KILL SHOT

4. Seven.

I woke up in the fog, a solid headache thumping behind my eyeballs. I've never drank that much, I never allowed myself this state, my job needs me sharp and lucid.
I growl low in my chest, covering my eyes from the dim light of the shy morning light.

Staring at my wrist watch, waiting for the blur to leave my sight, I become aware of a sleeping form on top of me.
Nicky. That hilarious, drunk mermaid hasn't moved a toe since we heavily fall asleep... 4 little hours ago.

Damn, if only I could move, I'd kill the sneaky monkey playing drums with a hammer on my brain.

My hands are still laying on her lower back/ upper ass, which helps a little to soothe my headache. Those sumptuous cheeks would be perfect to squeeze, she's sleeping like a log, she won't mind...

I sneak my hands a little further, and reach out to take a handful of that gorgeous butt as a breakfast.
I'm immediately rewarded by my semi hard morning shaft turning into a serious boner. That's the exact moment my mermaid chooses to mewl and reset her waist straight on it.

Fuck, I woke up on the dickhead mode. Get rid of that embarrassing wooden stick before she feels it.
Easier said than done.

I force my brain to remember yesterday. The chick, the balcony, the disastrous first chat. The chick, the Champagne, the ice pack. The chick, the paintings, the couch. That chick, Nicky. I never laughed so hard. She's so precious.

Congrats, thinking of the purpose of my boner doesn't help to make it go. At all.

Change the subject Charlie, what could ruin your current mood?
Vlad. The Zek. Their ugly faces. Their honeymoon in Chicago. I'm glad they ousted me somehow.

I reach my arm out to grab my phone laying on the coffee table. Fuck, there's a booze cemetery there. Champagne, beers, red wine, whiskey... How the hell could we have downed so much?
We both took a quick nap after dropping down the couch, but woke up in the middle of the night to drink more. And laugh even more.

Nice, my headache is taking over my boner. Keep up the good job Charlie.
I check my phone. No missed call, no text. Fuck! It's like I didn't exist for them anymore. Now I'm pissed, great, the boner's gone.

"Morning handsome." She grumbles, her face still bury in my stomach.

"Morning lolipop." No idea where this comes from.

"Is your wife mad at you that you slept over?" She jokes, seeing me upset with my phone, her chin now resting on my belly.

"No. She said she left with your boyfriend. They're taking the kids and will settle in Barbados." I snap back.
Damn why the snap?

"Oh, oh, someone's grumpy." She states. "Where's that funny guy I spent the night with?"

I look down at her. She's resplendent. Eyes make up wasted and disheveled but still beautiful.

"He's gone to buy croissants at the bakery at the corner. He asked the asshole to look over you while you were asleep."

"How nice of him. He's cute, I can't wait till he's back. The asshole is hardly tolerable." She winks at and rolls from me to magically end up on her feet.
She waddles to the kitchen, shaking that stunning ass of hers under my nose.
The hardness is back. Wonderful.

"Yeah, I'm sorry for that. My hang over speaks for me. I drank way too much. We drank way too much, where's your headache?" I turn on the couch to face her.

She's making coffee, swaying her butt to whatever music playing in her head.

"I never had one. It seems my system can't deal with alcohol and just kicks it out while I'm sleeping.