Mastermind was in no way a fun or a sexy game. But damn, we made it so. I was really proud of the rules I'd come up with, because it worked so much better than I'd even thought. If the guesser needed too many tries to figure out what the right combination was, most of the drink was gone by the time the other one had to finish it. But if, on the other hand, the guesser found the solution fast, then most of the drink was left for the other one to chug.

It became rapidly clear that I should have insisted on Lex taking four tequila shots, because I was still getting my ass kicked. Probably not wanting me to end up with my face over a toilet bowl, he took gigantic gulps, though, and I didn't have that much left to drink every time he guessed my combination in four to five attempts.

By the eighth round, we were both properly drunk, and guessing became nearly impossible. Shit, I could barely handle the little colored pins anymore without making them fall. At least we were having a lot of fun, laughing and struggling to keep up with ourselves.

Thankfully, a distraction came up, and I took it as providence. Pony came up in the playlist, a sensual and slow cover by Tender Games, and I just couldn't resist its call. On very unstable legs, I stood from the couch for the first time in a while, struggling to keep my balance. Fuck, I'd drank so much...

Standing before him, I swayed my hips in rhythm with the music, letting my body be in command, since my brain didn't seem to have much control over it, anyway.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his words dragging slightly on his tongue.

"This is a lap dance song."

After a few seconds of stupor, his attitude changed, and he adjusted his position, bracing himself for what would come next. I vaguely noticed he was pushing the table further away by pushing it with his foot, and heard a glass fall to the floor but not break. My entire focus was on the man sitting before me, and I became alive under the heated gaze he kept on me.

Carried away by the sensuality of the song, my hands fisted the skirt of my dress, and I lifted it slightly as I lowered, swaying my hips in a sexy way. That offered him a brief but clear view of my nakedness underneath the fabric, and he groaned like a dangerous predator. Just in case he hadn't had the time to see it was all waxed and pretty, with that perfect triangle of curls trimmed and precise, I granted him another glimpse, which lasted a little longer. I turned around, channeling an inner stripper I hadn't known I harbored in me, and gave him teasing peeks at my ass as well, still dancing with slow moves.

At that point, neither of us could probably realize if I was doing this well or not. I was honestly too far gone to care, and he seemed to like whatever I was doing very much. Before I even processed what I was doing, I ended up sitting on his lap, facing away from him, my ass pressed against his front. My hips rolled and writhed against him, my upper body pressed on his torso while my head was resting on his shoulder.

"You're so fucking hot," he grunted in my ear.

"And you're so hard already..."

Nested between each swell of my bottom, I could feel the strain of his growing erection. It felt amazing, and it ignited a keen desire to take it further, to finally cross that bridge. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, the tequila giving me the courage I'd been lacking until now, but I didn't dwell on it and voiced my desires.

"I want you to fuck me in the ass," I confessed, pressing myself harder against him, dying to know what it was like to have his shaft deeply planted into that part of me.

He had an arm around me, and its hold on me tightened as he groaned a curse. "Fuck, Andrea... You'll be my fucking death."

"Why? Don't you want to try my ass, baby?"

"You know how much I fucking do. But right now's not a good time."

"Why?" I whimpered, rolling my hips in a way that made him hiss.

"We're too drunk for this. I might hurt you, and none of us would even realize."

"But I like a little bit of pain." I tilted my head up, enough so I could gently nibble on his ear's lobe. We'd been using plugs lately, since we were having sex again, and I was back up to the Hemsworth size – the largest one we owned. For some reason, I'd been delaying taking it further, but tonight I wanted to. I longed to feel him there, thrusting in and out of me.

His arm kept its hold on me, locked around my waist, and his free hand traveled to my thigh, where it grazed up the tender skin, moving toward my needy flesh. He easily found his way to my clit, still precise despite all the Tequila Sunrises, and I moaned his name while my knees spread further, my hips still sensually undulating against him.

"You're not supposed to touch the dancers in this fine establishment, sir..."

