Page 36 of Corrupted Pleasure

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I walked into my Hampton beach home to find four young women sprawled all over my living room floor. Eight bedrooms in this place and all four of them passed out in the living room that looked like a fucking hurricane swept through it or there was a wild fucking party that I just missed.

Bottles of whiskey, wine, and beer laid all around the floor along with pizza boxes and Starburst candy wrappers. Juliette wore a fucking bathrobe with goddamn starburst candy stuck to her hair. Wynter wore pajama shorts and a matching tank top with slices of pepperoni stuck to her clothes. Ivy had her face planted on top of the pizza.

What in the actual fuck was wrong with this generation?

They trashed my beach home. A slice of pizza was stuck to my goddamn ceiling and a whipped cream trail smeared my French windows overlooking a million dollar ocean view.

My eyes shifted to the fourth young woman. Davina.

She was hammered. No food smashed on her face or clothes, but her shirt was backwards, and she had odd socks on. The large writing on her shirt said FUCK ME. And then a finger pointing south. I imagined if she wore it right it’d point to her ass.

My dick instantly hardened at the image of her bent over and me taking her ass.Hmmmm.There’d be no objections here.

Even trashed, the woman was exquisite.

Her silky, ebony hair covered a part of her perfectly symmetrical face with a smattering of freckles across her nose. The thick, long black lashes threw a shadow over her cheeks. Her lush, pouty mouth was parted and her breaths fanned the silky strands off her face with each exhale. I stared at her for a moment, fascinated with the expression on her face. It was peaceful and relaxed.

Her back rested against the living room wall, her legs stretched out in front of her with her hands in her lap, holding a bottle. It took me a second until I realized it was my most expensive bottle of cognac.

I lowered to a kneeling position, and right at that moment, her eyelids fluttered open. Her gaze collided with mine. Gray with flecks of gold and brown. Last time I saw her, she was too far from me to notice them, but I could see them now. Along with her faint scent under all that alcohol.

Pineapples. She smelled like the sweetest pineapple.

“Heeeey,” she drawled, her eyes unfocused and her smile lazy. “Melting panties.”

I shook my head. Juliette and her friends drank way too goddamn much, even by Irish standards. And my friends and I could drink. Though I started to suspect we might not be able to compete with these four. At least not anymore.

“That’s my most expensive bottle,” I told her, tilting my chin towards it.

She lowered her eyes to the bottle in her hand and grinned drunkenly.

“Good taste,” she commended.

“I know.” Her eyes lingered on my mouth, then trailed down my body. The girl was hammered. Instantly, my groin objected to calling her a girl. She was a woman. A young woman but still a woman, and the most beautiful one at that.

“I’ll totally volunteer as tribute with you,” she slurred, her eyes locked on my groin area and my cock instantly responded. I was a forty-seven-year-old man, and the last thing I needed was temptation in the form of a barely turned twenty-one year old woman who was friends with my daughter.

Yet, I wanted her. Since I laid eyes on her, I have been fighting the temptation in the form of raven black hair and stormy gray eyes.

“Tribute?” I asked her, not understanding the reference.

“Yeah.” Obviously she wouldn’t elaborate. Her eyes closed for two heartbeats, then opened again.

“What happened here?” I questioned her.

“A paaarty,” she drawled, smiling stupidly. And still she looked beautiful. “A recovery. I dunno know.”

“How big of a party?” This place looked like a whole goddamn college attended.

“Four.” It couldn’t be. She had to be lying. Four women couldn’t do so much damage and drink so much alcohol.

Could they?

“That cognac cost over a hundred grand,” I reprimanded her.

“I-I’ll pay you back,” she muttered, shifting to lay down onto her side. “Tomorrow.”