Read Five Ways to Fall for Free Online

Biotechnology?”
    “Your dirty talk is going to make me lose control.” What the hell is he talking about?
    “Why’d you lie, Miss Marine Biologist from Seattle?” I can tell by his smile that he’s not angry, or even annoyed. Amused, if anything.
    Oh . . . I shrug. So he figured that much out. Doesn’t seem like he’s picked up on the fact that we’ve been using cast names from Charlie’s Angels all night. I’m actually surprised. I could see him being the type of twelve-year-old boy to jerk off to reruns of a young Farrah Fawcett. “I don’t know. I like to role-play.” Adding coyly, “Sometimes I like to play dress-up, too.” I actually fucking hate costumes, but judging by the spark of excitement in Ben’s eyes, his imagination is taking that and running to all kinds of filthy places.
    He’s fun to toy with.
    That’s exactly how I ended up here.
    That and too much tequila.
    He leans in. His lips—so contradictorily sweet next to that obnoxious mouth—land on the nape of my neck, eliciting an embarrassing groan out of me as I tip my head back and coil my arms around his head. It’s not Jared’s mouth, but it will work.
    The room is beginning to spin, but this feels so good that I force myself to ignore the revolutions as I lean farther into him. I continue to ignore them as his fingers slip under the hem of my tank top to pull it up and over my head. Tossing it aside, his hands quickly find and unfix the clasp to my bra.
    “Damn, I knew it.” He shifts back to get a good look at my bare chest as cool fingers graze the silver hoop through my left nipple. He gives it a skilled tug, just enough to elicit a gasp and a burn in my lower belly. With a devious smile, he murmurs, “What else you got?” He has my shorts and panties on the floor before I know what’s going on.
    “I thought there was no rush?” I mutter, grabbing Ben’s arm to stop myself from toppling over as I step out of them, a spike of nervousness jumping in me as I acknowledge that I’m completely naked in front of this fully clothed and fit man who works at a freaking strip club. I have a small waist and decent boobs, but the package comes with a tiny abdominal “bump” and an ass that’s a tad fuller than I would like.
    I hope he’s too drunk to notice.
    A frown mars Ben’s forehead as he peers down at my face. “You okay?”
    “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
    “Because your eyes just crossed. That’s usually not a good sign.” The crease deepens. “Are you sure you haven’t had too much to drink? Because I don’t like to—”
    I answer by grabbing the front of that red shirt and yanking him down into my mouth for what I hope is not a sloppy-drunk-girl kiss. But probably is. That seems to be all he needs, because his arms snake around my body to crush me against him. It may just be the alcohol but, damn, does this obnoxious bouncer have some skill. I hadn’t expected it. In truth, I thought he’d be the “no kissing on the lips” kind of guy. Now, though, I find myself mesmerized by him, letting my hands crawl all over his chest, ready to find out exactly how skilled he is.
    If only this spinning would stop.
    And this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach . . .
    Oh . . . no.
    Call it gut instinct, an ounce of good luck buried within a pit of bad, I don’t know . . . but I intuitively peel myself away from Ben’s lips a second before a night’s worth of margaritas rushes up my throat and shoots out of my mouth.
    All over the front of Ben’s red shirt.
    Oh my God .
    Did that just happen?
    I’m temporarily frozen, staring at the streaks of green-tinged sludge all over his body.
    “Oh, man . . .” Ben groans, the disgust plain in his tone.
    Yes, that just happened .
    I don’t even have to look at Ben’s face to know that all thoughts of getting laid have vanished from his mind. They’ve certainly abandoned mine, leaving me doused in an icky coat of mortification. That alone has