*EDITING* I am editing the first part of my story before I continue to have everything make sense.
Every person is a puzzle, their pieces make up who they are. Some have all the pieces, some may not.
Two college students who have many missing piec...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I wake up to a pounding sensation in my head.
And a freight train running through the middle of my head - as Bruce Springsteen would say.
Good god just humming is hurting my head. When i try to get up to empty my bladder the stronghold of an arm keeps me down. I freak till I look behind me to see Ryker's peaceful face laying on my pillow.
Shit I really gotta go pee.
I try to pry his arm off me but nothing is working. Huffing, I decide waking him up is a better option than pissing on my sheets.
Twisting in his vice grip so i face him i start to gently shake his arm only getting him to stir.
"ryker..Ryker...." nothing. I shake his arm some more "RYKER..." and he slowly lifts his head and opens his eyes.
"Sweetheart.. What is it?" His morning voice is as godly as his body. Rough and deep from his sleep.
My cheeks aflame from his voice and the nickname alone.
"I need to go pee," I mumble.
Huffing he reluctantly releases me and I dash out of my room and into the washroom. Doing my business, before I leave I notice like six towels in the laundry hamper. Peering into the ajar closet door I see a load of laundry in the machine.
I don't remember doing laundry last night.
Actually I don't remember shit from last night.
Going back to my room I find Ryker laying on his stomach starfish style. His feet hang off my bed by at least 5-6 inches seeing he is ridiculously fucking tall.
Smiling, I sit back down next to him and run my hand up and down his back. He hums in content before sifting so quickly I don't have time to react before he is flipped around and I'm on top of him laying tightly to his chest.
Gasping at his reflexes he just smirks at me.
I'm fine till a wave of nausea and pounding hits me and I know he notices due to the colour I feel drain from my face.
He just smiles grimly and plants a kiss to my forehead before each of my temples, cheeks, nose then lips.
We lay there for a good while in silence staring at each other. I don't know how he's looking at me without disgust because I saw what i looked like when i went to the washroom.
Let's just say I looked worse than shit.
"What happened last night? I don't remember much after the shots of tequila so I for such do not recall you coming over." I am very confused and my memory is extremely blurry.
He just chuckles with a small blush at the memories of last night's events.
