“I’d like to fuck you … in the shower. We haven’t done … th-at.”

Focus, Viv!

How can his drunken words sound so seductive? I turn and realize he’s already doing it with his eyes. I’m fully clothed yet he’s undressed me. As he fumbles with the button and zipper to his jeans, I see evidence that his mind has done more than remove my clothes.

“Here.” I push his hands away from his pants and pull his shirt over his head then squat down to remove his boots and socks.

“Do you know … how many positions … I’ve had your body in … in my mind?”

I can’t hold in my laughter. The guy who’s a mute during sex is sharing all his uncensored thoughts with me. If only Maggie could hear my “gentleman” right now. I’m not sure whether I should just listen or if I should probe him for all his secrets, including what the hell is behind that locked door in the hall.

“My, my, Mr. Konrad, you sure are chatty tonight.” I tug his shorts and briefs down.

“I can think of other things…” he grabs my ass and yanks me against his naked body “…I’d rather be doing …” His eyes are heavy. “… with my mouth.”

“Yeah, well, as tempting as that sounds …” And, oh my, does it ever sound tempting. “… I think we should get you showered first.”

“Yes, we should.” He pushes me back and into the shower.

“Oli! My clothes!”

“Take them off.” He attacks my neck and gropes my breasts over my wet T-shirt. “Then bend over. I’m taking you from behind.”

Even in his drunken state he has the power to make my whole body blush. Oliver Konrad is one kinky bastard. I shove his hands away and push on his chest until he stumbles back landing on the corner seat of the large tile shower. “Just behave for a minute, will you?” I lather up my hands and wash his hair and then work my way down his body, making each move quick and to the point. I skim my hands down his legs.

“Did you forget something?” He smirks while grabbing my hand and moving it to his erection.

I shake my head and slide my soapy hand up the length of it just once then continue down his legs again.

“Oh sure, now you don’t want to stroke my dick. You only like it when we have an audience, huh?”

I smile feeling the giggles building again.

“You think this is funny?” He laughs which makes this whole conversation that much funnier.

“I think you’re an adorable drunk.” I take the handheld showerhead and rinse him off.

He grabs my hand and directs the showerhead to my crotch. “Do you do this to yourself at home? Do you like the way it vibrates your pussy?”

Hilarious! Oh my God, Oliver is going to have me peeing in the shower, and with my luck he’d roll around in it because right now nothing he could say or do would shock me. When he looks up at me, I raise an eyebrow because I wonder when he’s going to realize that the showerhead pressed against the crotch of my thick fabric shorts does nothing for me.

The locked door in the hall is high on my curiosity list, but before this truth serum wears off there’s one more thing for which I need an honest answer. I massage my fingernails along his scalp as he looks up at me.

“What did you really think of my back when I first showed you?”

He looks into my eyes and smiles. “I thought you were a gift, an apology from God.”

I stand corrected. He just shocked me.

I’m not sure what it is, but I know he just revealed a huge piece of his past to me. However, his puzzle is still too jumbled to figure out what any of it really means.

“I’m soaked.” I spray him in the face. “Let’s get out.” Shutting off the water, I wring out my hair then grab a towel.

“You’re such a cock tease today.” He shakes his head while struggling to his feet.

I shove the towel into his chest then grab one for myself. He doesn’t dry off. Instead, he wraps the towel around his head. I can honestly say I have never seen a guy do that. The water glistens against his skin and I feel my nipples strain against my lace bra and wet T-shirt. What do I find attractive in a guy? Oliver. His name is now synonymous with handsome, thoughtful, funny, and scorchingly sexy. He is the official litmus test for all other men.

He sways a bit then takes a few unsure steps past me. I check out his firm, bare ass and can’t help myself.

Smack!

He freezes, not even turning to look at me. “You. Did. Not. Just. Spank. Me.”

I open my mouth then close it. My face scrunches into a nervous grimace. “I … I didn’t spank you. I … just patted you on the butt.”

“You spanked me.”

“It was a playful … smack.”

“It was a spank.”

“A spank is bending someone over your knee and hitting their butt. This was a … I don’t know, sort of a … high five to your ass, like athletes do to each other.”

