Chapter 3 - Grace Stewart

Grace POV

I open my eyes and immediately regret doing so. I flinch as the pain in my head strikes like a football to the head. “Oh God,” I murmur as I sit up on the bed and frown, taking in the room. I look around, not recognizing the furniture. 

The large black chest of drawers with a huge TV hanging on the wall above it, a navy blue arm chair on the corner with a round table with a modern design next to it. The walls are light and the bed is huge with fluffy white covers. I look down at my body and my eyes widen and I jump out of bed to find myself wearing clothes I have never seen before. 

I lift the band t-shirt I am wearing and immediately smack my forehead with my hand. Fuck. Fuckity fuck, what have I done? I look around, trying to find my clothes, but all I can see is the nicest bedroom I have ever seen. Oh shit. I look down again, not recognizing the clothes. It’s a black T-shirt and some black male boxer shorts. No. That can’t be true. 

Where the hell am I? I can’t believe I did this. I look around once more and find my shoes on the end of the bed. Good. Something familiar. I put the socks and shoes on and walk to the door on my tiptoes as if it would make a difference. I place my hand on the doorknob and open it slightly peeking out. The damn contact lenses are burning my eyes and making my vision blurry. 

I rub my eyes, and one of them pops off, falling on the ground. “Shit,” I hiss, falling on my hands and knees trying to find the fallen contact. I can’t see anything without it and only wearing one is impossible. Especially with this headache. As I move around in the same place, touching the carpeted floor, I see two feet standing in front of me. 

I stay still as if that would make me go invisible or something like that while I internally beat myself. How did I end up in a situation like this? In someone’s house that I can’t remember, wearing their clothes and on my hands and knees. 

I move my head up slightly as I look at the legs wearing a dark gray tracksuit. The pants are dangerously low because I can see the guy’s V that leads to his privates. I gulp as I see his strong, tanned, and veiny hands resting on his hips. I close my eyes for a couple of seconds before I look up and get knocked off of my feet by how stunning the man is. 

“I never thought I would see you on all fours for me this fast,” he says as he grins and I shake my head, trying to push away the embarrassment I am feeling right now. He offers me a hand and I take it helping me to get up. His other hand supports me on my elbow and I swear I can feel an electric shock moving up and down my arm after his touch. 

“How are you feeling sleeping beauty?” He asks and I offer him a small smile, not really knowing how to act right now. I thought after sex we were supposed to feel sore and everything ache. At least that’s what I read in my books, but I don’t feel like that. Sleeping beauty?

“Erm, okay?” I let out, and he raises one eyebrow and smiles. His smile is so wide and his teeth so white that I swear the man looks like he just came out of every girl’s wet dreams. 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He says and I look down at my hands as I fiddle with the bottom of the t-shirt and I can hear a soft groan. I look up to see that the guy’s smile disappeared and his hands are now curled into fists on his side. 

“Where am I?” I finally gather the courage to speak and he looks around and then at me. 

“My house,” he finally says and I nod, trying to gather my thoughts. It’s very difficult to think around a guy like him half-naked. His body is beautiful. He looks like he has been carved by the Greek Gods. His tattoos all around his body might tell a story, but I don’t want to stare. I really wish I had my glasses here. 

“Do you remember what happened last night, sleeping beauty?” He asks and I raise my head, staring into his beautiful blue eyes and I swear my stomach gains a life of its own as butterflies start moving and I feel that little cold. 

“I remember the party, dancing, my friends, and that is all,” I say, and he nods slightly, taking one step closer to me. His feet almost touching mine while his finger rests under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. To look into his plump lips and then to his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs, and then he smiles. 

“Good,” he finally says, and I am left more confused than before. “Your phone has been ringing non-stop, you might want to check it,” he says and I nod slightly as he pulls away and something inside of me dies with the distance between us. I have never felt anything like this before, especially with a guy. Yes, I feel attracted to guys, but never like this, never with this intensity.

“You must be hungry,” he says and I nod as I feel and hear my stomach growl in hunger. The guy laughs lightly and I follow him down the corridor, trying to take care of where I put my feet because I can’t see very well. 

He seems so carefree, walking around barefoot, without a shirt, like he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation. I sit on the breakfast bar as I watch him move around his kitchen, grabbing everything he needs to make us breakfast. 

“I hope you like bacon,” he says and I look down at my hands shifting uncomfortably in my seat. His eyes meet mine and I bite my lower lip slightly, trying to break the news I am a vegetarian. “You don’t like bacon?” He asks, his tone shocked and his eyes widen as he tries to read my body language. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s more that I don’t eat it, I am vegetarian,” I say, and the spoon he was holding falls with a loud noise on the counter and he shakes his head trying to get out of his shock. 

“You’re telling me you don’t eat meat by choice? What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks, and I am taken aback by his words. 

“Excuse me?” I let out as I stand up. His eyes follow my movement and I look around, ready to leave. This guy is unbelievable. Just because he got my V card, he thinks he can judge me? Besides, who in their right mind has sex with a drunk girl?

“I didn’t mean to judge, it’s just weird,” he says and I shake my head. Too late, my friend. 

“I have to go home, I think I have spent too much time with a guy I don’t even know the name of, who had sex with me while I was drunk, and is judging me for my life choices,” I say walking out of the kitchen. “Classy,” I whisper and suddenly I feel his hand on my wrist stopping me and spinning me around. 

My hands rest on his bare chest and I can’t stop myself from moving my fingers slightly touching his bare eight-pack. His finger rests under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. 

“I am not a rapist, I would never have sex with someone as drunk as you were, I like my girls very aware of what I am doing to them, how I am fucking them, if anything I got you out of a sticky situation, maybe you should thank me instead of accusing me of doing something I would never do,” his tone is serious, the playfulness of his tone disappearing. 

“I… I should go,” I say, trying to avoid his eyes, but again. His finger under my chin forces me to look up at him, and he offers me a small smile. He leads closer.. his lips inches away from me and I close my eyes, waiting for his lips to touch mine, but they don’t. 

“Dash,” he whispers and I open my eyes to see a bright smile on his face while his thumb caresses my cheek. “My name is Dash.”