Shame on Him

  “I’m so glad you could be here today, Lorelei, especially after everything that happened between us. It means so much to me.”

  I can tell he’s getting choked up. I don’t want him to have any regrets. This is his day and he should be ecstatic. A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and I quickly grab two glasses, handing one to Doug.

  “Now is not the time to be maudlin. Drink up and be happy.”

  We clink our glasses together. Doug takes a sip and I down my entire glass in three swallows. Setting my glass on the bar, I grab the arm of another waiter and snatch a second glass off of his tray.

  Doug’s jaw drops as I chug this one as well.

  “Lorelei Warner, are you going to get drunk tonight?” he asks with a laugh.

  I nod my head. “I was thinking about it. Gary’s cousin hasn’t left me alone the entire evening. I thought I told you not to seat him anywhere near me?”

  Doug laughs and has the decency to look guilty. “Sorry, darling. Gary was sure you and Niles would hit it off.”

  “Five minutes after he met me, he asked if I wanted to go out to his car and smoke pot. Then he told me I reminded him of his mother and immediately asked if we could make out.”

  Niles is the reason why I’ve had three glasses of champagne so far. Wait, no, make that five.

  Doug laughs again and pats me on the arm. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, Niles’s mother is stunning.”

  “It does NOT make me feel any better, thank you very much. You’re lucky this wedding is open bar,” I scold.

  “It’s about time you let loose. How is that new case you’re working on? I’m seething with jealousy that this is your life now. So exciting.”

  It makes me feel good to hear this from Doug. While it’s true that my parents have always adored him and he played the part of son-in-law to a T, he’s always had my back and been a good friend.

  “It’s hard work, but it’s exhilarating. I don’t know how close we are to figuring things out, but hopefully something will develop soon,” I tell him.

  “Gay men are never good at keeping secrets, so I’m sure Richard would have told someone something that will help you,” Doug says, looking away from me to wave and smile at a guest.

  “Wait, what? Richard was gay?”

  Doug turns back to me. “Well, that’s the rumor I heard from a few people. I myself always wondered about him. According to some people, he was the most homophobic man they’ve ever met. He doth protest too much . . .” Doug trails off.

  “Since you seem to be in the know, did you ever hear anything about Miles Harper being gay? You remember him, right? He went to school with us and is practicing law at my father’s old firm.”

  It’s a long shot, but who knows? I’m willing to try anything at this point. Maybe that’s the secret Miles was trying to blackmail Richard with—the fact that Richard was gay. Maybe the two of them were lovers. Could Miles have killed Richard in anger because Richard wouldn’t give him more?

  “Oh, I definitely remember him. If only it were true. That man is gorgeous. I haven’t heard anything, but I could ask around for you,” he tells me.

  “I’ve never seen such magnificent flower arrangements. I always knew Doug could do anything.”

  I whip my head around at the sound of my mother’s voice.

  “Mother, what are you doing here?” I turn to Doug. “What is she doing here?”

  Considering how adamant she was that the two of us should work things out and how she wouldn’t hear a word of it whenever I tried to explain about Doug being gay, her being at this wedding right now is nothing short of astonishing.

  “Doug invited me. I must say I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I’m having a wonderful time.”

  “Where’s Dad? Did he come with you?” I ask.

  Not that I want to see him, but he might be able to shed some light on why in the world my mother would ever step foot in a gay wedding celebration.

  “Your father is at home with . . . how do you say it? A stick up his ass. Actually, he’s been sleeping in the guest house since your visit,” she informs me.

  I’m stunned into silence. I don’t know if it’s the champagne or not, but my head is spinning.

  “Breathe, Lorelei,” Doug tells me with a laugh. “Your mother called and told me the three of you had a very unpleasant dinner a week ago. I gave her some advice on how to handle things, but I didn’t expect she’d go at it so wholeheartedly.”

  My mother smiles at me and grabs both of my hands. “Lorelei, I would just like to apologize for the way I’ve behaved. I realized after you left that you’re doing something I’ve always wanted to do—be my own person. I’m envious of you. So I told your father where to stick it and kicked him out of the house.”

  “Oh, my God!” I exclaim in shock.

  “Do you know I’ve never had an orgasm with your father? And I signed up for a pole-dancing class. You should go with me.”

  “Mom!” I scold in embarrassment, glancing around to make sure no one heard her.

  Doug is too busy laughing to care.

  It’s impossible for me to even try to say anything more. Turning away from her in a daze, I signal to the bartender. “Bourbon, straight up. And keep them coming.”

  I giggle softly to myself when the cab driver asks me where I’m going. Where am I going? My face feels tingly. I tell him to hold on for a second and pull my phone out of my purse.

  It takes me a few tries and a few more giggles to punch in the right number.

  Paige answers on the first ring. “Did you have a good time?”

  I snort in a very unladylike fashion and hiccup. “I had a FABULOUS time! My mother’s never had an orgasm!”

  I laugh so hard that my stomach hurts.

  “Oh, my God. You’re drunk! Why am I missing this?” Paige asks.

  “I feel funny. Everything is funny. I want to have sex with Dallas right now.”

  The cab driver stares at me through the rearview mirror and I wave to him.

