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UNDER MY SKIN
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three. hangover
Sam had been hungover before, many times. So many times that she had lost count over the last couple of years.
But that morning didn't seem so bad.
Her head ached, the light peeking in through the slit in the curtains made her eyes burn even if she hadn't opened them yet. She could feel the sore muscles from her ride throbbing just a little.
She had even felt the slightest bit nauseous, but none of that was a match for the strong arms that were wrapped around her. They were firm and solid and warm, pulling her into a perfect, solid, chest.
Her head was a little fuzzy, but she remembered. She remembered laughing as they stumbled through the gravel parking lot, across the highway, and towards the dinky motel.
It was a mess really, a hazard – as Sam had joked. Neither cared too much as they gripped at each other, more concerned about keeping their lips connected then they did about air. Or the lady they had nearly ran over when Tyler pushed the blonde against the wall of the motel, only then did he pull back to ask where her room was.
She remembered dragging him up the stairs, her hand wrapped around the front of his shirt – from the outside it may have looked like a kidnapping. But the smile on his face was the furthest thing scared.
She even remembered pinning him to the bed, her lips molding to his as she unbuttoned his shirt – his hands working at the buttons on her shirt.
And she remembered everything after she finally rid him of his clothes.
She snuggled into his chest, smiling but refusing to open her eyes. She wanted to stay there, wrapped in his arms, safe and warm, and for the first time in a while, not feeling like she was completely empty.
Tyler groaned a little, his arms tightening around her as he pressed a kiss to her blonde mess of curls, “mornin’, Sweetheart.”
Oh God. She thought his voice sounded so sexy in the morning, deep and so very drenched with sleep.
