hate that I don’t hate you.”
“Get in bed, baby,” I murmured, running a hand through his hair and enjoying the fact he let me.
“Everything’s so fucked up,” he mumbled, thankfully letting me help him under the blanket.
He looked kind of pathetic, like a dog left out in the rain, and despite telling myself I needed to turn the light off and go to bed myself, I laid down beside him.
He instantly reached for me, pulling me against him. I pressed a kiss to his chest and he shuddered, holding me tighter and making me realize just how low he must have been to be trying to siphon comfort from me.
His body was firm, my hand lifting to explore his muscular back.
“You’ve been working out a lot,” I said randomly, lifting my head to look at him and ending up with his mouth on mine. It was hard and demanding, my cock waking the fuck up super fast as if it was finally getting to touch him.
There was no way in hell I was fucking him when he was this drunk, but it was really hard to remind myself of that when he rolled us so he was lying over me and his hand wandered up my shirt.
“Skeet, we can’t,” I groaned, his hand pushing my shirt up so he could explore my chest with his mouth. He bit my pec sharply, making me curse as he trailed his hand lower to my pants. “Skeet.”
He bit me again, forcing his hand into my pants and wrapping it around my cock. His teeth and lips left a trail back up to my throat, my cock so damn hard that I was surprised it didn’t snap.
I hadn’t had a good fuck in what felt like forever, but he would definitely murder me when he woke up and realized what had happened.
“As much as I’m really liking where this is going, you need to stop,” I said more firmly, giving him a push to get him off me.
“Says who?” he muttered, closing his eyes and blindly reaching for me.
“Says sober you,” I deadpanned, prying myself away from him to tuck him in properly. “If you wake up in the morning and still want to jump on me, feel free.”
“You’re an asshole,” he said quietly, already starting to drift off to sleep.
“Yeah, I know,” I replied, watching him for a few minutes like a creep before leaving the room to grab him some water, ibuprofen, and a bucket. Skeeter wasn't usually a messy drunk, but there was a first time for everything.
I placed them on the bedside table and the bucket on the floor, hesitating before reaching out to run my fingers through his hair again. He was the most attractive man I’d ever met, and it was really fucking hard to walk out of that room and not curl up with him.
As much as he wanted me in there now, things would change come morning, so I grabbed his weapons as I left the room and closed the door behind me, turning all the lights off on my way to bed.