Almost Matched (Almost Bad Boys) (16 page)

“Please tell me where you are.” Wow, he’s… alarmed?
 

I sigh and say, “We are at the Blue Fin. Are you coming?” I try for flirtatious tone but I have a hard time controlling the slur.
 

“On my way. Stay where you are. Please.” He hangs up. Geez, chill out. Okay, okay. I’m staying here. I hiccup again.
 

Caroline wants to know if Colin’s coming. If not, she insists on taking me home right away.
 

I wave her off. “Why is everyone in such a pissy mood?” I shrug.
 

“I’m not.” Caroline mimics my shrug. “Something wrong with Colin?”

I lean the back of my head back against the booth and exhale slowly through my mouth, deflating my cheeks. “He’s freaked out, I think… I don’t know what got into him.”

“My guess is he doesn’t like you drunk, girlfriend. No more booze for you.” Caroline wipes her hands on a napkin with the Blue Fin’s logo on.
 

Twenty minutes later I see Colin walk decisively toward me. And he’s not happy. Crap.
 

FOURTEEN

“
Pleasure is nothing else but the intermission of pain.”

John Selden

 
“Hey, baby.” I try to wave to him, but my hand doesn’t quite obey me. “How did you get here so fast?”

He looks concerned. Wow, I’ve never seen him like this—almost… what? Scared? Damn. Do drunken girlfriends have this effect on him? I feel like giggling, but even in my inebriated state I know this wouldn’t be wise. So I press both of my hands to my mouth to stop from laughing.
 

“Hi Colin,” Caroline greets him.
 

“Caroline.” He nods to her, and then pins me down with his piercing stare. “How much did you have to drink?”

“What?” What difference does it make? My head pounds, and I just want to go home. “I think I want to go home now,” I say, although there is no conviction in my voice, so I clear my throat and try again, “yeah, I’m ready.”

“Let me call a cab.” Colin touches my hair, and his eyes get even sadder. He takes his cell out of his jacket pocket.
 

“Call me if you need anything,” Caroline whispers, grabbing my hand on the table.
 

“You know I would.” I grin stupidly. “Hey, don’t bring any strange man home,” I slur, and she coughs a short, humorless laugh.

She helps me stand up and hugs me, murmuring in my hair, “Show me just one that’s
not
strange.”

“You got that right,” I mumble, leaning on her for support. My head spins. Uoh, I detest this feeling.

Colin steadies me with his arm around my waist while finishing up the phone call. “Taxi will be here in a moment,” he tells me. His voice is too quiet. There is something even more weird than ever before going on with him.
 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Caroline asks.
 

“Yeah. Mr. Right over there,” I point to Colin, trying to make him smile with my comment, “is takin’ me home.” My slur is obnoxious even to my own ears.

Caroline nods. She didn’t drink much today, thank God. I’m wasted. I was in a good mood, but now I start worry about Colin. Again.
 

The ride back in the taxi is quiet. I hate that. I hate feeling as if we have nothing to talk about. It has never happened before with Colin. Something is definitely up with him tonight, more than ever. I don’t think I can push it out of my mind like I normally do. Dammit.
 

I look at him and I see double. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry.
 

“Are you okay?” He sounds concerned. His face is gloomy. Why is he
unhappy
? Because I had one-drink-too-many? Oh, come on, I will be sober soon, so what’s the big deal?
 

I lean over and put my head on his shoulder. I close my eyes, but my brain jumps onto some crazy merry-go-round, and I have to pry my eyelids open. I’m not feeling too well.
 

Colin puts his arm around me in that protective gesture that I love.
 

“Oh, Colin, don’t be upset with me,” I slur.
 

He kisses the top of my head. “Shhh. I’m taking you home. You need to go straight to bed.”

“Stay with me?” I lift my head off his shoulder to look at him, and I really don’t like what I see. Colin’s not saying anything, just clenching his jaw. I see regret mixed with gloom oozing back from his features. He’s so enraging! What the hell did I do to deserve this? “Colin?”

He closes his eyes and breaths deeply. When he opens them, I see something new—guilt? Resignation? Pain? Well, I still see double, so I can’t be sure how bad this is, but I can feel it too.
 

“Natalie… don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I whirl to face him. Oh, that was a mistake. The contents of my stomach threaten to surge upward, and I cover my mouth.

“Shit,” he hisses and grabs my chin.
 

I manage to keep it down, and I tilt my head back against the headrest. Colin touches my clammy forehead, and I welcome the feel of his cool fingers on my skin. The taxi stops, and the cabin light comes on. I assume we arrived at my apartment. Colin pays the driver and gets out. He walks around to open my door, and takes my purse from my hand. He picks me up like a child and carries me toward the building. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my cheek to his shoulder.
 

He smells so good—like a mixture of some manly cologne with light undertones of soap and his warm skin. I’m getting all mushy inside. If I start crying I would be the biggest dufus
ever. Ugh. Why am I feeling this way? I should be happy, not sappy. Maybe it’s the effect of alcohol? I don’t feel good at all.
 

“Colin,” I gasp. “I’m… not… doing well. I think… I need to barf.”

He puts me down, right by the door to the apartment building, and I pant, “Not here, for God’s sake. Take me upstairs. Please!”

