Free Chasin' Eight: Rough Riders, Book 12 by Lorelei James

were blurring together. Ava squinted at him. “Are you feeling the whisky at all? Or am I just a lightweight?”
    “I’m feelin’ it.”
    She tried really hard to concentrate on those tempting lips and smoky-blue bedroom eyes, but his handsome face kept swimming out of focus.
    “Ava? You okay?”
    Instead of admitting No, I am totally wasted , she offered him the charming smile she was known for. “Just thinking about the subject of lies.”
    “What about it?”
    “What’s the biggest lie you ever told?”
     
    That I’m not gonna sleep with you.
    Jesus. Where had that come from?
    The booze, probably.
    Ironic, they’d been talking about alcohol-fueled mistakes. No way would Chase let his whisky throw-down with her become an excuse to take her to bed.
    Besides, Ava Cooper, TV star, was out of his league. Way out. The rich girl bombshell wouldn’t have looked at him twice if they hadn’t accidentally ended up hiding out at the same place. Plus, her feminine pride and sexual self-esteem had taken a blow because of her asshole gay ex-boyfriend, so naturally she wanted to prove her sex appeal to a man. Any man. He just happened to be convenient.
    Chase didn’t like being convenient.
    “Hey, cowboy, are you ignoring me because I’m drunk?” Ava clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled.
    “I think we oughta call it a night, Hollywood.”
    “Fine by me.” She stood. Swayed. And would’ve hit the floor if Chase had slower reflexes.
    “Whoa, there. Not so fast.”
    She inhaled deeply. Exhaled gustily. “You know today when you said I smelled great? Well, I’ll bet you smell great all over too.” She nuzzled the side of his head.
    “Stop sniffing me. It tickles.”
    “Where else are you ticklish?”
    “My feet.”
    Ava frowned. “Lie. I’ll bet you’re most ticklish behind your balls. I bet I can prove it.”
    You’re on. Let’s test your theory right now.
    No. No. No. No.
    “Ah, Ava, we’re not playing the game anymore.”
    “Oh. Shoot. Everything is spinning anyway. I just really need to go to sleep now. Nighty night.” She started down the hallway, stripping clothes as she bounced from wall to wall like a slow-moving pinball.
    The seven—or was it eight?—shots hit him full force. The hallway became a tunnel-like funhouse mirror. Distorted. Sideways. He stretched his arms into a T and put one wobbly foot in front of the other.
    He had to stop and grip the doorframe leading to the bedroom when he saw Ava sprawled face first on the mattress. Would you lookit that. He might be drunk, but he wasn’t fuckin’ blind.
    The sweetest, tightest, most delectable ass he’d ever seen—and he’d seen more than his fair share of nice asses—just begging to be caressed. Kissed. Squeezing those perfectly round globes as he hiked her hips up and slid his cock inside her.
    As he took another step, he tripped over a shoe, or his own damn feet, and went skidding across the carpet. The room spun as he rolled to his back, blinking at the ceiling.
    The bed jiggled. Soft, fragrant strands of hair teased his chest and then an angel’s face was suspended above him.
    “Cowboy? You all right?”
    “Uh. Yeah.”
    “Do you need help getting up?”
    “No. I never need help getting it up. That’s my problem.” He laughed. Hard. No idea why because it wasn’t particularly funny, but Ava must’ve seen the humor because she busted a gut right along with him. After wiping the tears from his blurred vision, he mumbled, “I’m actually pretty comfy. I might just crash here tonight.”
    “No. Come up on the bed. There’s room.”
    Chase rolled to his knees. Clambered on the bed. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was Ava slurring, “Pillow fight!”

Chapter Six
    “What in the hell is goin’ on here?”
    Ava didn’t recognize the voice, the loud voice, reverberating in her skull like a jackhammer. She shifted on the mattress and felt the warm weight of something on her butt.
    Turning her head