"Are you sure you want me to remove my hand?" he asked as three of his fingers thrust their way inside of my drenched slit, making me release a shaky cry. "If you're still up for it tomorrow, I'll fuck you in the ass, Andrea. But for tonight, this will have to do. Will this be enough for you, freckles? Me fucking your cunt?"

"Aah... Maybe..."

He swallowed the rest of my sighs of pleasure with his mouth, and I kept writhing on his lap in rhythm with the music, while his fingers never stopped fucking me. Pony changed into Woman, by Emmit Fenn, and this one made me crave to dance, even though it didn't have much of an upbeat. We were having a girls' night, after all, and it wouldn't be complete until we'd spent some time on the dance floor.

Ripping myself away from him took every ounce of strength I possessed, but I eventually managed, dislodging his hand form between my legs. Once I was on my feet, I extended him an inviting hand. He took it, and I dragged him to the other end of the couch, where we'd have more room for this. As if he knew exactly what I wanted, he wrapped his arms around my waist as I hooked mine around his neck.

The way we danced was slow, but utterly dirty and filthy. Maybe my inebriated state was making it feel much more lascivious than it really was, but as we swayed together, with his erection pressed against my hip, his hands slipped under the dress to cup my ass, and me rubbing myself against his thigh shoved between my legs, it felt like foreplay more than it did dancing.

The moment was charged with sensual desires, and we both basked in it. For someone who didn't particularly enjoy dancing, he was doing amazingly well. But it made sense in a way. We were fucking with our clothes on more than we were dancing. Had we been out in some club, they surely would have thrown us out for indecent exposure.

We remained like this for a moment, several songs passed, and our intensity never wavered. Shit, this must have been a sin. It felt way too good not to be one.

I turned around in his embrace, pressing the ass he loved so much against his hard on, and he wrapped a solid arm around me again, keeping me close. His other hand had an idea of its own, and it made its way under the hem of my dress again, which had raised high on my thighs. As he toyed with my pussy, teasing my clit and shoving his fingers into me, I begged him for more, his name sounding like a prayer on my lips.

We'd never fucked drunk. I'd been tipsy a few times, but we'd never both been properly wasted. Something told me it would be spectacular.

I had a hand thrown back, clinging to his neck behind me, and I sent the right one between my legs, to guide his fingers, to press him to give me what I needed. Fuck, I wanted more than this. I wanted his cock buried inside of me.

Without thinking about it twice, I stepped away from him. Robbed of his support, I stumbled on my clumsy feet, but he kept me safe and prevented my fall by grabbing my hips. "Get on the couch," I ordered, sending him a glance charged with lust.

He didn't need to be told twice, and he let himself drop on the cushioned seat, clearly lacking his usual agility. By the time I straddled him, he was already working on opening his belt, impatiently fighting with it. I came to his aid, and we fumbled together to open his button and zipper. As soon as his pants were open, he pushed them down as I reached for his cock. Within a second of it being freed, I came forward and impaled myself on his rock-hard length.

"Ah, fuck... Yes..." I moaned. I wasted no time mounting him, pushing myself up and down on him. Everything I did felt gooey and distorted, but the pleasure I was feeling was very much true.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good," he grunted, his hands clutching the flesh of my hips.

"You too, baby... I love having your cock in me so much."

The music was still on, and I followed its pace, completely enraptured by the moment. This was fucking amazing. We needed to get shit-faced and fuck more often. He pushed my cleavage to the side, exposing my breasts to his sight, and his eyes remained glued on my nipples as I undulated on top of him, mesmerized by them.

Craving a kiss, I bent forward to get one. At the exact same time, he adjusted his position to sit straighter. The alcohol delayed that information, though, and by the time I realized I needed a new trajectory, it was too late.

My forehead brutally collided with the hard shape of his cheekbone, and pain crept past the intoxicated barrier of my mind to bloom where we'd crashed.

"Ah, fuck," he cursed, sending his hand to the left side of his face.

"Shit, are you okay, baby?"

"What just happened?"

"I'm sorry, I moved, and you moved, and... Are you okay? Let me see."

I gently pushed his hand away, looking for traces of injury. There was nothing visible, apart from a slight redness. Very carefully, I gave a soft kiss to the area I'd bumped into, my hands framing his face. "I'm so sorry, baby. Is it better?"

