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first.
    I stand from my crouch, and for the first time, I notice what she’s wearing.   A tight green camisole clings to her rounded breasts, her nipples showing slightly through the material.   I can’t take my eyes off of them.   If I were to lean forward just a few inches, I could pull one of those tight buds between my lips, and fuck me , do I want to.   After a few seconds pass, I realize that I’m just standing there like an asshole, staring at her tits while my cock presses harder and harder against my zipper.
    Reaching down, I readjust my dick and clear my throat.   “Done.”   My voice is husky with need, and I know she can hear it.   Looking back at her, I see that though she may have heard it, in her drunken haze she didn’t catch it.   She just sits there smiling, eyes half-closed, looking like she is about to pass the fuck out.
    “Babe?   You good?”
    She smiles a small wine-induced smile.   “Hmmm.   Sleepy.”
    There’s no way in hell she’s making it back to the couch tonight.   Shaking my head, I scoop her up once more and carry her out into the hallway.   Looking around, I see only one other open door.   Deciding that must be the bedroom, I turn and move in that direction.
    Her head rests on my shoulder, her hand on my chest, and her strawberry smell fills my nostrils, doing very little to tame my raging hard on.   The fact that the smell of fruit turns me on makes me question my own fucking sanity, but I know that it’s the smell of her that is causing the blood to rush straight to my dick.   This woman is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
    I’m just entering the bedroom when she lifts up slightly and buries her nose in my neck.   Her hand on my chest presses harder and starts to stroke across the muscles there.   “Mmm.   You smell good.   And your chest feels like iron.   Soft, sexy, iron.”
    Fuck.   I need to get the hell out of here.   Hurrying over to the bed, I gently place her on top, her head on the pillow.   “Get some sleep.   You’re gonna feel like shit in the mornin’.”
    Her sleepy smile grows, even with her eyes closed.   “Aww, Travis.   See.   You are nice.”
    Warmth washes over me.   What is it with this woman?   I wish she were right.   I wish I were nice, but I’m not — I’m a fucking monster.
    “Night, Laynie.”   My voice is harsh and angry sounding, but my heart is pounding rapidly in my chest.   This sweet woman is fucking with my head.
    Rolling to her side, she calls out, “Travis?”
    I pause in my retreat through the door.   “Yeah.”
    “Thank you for fixing my foot.”   Her words are slow and calculated, and I know she’s struggling to stay awake.   “You’re a … just … thanks.”  
    I stand in front of her watching her sweet face and wonder what the fuck to do now.   Her eyes fall closed, and her smile slowly fades.   She’s asleep.   Part of me knows that I need to leave.   I need to get away from her and never fucking come back.   I don’t know why I came in the first place.   I don’t want any type of relationship – with her or with anyone.   I could never trust her, and the thought of Laynie betraying me like everyone else has makes my fucking gut twist.
    But I do know why I came.   She was hurt – I couldn’t not come.   Just the thought of her hurting and alone was enough to make me hop on my bike and fly to her rescue, like a fucking pussy-whipped bitch.   Watching her now, I worry.
    What if she gets up in the night and hurts herself again?   She’s wasted.   I can’t leave her.   Shoulders slumped in defeat, I walk from her bedroom to the living room.   Dexter stands by the doorway, leash in his mouth, obviously needing to go outside.   The dog’s as crazy as his master.
    Running my hand down my face, I sigh heavily before taking the leash from the dog.   “All right, buddy.   Let’s go.”
    Clipping the leash onto his collar, I take the fucking dog out.
     

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