Distance

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Danica laughed. When had she gotten so drunk? Had I really been so involved with Jay on the ride home that I hadn't noticed her slurring words, stumbling, barely able to stand.

"There's nothing wrong with me." She slurred. Then she burst into giggles.
"You were a complete bitch to Jordan today. He didn't deserve that."
"He deserved it."

I shook my head in disgust.

"I can't talk to you when you're like this." I turned away, leaving her alone on the bed. But her hands reached out, grabbing me.
"Don't go!"
"You're drunk."
"You're hot."

She was a strong drunk. Somehow she managed to push me up against the wall and start kissing me. She ground her hips into mine and I groaned.

"You're...drunk." I gasped, trying to ignore how turned on I was.
"I don't care. We haven't fucked since I got out of the hospital."
"Danie..."
"Fuck me."

If you can't beat 'em...

I slammed her down on the bed, ignoring her squeals of delight in favor of kissing my way down her neck. I pulled her shirt roughly over her head, finding her lips somehow during the moment. She moaned as my fingers found their way into her jeans, her hips bucking.

And then she pulled away, dropped to her knees, and took me into her mouth.

I nearly collapsed on top of her. It had barely been two weeks since we'd fooled around, and I hadn't even noticed how much I'd missed it.

I ignored the little voice in the back of my head that whispered truths into my ear. It was easier to fuck and forget, rather than deal with the discordent emotions that rioted in my heart.