Look After Us by Elena Matthews Read Free Book Online Page B

shouts, “I’m going to fucking kill you!” just as the words ‘finger fuck your pussy’ echoes around the club.
    Before we know it we’re all on our feet dancing along with them, hooting and hollering as he simulates a few more sex moves on Mia before eventually moving his attention to the other bachelorettes. Then his stare lands on me and dramatically shaking my head, I begin to back away, but he doesn’t stop until he’s standing in front of me, pouring even more baby oil on his chest. My eyes flicker at the glistening moisture dripping down his abs, and I just about lose all coherent thoughts when his pecs begin to dance. Through even more laughter—to the extent that my cheeks begin to burn—I clutch hold of Jo and push her in front of me. She seems to have no qualms pressing the palms of her hands onto his rock hard body. Alana also joins in with a handful of one-dollar bills and begins to stuff them under the waistband of his boxer shorts, giggling like a horny teenager.
    Suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed with the semi-naked firefighter, and desperately bursting for the ladies room after one too many cocktails, I head towards the toilets, but not before turning around and catching an eyeful of his bare thong-clad ass while Mia’s mom simulates sex from behind him.
    Giggling, I turn around and head towards the bathroom and while I wait in line, I text Ashton.
    Me: Riley gut Mia a stripped but be had nothing on your. The figure ute look is a hot, can guy get outfit?
    I press send, not realizing what it actually says. What I wanted to say was: Riley got Mia a stripper but he has nothing on you. The firefighter look is hot. Can you get an outfit?
    Yep. I’m drunk.
    As I move forward two more spaces towards a free cubicle, my phone vibrates in my hand. I look down, giggling when I see it’s a message from Ashton.
    Ashton: No idea what that says, but I sure as hell can’t wait to get your cute little drunken ass home so we can have hot drunken sex. ;)
    I don’t get a chance to text back as I stumble into the next available cubicle. I begin to count the seconds until I get to have hot drunken sex with my fiancé, who is way hotter than any stripper.
    Who needs a firefighter when I have my very own doctor?

IT’S 1:00 AM, AND the only noise you can hear is the sound of hushed giggles as we finally make it back to Ashton’s parents’ house, as Jo, Mia, and myself try to carry a half-comatose Alana into the house.
    God, she is smashed.
    I’d hate to imagine the bitch of a hangover she’ll have in the morning, especially since she’ll be getting everything ready for the wedding for the following day. The ceremony is taking place here in the beautiful gardens, so tomorrow it will be pretty much all systems go in terms of wedding mania.
    I’m still a little drunk, and towards the end of the night I swapped cocktails for water, so I’ve managed to sober up somewhat. That might have had something to do with Ashton’s promise to do filthy things to me …
    Once inside, we decide it’s probably best to lay Alana on the sofa instead of trying to carry her dead weight. She’s a little on the heavy side, and with the rest of us a little worse for wear the best thing for us to do is avoid the stairs completely. After a slight struggle of trying to get into the living room, we eventually lay her down. I begin looking for a blanket to cover Alana with, but Jo slurs, “Don’t bother with a blanket, it’s way too hot.”
    She’s right. It’s hot as hell and far too hot for a blanket or sheets. After placing a trashcan beside Alana just in case she decides to throw up during the night, we take our drunken selves upstairs, where Jo and Mia tell me how much they love me while they struggle to keep their balance as they navigate their way up each step in the dark. Once we’re safely upstairs, slurred goodnights are spoken and we go our separate ways.
    With my bag of bachelorette goodies in my hand I go to find