  “Get your ass to his house PRONTO! Now is your chance. Remember what Kennedy said: liquid courage.”

  Right. Liquid courage. I have that in spaces. Or spades. Whatever.

  Blowing Paige a few kisses through the phone, I hang up and toss the phone in my clutch.

  “Take me to Dallas’s house!” I tell the driver excitedly.

  He throws his arm over the back of the seat and turns around. “Where does Dallas live?”

  I don’t know. Where DOES Dallas live?

  Pulling my purse onto my lap, I dig my phone out again and call him.

  “What are you doing calling me? I thought you had a wedding to go to?” Dallas answers. I can hear his smile through the phone and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Or maybe that’s the bourbon talking.

  “Where do you live?”

  He laughs. “Um, on Highland Street, why?”

  “Driver, take me to Highland Street!”

  The cab driver shakes his head and pulls the car away from the curb.

  “Lorelei, are you drunk dialing me?” Dallas asks in shock.

  “I can neither confirm nor deny this statement, Your Honor,” I tell him, dissolving into another fit of giggles. “My mother bought an orgasm. And my father’s never given her a pole dance.”

  Dallas barks out a laugh. “Wow. That must have been some wedding. How long before you get here?”

  “I don’t know. But make sure you’re not wearing any pants.”

  I end the call and let my head flop to the back of the seat.

  I must have dozed off because a few seconds later, I hear Dallas’s voice.

  “It’s okay; I’ve got her. Keep the change.”

  The back door opens and I sit up as Dallas leans into the car and pulls me out. I lose my footing on the curb when I step out and he wraps both of his arms around me and pulls me against him. He smells so good and he’s so warm. I snuggle my face into his chest and take a deep breath.


  He slams the door closed and the cab takes off. “Did you just sniff me?”

  I look up at his face and see that he’s smiling. “You smell yummy.”

  He laughs, walking me up the sidewalk, and leads me through his front door without saying another word. In my alcohol-addled brain, I wonder if I’ve made him angry for showing up drunk and uninvited. And sniffing him.

  He grabs my purse from my hand and tosses it onto the couch before turning to look at me. His eyes take me in from head to toe and he whistles.

  “Jesus, you’re beautiful. That dress . . . fuck me, that dress,” he says.

  My heart soars and my body heats up at his words.

  “Why are you still wearing pants?” I whisper, walking up to him and sliding my hands up his chest.

  He laughs, skimming the tips of his fingers over my cleavage. Goose bumps break out on my skin and I close my eyes.

  I quickly realize that was not a wise move. The room starts to spin and my stomach churns. I feel his lips on my neck and I quickly open my eyes, forcing the nausea back down.

  He kisses his way up the side of my neck and the tip of his tongue traces a small circle right behind my ear. I’m torn between the need I feel for him and the need to throw up. I’m not really sure right now which one is going to win.

  Dallas pulls his face away from the side of my neck and stares into my eyes. I try really hard to focus on him, but I’m not sure which “him” to look at. Right now I see three.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is not to strip you naked right now?” he whispers.

  “The dress has a zipper on the side—it’s not that hard,” I tell him.

  He chuckles and cups my face in his hands. “I’d prefer it if you were a little more coherent the first time I take you.”

  I want to tell him that’s the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me. I want to tell him that I’ve never ached for anyone as much as I do him. I want to tell him so many things and they’re all swirling around in my brain begging to be let out.

  But instead, I just pat my hand against his cheek.

  “I think I’m going to throw up.”

  He takes a step back and points down the hall. I cover my mouth and make a mad dash for the bathroom.

  Whoever thought getting drunk was a good idea should be shot.

  CHAPTER 16

  Rolling over with a sigh, I snuggle my body closer to the warmth in my bed. I slide my hand across smooth skin and briefly wonder if Kennedy shaved Snowball when I wasn’t looking. Slowly opening my eyes, I glance across the pillow and see Dallas smiling at me.

  “HOLY SHIT!”

  Scrambling away from him, I move to the edge of the bed and sit up, the action causing my brain to feel like it’s going to explode. Squinting my eyes to try and make the pain go away, I stare at his body, naked from the waist up. Looking down at myself quickly, I see that I have a T-shirt on.

  “Where’s my dress?”

  Dallas raises his arm and points to the corner of the room. My dress is draped over the back of the chair and my shoes are on the floor next to it.

  Oh, my God. Did we have sex? Why can’t I remember? And why does it feel like someone kicked me in the head?

  I reach my hand up and rest it on my forehead.

  “There’s aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand next to you,” he says casually as he pushes himself up to lean against the headboard.

  I hear his words, but I can’t process them. All I can do is stare at his naked chest and all of the ink on his arms. Unfortunately, my head is screaming at me to do something. I turn my gaze away from Dallas, and down the pills and the entire glass of water.

  Setting the glass back down, I find him staring at me. I’m sure I look super this morning. I drank so much I didn’t take my hair down or wash off my makeup. I probably look like a circus clown.

  “Did I . . . I mean, did we . . .” I trail off, pointing between the two of us.