Without a comment, Colin picks me up again and carries me to the elevator. When we finally get to my apartment door, he puts me down, holds me with my back against him, and takes the keys out from my purse. After locking the door behind us, he carries me to the bathroom. This is perfect timing.
 

I bend over the toilet. He wraps one arm around me and holds my hair up with his other hand. I retch uncontrollably and wheeze in-between the heaves.
 

“It’s okay.” I hear Colin’s soft voice. His hand is expertly splayed above my stomach, right below my breasts, with his thumb flat against my sternum. I’m thankful he’s not pressing any lower, or I would puke even more fervently. He definitely knows what he’s doing. I wonder if this comes from past experiences with intoxicated people. And then I scold myself for thinking stupid thoughts.
 

When I’m done and I just dry heave, Colin wipes my mouth with Kleenex.

“Better?” he sounds imperturbable.
 

I nod and sigh with relief. “Sorry,” I murmur.

I’m so tired. My eyes keep closing, and I’m not sure how long I will be able to fight this sudden fatigue. He puts toothpaste on my toothbrush and gives it to me. I mumble my thank-yous and obediently brush my teeth.
 

“I’m taking you to bed,” Colin says quietly.
 

He picks me up and carries me to my bedroom, where he tucks me under the covers. I close my eyes and immediately drift off.
 

I wake up and look at the clock. It’s six a.m. Slowly, the events of the night before come back to me. Hells on wheels, did I really get
that
drunk? What was wrong with me? One fight with Colin, and I run off to drown my problems in booze?
 

Colin walks in and sits on the bed close to me and handles me a glass of water. “Hey,” he says. He doesn’t smile.
 

“Hey,” I croak. “I’m so thirsty. Thank you,” I say, taking the glass from his hands and gulping water like a maniac. I set it on the bedside table.
 

“I will give you some Tylenol, but you need to eat first. I don’t want you to take it on an empty stomach.”

Eat? Is he crazy? I feel nauseous even thinking of food. “I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“Just a few crackers. I will be right back.” He gets up and goes to my kitchen.
 

He returns a moment later with a box of crackers. I moan and turn away from him. Colin sits down next to me and shakes the box. The crackers rattle inside, and I look at him from over my shoulder. He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. Then he takes one cracker from the box and dangles it in front of my nose. What am I a dog? But that makes me giggle. I take the cracker from him and start nibbling on it.
 

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” he whispers in my ear.
 

Another cracker appears in front of me and I eat that one too. Suddenly I feel hungry, so I eat more crackers and drink some water. Colin gives me three white Tylenol pills, and I swallow them without complaint.
 

“I will run you a bath,” he says.
 

Hmm, a bath. That sounds wonderful. “Thank you.” I grab his hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a pain in the butt.”

One corner of his mouth lifts in that sexy smile I love. Soon I hear the water running in my bathroom. Colin returns and takes me by the hand. He leads me out of the bedroom and toward the bath. He undresses me, and I step into the sudsy, warm water. Ahhhh. That feels marvelous.
 

Colin rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He dips a washcloth in the bath and squeezes some liquid soap onto it. I watch him in silence. He gently lifts my arm and washes it thoroughly then moves to my shoulder and neck.
 

This feels sensual but also protective. I feel so relaxed, that my eyes start to close, but I fight the drowsiness and concentrate on Colin. After he’s done washing my arms, neck, and face, he rubs some shampoo in my hair, and then rinses it, holding the shower wand in one hand and supporting me under my arms with the other. His white shirt is soaked and it sticks to his chest and abdominal. I can clearly see the outline of his lean body, and something deliciously warm stirs in the pit of my stomach. I smile at him weakly and whisper, “Thank you. I feel so much better.”

He stops what he’s doing and looks at me. A tiny smile dances in the corner of his lips but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I sigh.
 

“You’re not going to talk? Why were you upset with me?” I ask.
 

“I wasn’t really upset.” He slowly shakes his head from side to side.
 

“What then?” I lift my arms over my head when he starts lathering me again with the soapy washcloth.
 

Slowly, he moves the washcloth over my breasts, and my nipples contract. I gasp, and a tiny moan escapes me.
 

Colin doesn’t stop the delicious torture, and I’m not sure how much of this I can take. Between the remains of a headache, the exhaustion, and now the sexual arousal, my body screams in protest. Or maybe it eagerly claps in approval. I really don’t know.
 

I wrap my soapy arms around his neck and kiss his lips. He stiffens but only for a short moment, and then pecks me gently on the corner of my mouth. The washcloth travels from my breasts over my stomach and down to between my legs. The heat explodes in the sensitive area, and I inhale sharply.
 

The washcloth is gone, and I feel Colin’s long, slim fingers caressing me, torturing in the most exquisite ways. I urgently whisper his name over and over again. His mouth moves down my chest, trailing small kisses all the way to my left breast. His lips close around the nipple, and I feel his tongue dancing in circles over it. He bites gently, and I’m lost, forgetting our fight and his disappointment at finding me drunk last night. Nothing matters anymore. It’s only him and me, and the knowledge that I’m balancing on the brim of the most delicious orgasm.
 

Colin slips two fingers inside me and presses the heel of his hand over my clitoris. His fingers move in and out, making me whimper.