What. The. Fuck.

My head is throbbing like it's been smashed with an anvil, and my memory is like the far away chalk board and I'm the nearsighted kid sitting in the back of the room without her glasses.

First, my mind goes to the worst. Was I drugged?

Then I see the bottle of tequila upturned and empty on the floor.

I take inventory. This is not my floor. Or my tequila. I am on a couch that is not mine either. I am still clothed in the jeans and off the shoulder sweater that I put on last night; only my boots are carelessly tossed aside by an unfamiliar door. There are 2 heavy arms secured across my stomach, holding me tight to a warm body.

I am tangled up in Patrick Verona.

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The light is blinding, turning the inside of my eyelids a bright orangey-red. I lie there, stiff as a board and unable to move.

This is not my house. Dark and regal wooden bookcases cover the walls and a green marble fireplace houses the remnants of a dying fire.

What the hell happened?

I squirm around a little, stopping short with a small gasp as he pulls me closer to his body. Only Patrick could make a death grip seem tender.

Thoughts catapult themselves through my head. Surprisingly, given my current situation, I am quite calm.

Aside form the feeling that a small creature died in my mouth, and that there must be someone in my head, hacking away at my brain with a pick-axe, I am ok.

And there's the fact that Patrick's strong arms are holding me to him, and I can smell him all over me.

I'm guessing that has some sort of calming affect on me.

Suddenly a groggy voice echoes in my ear. "Well. I really wish I knew how we ended up …here…."

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I don't move a muscle. "I'm not particularly sure." There are no words to describe how much I don't want him to be angry, or afraid.

I let out a little gasp as I feel his warm lips on my shoulder. They slowly find my way to my neck, kissing sucking, and licking all the way up to the corner of my mouth. All coherent thoughts have fled my mind, and my lungs are failing me. He purrs into my skin.

"Frankly…" I turn to face him, my features a mask of peril, excitement, and amour. He is smiling brilliantly, his eyes smoldering. I turn back around, resting my head gently on his chest as he wraps his fingers in my hair. "I don't think I really care."