He turns and I see the devil in his eyes—wicked. As he steps closer, I look left then right to assess my situation and plan my escape route. I notice he’s still swaying a bit. His inebriated state should give me a slight advantage.

I fake right then go left into the bedroom toward the door. He rams into the wall at first then lunges for me as I round the corner.

Crash!

“Goddammit!”

I turn. “Oli! Oh shit, oh no …” He’s on the floor and there’s blood running down his face. “What happened?” I take the towel that’s fallen off his head and hold it to the gash next to his eye.

“I tripped and hit the fucking corner of the dresser!”

“It looks bad, I think you’re going to need stitches.”

“No shit!”

I don’t appreciate his attitude, but given the circumstances I let it slide.

“Uh … hold this to your head while I get you some clothes.” I run into his closet and grab the first things I see. Dressing drunk Oliver with my shaky hands, his lack of coordination, and blood freely flowing from his head proves to be a challenge.

I help him down the stairs. “I’m so very sorry, Oli.”

“Grab my keys.”

I help him out the door and down the stairs. He plods to the driver’s side.

“Oliver, you’re not driving.”

“Well, neither are you.”

I open the passenger door and dangle his key. “Yes, I am. Now get in!”

He collapses in the seat showing more coordination than I expected. The alcohol must be wearing off. I slip in the driver’s seat and fasten in.

“Ahh … you’re wet! My leather seats!”

I glare at him. “Really, Oli? You’re drunk with blood still running down your face, but you’re worried about your leather seats?” I pull out onto the street and he grips the arm rest with his free hand.

It’s possible I’ve been told that I drive like a maniac.

“Slow down!”

“Pipe down.”

“I’m serious.”

I speed up taking the corner much faster than I should.

“Jesus! Slow down!”

“Chill out, Oli. I got an A in Driver’s Ed.”

* * *

Oliver

Vivian is dangerous to my health. She should come with a huge warning label and a list of side effects. I thought all three of us were going to perish on the way to the hospital—her, me, and my car. Indie drivers look like Driving Miss Daisy compared to Vivian.

My drunken brain has tapered off to a light buzz, just enough to still feel a little punchy.

“I think eight stitches should do it.” The ER doctor finishes sewing my head back together. “How did this happen?”

“She spanked me while I was naked and then I fell into the corner of the dresser.”

The doctor smiles. He’s clearly amused by my comment. Vivian … not so much.

“Oh my God! I …” Her eyes bug out and her jaw plummets to the floor. “He’s kidding … that’s not what happened.”

As the saying goes, if looks could kill … yep, I’d be dead.

The doctor turns and grins at Vivian. “Is it raining out?”

She looks down at her wet clothes and grabs a few strands of her wet hair. “Um … no …”

“She couldn’t even wait to take her clothes off before jumping in the shower with me.”

Another fatal glare. “I’ll be in the waiting room!” She huffs.

“You’re not the son I imagined seeing in the ER.” My dad enters the room.

“Hey, how’d you know I was here?”

He steps closer and looks at my cut, shaking his head. “I’m listed as your emergency contact, and while this isn’t an emergency they made a professional courtesy call to me anyway. How’d this happen?”

The ER doctor grins. I’m sure he’s waiting to see if I give the same explanation to my dad.

“Too much to drink with Chance tonight. I face-planted into the corner of my dresser.”

“Don’t you think you’re too old to be spending your Monday nights at a bar?”

“Probably. What can I say … it’s been a rough day. You off?”

“Just got out of surgery, so yes, I’m heading home. Do you need a ride?”

“I have my car.” I ease off the table.

“You’re in no condition to be driving.”

I point toward the waiting room. “Vivian’s here.”

“Oh, come on. I’ll say hi before I leave.”

I follow him out realizing the upper hand I had ten minutes earlier is slipping fast.

“Vivian!”

She stands with a mix of a smile and grimace on her face. “Mr. Konrad.”

“Please, call me Hugh.” He hugs her which is very uncharacteristic for him. I get the feeling that if there were teams tonight he would be on Team Vivian.

He pulls back looking her over. “Is it raining out?”

She rolls her eyes then looks at me with her jaw clenched. “No, this is a side effect of taking care of your drunk son.” Her lips curl into a see-how-it-feels-to-be-thrown-under-the-bus smile.