  He laughs and shakes his head at me. “No. No, we did not. I’m going to make us some breakfast. I think I have an extra toothbrush and stuff in the bathroom if you want to shower.”

  He slides out of bed and I stare at his back while he pulls a pair of jeans on over his black boxer briefs. Thank God we didn’t have sex last night. That’s something I would like to remember.

  “Did you change my clothes for me?”

  If he saw me naked while I was completely obliterated, I will be mortified.

  “Don’t worry; I didn’t look. I pulled one of my T-shirts on over your dress and you did the rest yourself. I was going to let you sleep in here and crash on the couch, but with the amount of liquor you threw up in my toilet, I figured I’d better sleep next to you and make sure you didn’t die,” he tells me with a laugh as he walks from the room.

  Scratch that. I would have preferred his seeing me naked rather than everything else he had to witness. I don’t know whether to feel grateful that he took such good care of me and didn’t take advantage or a little miffed. It would have been nice to know he at least wanted to look. Liquid courage failed me in more ways than one.

  Dragging myself out of bed, I head to Dallas’s bathroom and take the hottest shower I can, scrubbing off last night’s makeup and drunken humiliation. When I get out, I see that Dallas left another one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for me to wear. I glance over at my dress in the corner and wonder if I should just slip that back on and leave so I don’t have to face him again.

  The smell of bacon and eggs permeates the room and my stomach growls. It would be rude to just leave now when he’s making me breakfast. And I guess I should be happy he didn’t take advantage of me in my inebriated state last night.

  Quickly slipping on the shirt and boxers before I change my mind, I run my fingers through my damp hair and make my way out into the kitchen. I pause in the doorway, watching the way the muscles in Dallas’s back move as he works around the kitchen, stirring food and pulling plates out of the cabinet.

  It takes everything in me not to walk up behind him and run my hands up his naked back to feel those muscles under my fingers.

  I clear my throat so I don’t startle him. He turns around with a spatula in his hand and pauses as he looks at me. I nervously pull at the hem of his shirt. It’s huge on me, but I’m still conscious of the fact that I’m not wearing a bra. I didn’t need one with the dress I wore to the wedding.

  “You look good in my clothes,” he says softly as he sets the spatula down on the counter and walks over to me.

  “Look, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have come over here like that. I never drink, especially not that much.”

  Dallas reaches up and runs his fingers through my hair.

  “What do you want, Lorelei?” he asks softly.

  I swallow and stare up at him. He’s looking at me imploringly, like he wants me to say something that will change everything. To admit what I’m feeling in the bright light of day without the haze of alcohol clouding my brain and my heart. I suddenly want more than anything to just let go; throw caution to the wind and not worry about the consequences. With a deep breath, I take the plunge.

  “You. I just want you.”

  A smile spreads across his face and he shrugs. “You already have me. If you want more, just take it.”

  Paige was right. He wants me to make the next move. Moving quickly before I lose my nerve, I reach down and grab the hem of his shirt I’m wearing, pulling it up and off my body. I toss it onto the kitchen floor and watch Dallas’s eyes darken with need as he stares at me. Sliding my fingers into the waistband of his boxers, I push them down my legs and step out of them.

  “Fuck, you are so beautiful,” he groans.

  I take a step toward him and run my hands up his chest. He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes. “Does this mean you don’t want breakfast first?”

  I slide one hand down the front of him and inch my fingers into the waistband of his jeans. I tug on them rou
ghly and haul him up against me.

  “Fuck breakfast,” I tell him with a smile.

  His lips are on mine immediately. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and his hands go to my ass, pulling me up off of the floor so I can wrap my legs around his hips. As his tongue swirls around mine, he walks me backward and then sets me down on top of the kitchen table.

  I reach between us and unsnap his jeans, helping him slide them and his boxers down his hips. While he’s busy taking them the rest of the way off, my hand wraps around his hard length and I slowly slide my hand from base to tip, over and over.

  He moans roughly into my mouth as he deepens the kiss. I clutch tightly onto handfuls of his hair as his palms skim up the inside of my thighs. My legs tighten around his hips and I continue working him over with my hand. My movements pause when I feel the tips of his fingers against my center. Pulling my mouth away from his, I moan softly when he slides his fingers through my wetness.

  “Jesus, you always feel amazing,” he mutters, resting his forehead against mine.

  I move my hand away from him and grab on to his shoulder for support. He slides one hand around to cup my ass and pull me closer to the edge of the table and at the same time, he plunges two fingers inside of me. I let out a gasp and he swallows my cries with his mouth. He touches me the same way he’s always kissed me—a delicious blend of rough and gentle. He knows exactly how and where to touch me and it’s like he instinctively knows what I’ve been missing all my adult life. I want to be taken. I want the mixture of pain and pleasure.

  He slides his thumb back and forth over my clit as his fingers move inside me. I thrust my hips against his hand as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. His mouth leaves mine and he makes a trail of kisses across my cheek and to the side of my neck. Just like the night before, the tip of his tongue traces a circle right behind my ear. His fingers move harder and faster against me and I cling tightly to him as my orgasm rushes through me.

  I whimper and moan through my release, clutching tightly to Dallas as he pulls every bit of pleasure out of my body.