I'm All Yours, Mr. Billionaire (UNDER SERIOUS EDITING)

15: Drunken Minds Speak Sober Thoughts

15: Drunken Minds Speak Sober Thoughts

"Let's get drunk, make mistakes, and blame it on the alcohol... Only, the real mistakes are actually made when sober."

An hour into the party and Michael finally asked Valerita for a dance.

"Val?" Michael interjected in his husky, to die for, voice. Swaying romantically to the slow song along with her.

"Hmm?" Valerita faced him.

"I can't keep my eyes off you." He declared in a tantalising whisper.

A blush crept its way up Valerita's cheeks.

The song ended and Michael, distressed and confused, excused himself for a drink.

It didn't turn out to be 'a' drink, but numerous more than planned.

How could he do that to her? She was so innocent and naive and he's planned her heart break behind her back. What if she refuses to marry him? What if she decides to hate him for the rest of her life?

There are so many what ifs....

"Somebody has a plan to get wasted tonight."

Michael turned to face Jordan, who apparently had been invited to the party as well.

"What have you been doing?" Michael asked, trying to pass his snide comment for a conversation start.

"Well I have been cutting in to a dance, which you ended by dissapointing the beauty of the night."

A tinge of jealousy tapped into Michael. He downed his cup in one big gulp. Then he stalked off towards Valerita who was wisely mingling with the wives of some famous business moguls.

"Excuse me ladies. Might I borrow Ms. Monroy from you all?" And he gently ushered Valerita to the side as she excused herself as well.

"We're leaving." Michael stated sternly.

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

He scowled at her words, obviously expecting her to simply obey.

"Because I said so." He spat rudely.

Not wanting to make a scene, Valerita obliged and they made their way out the hall.

"Get in." Michael ordered pointing at the passenger seat.

"No way! I'm not getting into a car driven by a drunk and moody man. Where's the chauffeur?" Valerita complained.

"Off the hook. I can't make him stay so late."

"Oh. Then give me the keys."

"What?"

"Give me the keys Michael, I'll drive."

"No."

"Then I'm not coming." Valerita crossed her arms accross her chest.

"Fine." Michael muttered and tossed her the keys.

Valerita smiled in triumphant exultation and sat herself in the driver's seat.

"You missed your turn. Your penthouse is back there." Michael told her after a long while of silent driving.

Valerita kept mum, and minutes later she halted by Michael's place.

"You're drunk. I'll take you to bed." Valerita spoke calmly, and tried very hard not to face him when he said what he said next.

"I dream of that every night."

It was a struggle to take this drunk hottie up to his room, but a quarter of an hour later, Valerita finally had him tucked in. She took off his shoes and coat to make him feel more comfortable but he'd still have to wear his dress clothes to bed.

Valerita then decided to search for some aspirin, which Michael will probably need in the morning to soothe his massive hangover.

Michael's penthouse suite was a total bachelor pad. The look of it was so cool and sporting, with so many posters of famous, different sports leagues or teams. He even had this enormous trophee case in the hallway filled with numerous medals and cups. And a huge HD and 3D flat screen tv, accompanied with high-tech and the latest audios, probably for watching the big games with his guy friends.

His room, on the other hand, was extremely calm and collected. There was a large window on one side of the room with a breathtaking view of the city at night.

Valerita shut the curtains so the flashing city lights don't bother Michael's sleep. Then she made her way into the adjoining bath suite. His medical cabinet was fully stocked and she found the aspirin right away.

Then she brought a glass of water from the kitchen and the placed two on his bedside table.

She was just about done when Michael slightly moved and she heard the unmistakeable sound of his shirt tearing.

Oh gosh! He really isn't comfy in his attire. And he isn't going to be happy with a torn shirt in the morning.

Valerita took in a long breath and loosened his tie, then took it off. Then she popped open the first button on his shirt.... then the next.... and the next....

Then she decided that was enough, and turned to leave, just when Michael's hand suddenly shot up and wrapped around her wrist, resulting in her breath getting caught in her throat, and a jolt of electricity flowing through her arm and spreading to every inch of her body.

"Don't go." Michael mumbled, hoarsely.

She looked deep into his dark brown eyes and found hints of plead and desperation.

"I have to go now, Michael." Valerita muttered hesitantly in her angelic voice that sweetly wounded Michael's heart.

"You don't have to, you just want to." Michael sighed. "Am I really that bad, Val?"

Valerita spoke steadily. "You're not bad Mr. Cavill," she said. Michael hated the way she coldly uttered his name professionally. "But I don't find you very good either." She finished with a sharp intake of breath.

"What did I do to give you this impression of myself?"

"Nothing."

She turned away from him, but his grip on her wrist was quite tight. She wriggled, but to no avail.

"Can we start over, Val? I really like you." Michael slurred.

"You're drunk. We'll talk tomorrow."

"It's fine if you need time to think and all that, but-"

"No Michael. You've already called us a mistake. I can't.... And I have a date." She proclaimed.

"What?! Who?" Michael growled.

Valerita smiled slightly and said, "I have a date tomorrow night with Jordan. He asked me out at the party, and I said yes."

It was a big blow to Michael, but he remained calm.

I guess I'm too late....

AN

I know, I know. I took really long to update. But how about we try forgive and forget this time. :/ :)

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