Every Kiss by Tasha Ivey Read Free Book Online Page A

listen
to. A little .
    Even half-drunk, I still think I’d rather talk to a tree.
    “Why don’t we go outside and get some air? It’s getting
awfully loud and stuffy in here.”
    “Sure,” I say, swaying a little after standing too quickly.
    Jake hugs me against his side and chuckles. “Hang on,
gorgeous. I won’t let you fall.”
    Once we make it to the back door, I let go of him,
determined to walk on my own. If the damn ground would just be still long
enough for me to step on it, I’d be just fine. I finally make my way to a soft
spot in the grass and sit down. Okay, no, I didn’t exactly choose to sit here.
The ground chose that spot for me on its own, and my stupid body went down without
even asking my permission first.
    Damn, I’ve had too much to drink. And tomorrow is going to
hurt. Bad.
    “You okay?” Jake laughs at my less than graceful landing.
“Told you to hang on.”
    I lie down in the cool grass and stretch out. “I’m all good
now. It’s so quiet out here.” A gentle hand caresses my stomach, and I look
down at Jake’s fingertips circling my belly button. “That feels kinda nice.”
    “Yeah? How about this?” His hot mouth finds my neck, and the
gentle sucking under my earlobe gives me chills.
    “Mmm.”
    “And this?” His face appears in front of mine, and the soft
whisper of his lips trail along my cheek until they find my mouth, delivering a
toe-curling kiss.
    At least, I think it is. Once I have a second to process it,
all I can really register is the nauseating taste of beer coming from his
mouth. It’s truly vile and disgusting. I hate both the taste and smell of it. I
shove at him, trying to push him away, but he only kisses me more deeply, no
matter how much I bang on his chest with my fists. Then, when I grab onto his
shirt, he somehow takes it as an invitation for more.
    The sobering moment for me, though, is when his hand shoves
into the front of my pants. Without even thinking about it, I shove him back
with everything I have and rear back and pop him right in the eye with my tiny,
but effective fist.
    He flinches and falls over on his back, covering his eye
with one hand. “What the hell?!”
    “If you’re smart, you’ll leave before Shane or Wes comes
looking for you.” I start to walk away, but I can’t help but feeling a little
vindictive. I step over one leg and bend to face him, trying to maintain my
balance while my equilibrium plays on a merry-go-round. “Listen to me very
carefully . . .”
    “Get lost, bitch,” he spits out, still sprawled out on the ground,
holding his eye. But his focus quickly changes when I gently nudge him in the
balls with my foot. Okay, I straight up kicked him with the toe of my shoe, and
he’s damn lucky it wasn’t with my heel. He’s coughing, groaning, and gagging,
and you can call me sadistic if you want, but I can’t help but feel a little
satisfaction in that.
    “As I was saying, you might want to think twice about
forcing yourself on a woman again. Drunk or not, you never know when she might
kick your ass.”
    I walk—or stumble—back inside, kick my heels off at the
door, and head to the stairs. I’m pretty sure this party is over for me. I
barely manage to get over the doggie gate without falling on my face, but I
climb up the stairs fairly uneventfully. Since I’ve failed to be a good
watchdog, I peek under the bed in the master bedroom to make sure our bowl of
keys hasn’t been discovered, and while I’m already in the floor, I decide to
crawl the rest of the way to my room.
    I slide my hands and knees across the plush carpet of the
dim hallway, freezing when I hear a door open. I flounder for an explanation of
why I’m on the floor, and I watch a pair of familiar shoes leave Wes’ room.
    “I, uh, lost a contact.” I follow the shoes up to a
hideously short skirt. One that only a slut would wear. Allison.
    She sneers down at me, but then smiles sweetly when she
dangles some thin fabric from her hand.