Chapter 1

Don't ask me how the hell it happened or how I got here.

I could blame it on the vodka I had last night.

I tried to think back on how I got to this situation. My head throbbed and I was exhausted.

Maybe it was the strobing light of the nightclub and the repetitive bass of the music that triggered some kind of chemical reaction in my brain causing me to go temporarily insane.

Or it was him… the way he walked up to me. “Is this taken?” With that smooth and sharp look.

Maybe it was my outfit(Note: Never let your gay best friend dress you for an evening outing). Allison had forced me to come with him.

He felt it'd be better after the whole incident with my ex and Jenna. I'd suspected he'd been cheating but with my best friend? Seeing them like that, I couldn't get my mind off the whole situation.

“Oh, who's that guy?” Allison said while using his hands as imaginary fans. “He's hot. I think he's checking me out… but hey! This night is all about making you feel better”. He said seeing me roll my eyes.

“Technically forcing me to come to a gay nightclub is your way of making me feel better? We could've gone any other place”. I said trying to adjust the now very uncomfortable wig.

“Loosen up. I want you to have fun. After the whole… mess” He paused not trying to remind me. “So I thought, ‘Why not try a different type of fun’ my type of fun.” He poured himself another glass.

“So taking your straight friend to a gay nightclub is ‘a different type’ of fun?” I said, giving him a big-eyed look.

“Yes. Now drink up bitch. Yasss!”

And then abandoned me the minute a guy approached him.

This was Allison's fault.

I was wearing a sequined black dress and the famous "Marilyn-styled wig" which he brought out, especially for me, God only knows why.

I looked like a crazy '60s aesthetic with a bad taste in wigs.

What are the chances of finding a straight guy at a gay nightclub... and possibly the only one? And to find such a ridiculously hot one who somehow knew my favorite drink and brought it for me all night long.

“Hmmm. Do I know you?” I said a bit tipsy from the drink I had. I felt his breath fanning my neck. “You should be more careful in this dress” He whispered and let his hand rest on my bare exposed shoulder skin. I looked at him in confusion. “Vodka cranberry right?” He asked. “Yeah,” I was confused. “Wait here”.

“Sorry, who are you?” I saw myself asking but I got no response. Few drinks and some small talk, we were on the dance floor.

He kissed me deeply and now he had me pinned underneath him in the backseat of his car.

I never did this.

The memories of last night started flooding through my mind accompanied by the huge banging that came with it.

Someone else was half naked and sweating and moaning and grabbing at his tattooed shoulders. Someone else was licking vodka cranberry cocktails and sweat off his chest and having the best sex of her life - Deliciously dirty sex, I might add - with possibly the hottest man that ever walked the planet.

How did this happen again?

He'd made me feel like the sexiest woman alive and that coupled with the fact that I didn't know his name and would never see him again - all that strong alcohol helped too. I saw all my inhibitions fly right out the back window of his car. I did and said things I didn't even know I was capable of. I told him how I wanted it, speaking and whispering in his ear. And he willingly gave it to me.

As well as several variations on the requested activity. The alcohol did its job.

And when it was all over, he laid on top of me, gasping for air and sweating beautiful glistening drops(Even his sweat was sexy).

It was easily the hottest experience of my entire life. But then he did something very odd, something that tipped me over the edge. He lifted his head and met with my eyes with such intensity that everything around me went silent and blurry.

He was looking at me like he knew me. Like he had met me before and he knew me.

My mouth opened and an almost inaudible whisper came out "Do I know you?"

He smiled at me. A naughty smile.

"Not yet". And then he kissed me.

No one had ever kissed me like that before.

It was the kind of kiss you could get lost in if you weren't careful. The kind of kiss shared by long-lost lovers.

But when some nosey drag queen Knocked on the car window and made loud oohing noises and one of them mimed a comic spanking gesture, I nearly died. “Uhhh, I need… to go”. Embarrassed, I flung the door open and ran, leaving my sex god shirtless and with his trousers still around his ankles. He held my wrist but I wiggled hand free.

“Wait! Please”. I heard him calling but was halfway across the parking lot, I, the girl that never does stuff like this(I reiterate)

I had to make an embarrassing run of shame across the now-crowded parking lot. I could feel every single dramatically drawn, raised eyebrow watching me as I went.

Before I could get far, I was stopped by a distinctly masculine whistle.

Sex god had no inhibitions.

He was now leaning against his car, zipping up his jeans and doing it completely shirtless with a very appreciative audience I might add. He lit a cigarette, inhaled, and let the smoke curl out of his mouth.

He was like an advert for cool. An advert for everything deplorable and Lascivious but downright flirty- sexy in a man. Who the hell was he?

It made me wonder and want to know more about this mysterious man.

I had to go

I climbed into my car and pulled out of the parking lot, allowing myself one last glance in his direction. The cigarette hung out of his mouth seductively; his wet sweaty hair clung to his face, he was leaning on the bonnet in such a way that he looked like a model from those x-rated Calvin Klein billboards.

As I sped away, he blew me a kiss and shouted the words

"I think I'm in love