"Not really. Fuck, you have one solid forehead."

"I'm strong-headed in every sense of the term," I joked.

I gave him more sweet pecks, murmuring apologies in between each one. My hips slowly resumed their momentum, and I made up for head-butting him by distracting him with love-making. It worked wonders, and we were soon panting and grinding, chasing our climax, lost in a cloud of alcohol and lust.

It seemed I might fly up to the heavens, high on so many things at once. Everything became blurry as pleasure consumed me, burning me inside out. This was better than the girls' night I was used to. This was a taste of paradise. This was a hard drug. It was him. Under me, in me, around me...

My perfect man... My Lex.

• • •

The only thing that was familiar when I woke up was the warm and naked body pressed against my back. Other than that, I didn't recognize the mattress under me, the covers thrown on us, the splitting sensation hammering in my head. When I partially opened my eyes, my confusion deepened as I glimpsed at a room I'd never woken up in before.

Why the fuck were we in the living room?

Images of the evening we'd had flashed into my mind, and I remembered the cocktails, the game, the talks, the dancing... And then we'd fucked on the couch. Several times. We must have passed out on it at some point, after one of us had fetched the fluffy throw blanket.

The coffee table was messy with the things we'd used the evening before, food, drinks, and glasses, and there were pillows thrown on the floor, along with our clothes. We'd gotten a bit carried away, hadn't we? But damn, it had been a lot of fun.

I stretched as discreetly as I could, but it was still too much. Lex stirred behind me, his arm pulling me closer with a groan.

"Fuck, my head's killing me," he mumbled.

"Mine too. We're getting too old for this."

"I hope not. We need to have more of these wild evenings."

Delighted that he'd enjoyed the evening as much as I had, I wriggled my way around to face him. "Oh my God," I breathed out upon seeing his face.

It made him open his eyes, sleepy and confused. "What?"

"You have... Shit, you have a black eye," I explained, grazing the blueish bruise under his left eye.

"Really?"

"Yes. It must have been when I head-butted you. You look like you've been in a bar fight."

"With a petite Latina on a mission," he grumbled. I giggled, despite not trying to, and offered him a sheepish look.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, I've had worse." He kissed my forehead to reassure me, and then met my eyes again. "Although, if you're really sorry and want to make up for assaulting me with your hard as fuck skull, I have a couple of ideas."

"What is it?"

"A coffee, and an aspirin."

"I can do that, yes. Any other demands?"

"The coffee must be black, and the aspirin white."

"You idiot," I laughed, pecking him and pushing myself away, eager to make up for my brutal clumsiness.

He didn't allow me to move away, though, keeping his muscular arm around me. "Not right now. I'm enjoying this too much. We cuddle for a moment, and then you can move on with your mission."

"I can do that as well, yes."

I came closer, maneuvering under the cover, until we touched everywhere, my cheek resting on his shoulder, his chin poking the top of my head.

"Thank you for having that evening with me," I said, full of love and tenderness for him. "I really appreciate that you went out of your way to distract me, to give me some of what I was missing. It really means so much."

"You're welcome, my love. Maybe I'll come along to some of your evenings out when we go back to Seattle."

It was the first time he was really referring to going back, to returning to our lives, and it gave me a great sense of hope.

"You might be disappointed," I started. "I love them and we have loads of fun, but it's nothing like the time we had last night."

"Alright then, if you even want to end those evenings with two straight hours of drunken sex again, I'm your guy."

"Of course you are. Who else would be willing to take the risk of being disfigured by drunk me?"

He laughed, but it turned into a grimace of pain, probably from his headache. I gave his torso a sympathy kiss and wriggled closer to him, loving this little cocoon we were in.

For now, he was still enough. As long as I got to have daily talks with my friends and family on the phone, he might be enough. Now that I'd healed, we would need to consider going back home to face our issues headfirst, though. But I wasn't that eager to step back into potential danger. Not when things were so amazing here.

Who in their right mind would leave paradise to risk hell instead?