Restless (Drunk Girl's Fantasies Short Story One) by Lily Evans Read Free Book Online Page B

serious.  “You need this.  You need to feel hot and special and wanted.”
    She is right.  This past year was kinda rough.  I take that back.  It was like someone had scraped my entire body with the highest grade sandpaper for months leaving me raw.  Catching my husband fucking some random chick in our bed was just the tip of the iceberg.  And when I say random, I mean random.  The fucking bastard had just met her at the convenience store down the street from our house before bringing her home to stick his dick in her on our bed. 
    I had mistakenly thought everything was great with us.  Boy was I ever wrong.  Turns out he’d been having random hookups from day one.  First thing I did was toss him out on his ass, change the locks, hire an attorney, and divorce his cheating ass.  That left me in my staid suburban two-story white stucco ‘dream’ house alone. 
    I know this little stunt is going to extremes, but when we sat down a few weeks back and got completely wasted in my cavernous, empty, vanilla living room we had all written down an outrageous deed or dare we would do if we could do anything in the world with no consequences and this is what I wrote down.  That’ll teach me to not drink so damn much and what do these chicas do?  They hold me to it no questions asked.  No arguments.  There is not a damn thing I can do about it now. 
    Now for the gorgeous lady in red.  Daredevil!
    My body freezes, a cold sweat breaks out over my upper lip and I begin to groan as I hear my name for the night being called over the loudspeaker.  Why the fuck am I doing this?  Because I need to feel empowered again, that’s why.
    Georgia hands me a shot of tequila and I down it quickly.  My eyes watering as it goes down fast. 
    “You go girl.”  Hailie slaps me on the back and Georgia puts her hand on my mid-back pushing me up the stairs.  Taking one more glance over my shoulders, I glare at them both. 
    Fuck.  Here goes nothing.
    Oh God!
    I stumble, barely catching myself as I sweep through the curtains on the beat of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me blaring though the loud speakers and stare out into a sea of shouting, smiling, drunk men with just a smattering of women in the crowd. 
    I stop, after taking a deep breath a mysterious smile spreads across my face.  None of these people know who I am.  I’ve got a mask and I’m hot, just as Hailie said.  Fuck ‘em.  Fuck every last one of ‘em.  
    Strutting out, I run my hands up and down my sides, running my tongue over my lips I instinctively spin.  With my back to the crowd, I look over my left shoulder and catch his eye and I want to run off the stage when his gaze rakes over my body from the top of my head down to the five inch heels covering my dainty feet and back up again only pausing briefly on my best asset, my tits.   Reluctantly he lifts his gaze back to my eyes while all the while removing what little bit of clothing I’m still wearing with his gorgeous piercing blue ones. 
    Fuck!   I thought I felt naked before.
    Perfection personified with a long-necked bottle of beer being held between two of his fingers. His long muscular legs stretched out in front of him in a somewhat deceptively casual pose.  He conveys a look about him that says he’s ready to strike.  His clear blue eyes spell out that he’s definitely not drunk but watching every move I make with intensity.
    What’s he doing here?
    What the fuck.
    Concentrate Ashley or you’re going to fall on your ass and that will just make matters a whole lot worse.
    Lifting my brow, I blow him a kiss.  He immediately lifts his hand and acts as if he’s catching it in his large manly palm.  Which is super cute and he’s more than cute.  He’s fucking hot.  Hot as sin right after going to confessional.  Strong jaw, full—please, please, please kiss me—lips, and two deep adorable dimples pop out as he winks at me.
    Damn! 
    My sex flushes as heat dampens my already