Owed drinks and favors (Brett)

[CHEYENNE MCLEESTER]

Cheyenne was in higher spirits now than she was the afternoon she had met Brett. She was tense and cranky and his arrogance was overwhelming. Suffocating, even. She didn't like that in a man, unless she was the one doing the hitting on and it was mistaken for confidence, something Brett had an abundance of.

when he called and asked her for those drinks she promised, she obliged, but figured why not kill two birds with one stone? He was a detective, and she needed some free detective work. How convenient! She'd need to butter him up first, though, which meant getting him good and drunk and then taking him home. Once he was well fucked he would do anything she asked. Or at least that's how Cheyenne saw it. That's how most things went down when she needed favors filled.

She dressed the part. Thigh high leather brown boots she'd stolen from her baby sister, a too short, distressed, ripped denim skirt and a white, lacy tank top. It was slutty enough to keep him interested without being so over the top she would stand out in the bar. Her hair was curled lightly and pulled into a soft ponytail, and she applied light makeup, giving her a natural look.

She arrived at the bar ten minutes after their meeting time. She didn't want to seem too desperate or like she was looking forward to it too much. She liked to keep them waiting, but when she got there and saw him, it looked like he had just waltzed in himself. The picture of her father was tucked into her back pocket along with her ID and credit card.

"How's about that drink?" She asked, nudging him. "To thank you for getting me off the hook. Sorry I was being a bitch the other day. My boss has a tendency to put me in a lousy mood when he asks me to work weekends." She rolled her eyes, not bringing up the fact that he had been a total pain in the ass. It went without saying.

She gave a look around and saw Gavin was working. She bit her lip, not wanting him to serve her since she'd caused a scene the night before. "Let's sit in a booth!" She insisted, grabbing his arm and tugging him. "More intimate that way." She slid into the bench seat and gleamed across from him. She took a good look and realized he really was kind of hot. "You know, you're sort of sexy when you're not being a complete shit."

[brettdawson]

He was comfortably sitting at the bar, his beer was slowly receding under half-empty. He looked like he owned the place. As if he belonged here. Brett had gotten here a little bit after work to talk to Kit and Gavin. Kit was like an uncle to him, while Gavin was one of his best friends. Both of them could handle his arrogance with a smile or a punch. Good sports, them two. He had invited Cheyenne tonight so he could get his mind off of things. His life just seemed to get more complicated with every day that passed. What he needed was a night off from his life. He was going to fuck her.

After work he had changed into a nice fitting red v-neck, it squeezed his biceps just right and showed just glimpses of his pecks. His jeans were a slim fit, not skinny jeans of course, but good looking. They were dark, faded slightly. On his feet he wore a pair of Authentic Vans shoes, red and white. His hair spiked in his usual, soft way. Only a hint of gel was needed.

He had just finished his own beer when Kit ran by with another. He nodded and laughed at a comment he made just as he heard the door open. The blast of cool air followed suit. He glanced at his watch, ten minutes after their meeting time. Fashionably late. He smirked as he heard her voice. Her playful nudge made him meet her eyes. But only for a second. He quickly checked her out, unable to suppress his glance. That skirt was almost begging to be pulled off. He cleared his throat as she finished talking about her boss. He actually thought he was more annoying than her boss. Brett wondered why she left that part out. "Not a problem. You can make it up to me later." He nodded jokingly, leaving her to interpret that sentence any way she'd like.

He didn't complain when she dragged them to a booth. Her voice was oddly edgy as she suggested it... but he let it slide. He wasn't one to press into others' feelings. Brett raised a brow when she spoke next, "You know, you're sort of sexy when you're not being a complete shit." He laughed, so amused by her sass. He knew he was always sexy. She didn't have to remind him. Though it was sweet of her, he thought cockily. "Really now? You're pretty sexy yourself," he crossed his arms, smirking and checking her out once again, "even with that sass of yours." He thought about it for a second before nodding, "That might be a perk, actually." His sly smile pulled across his lips. "I always liked a fighter. I never back down from a challenge."

He had already tackled the first obstacle, actually getting her here. Brett thought he was ready to hit the home run. "Now... about that drink." If she was tipsy it would be easier, though.

[CHEYENNE MCLEESTER]

Cheyenne didn't like to go for guys who were drowning in their own arrogant confidence. She told herself it was annoying, but deep down she knew it was because they adored themselves so much they didn't really need her. They could watch themselves fucking air and still cum hard. She liked to be worshiped. Brett could never worship her.

"Really now? You're pretty sexy yourself, even with that sass of yours. That might be a perk, actually." She raised a brow at him, her own cocky little smirk on her lips. "I always liked a fighter. I never back down from a challenge."

Cheyenne was strong, but she wasn't stupid enough to think she could be a challenge to Brett, even with her heightened senses. He was still a man, and he was still buff as hell. "Oh, I plan to challenge you." She teased. He'd make him work for his prize, and she'd hold her pussy on a pedestal if she needed to. In the end this was about business, only he didn't know it yet.

"Drinks. Good idea." She waved her hand at a passing waitress who stopped. "A pitcher of Blue Moon." She knew the two of them could easily knock back a pitcher or three. When she left she looked back to Brett, that cocky smirk on his face and she could feel him undressing her with his eyes already. Cheyenne folded her arms on the table and leaned forward a little, making her cleavage larger and more visible to the prick across from her.

"So now that you got me here, buying you drinks, what do you plan on doing with me, officer?" She asked dubiously, smirking and raising a brow. "Aside from making sure I get home safely tonight." Her grin broadened, like she was keeping a secret.

[brettdawson]

She was being strangely cooperative... The Cheyenne he met at Dylan's Cafe was slightly on the bitchy side. Which he didn't mind. Like he said, he liked them feisty. She hated him then, and he didn't believe she was suddenly ready to hop on his dick just because work was over with... But who was he to argue? If she was going to pull through, then he was game. Brett wasn't going to turn down a night in bed with this girl. They would see if she put up a challenge. He was curious.

After her order, he saw her catch his gaze. He wasn't embarrassed, of course, but smirked more. Especially when she flaunted her chest. That was distracting... He forced himself to lock with her eyes as she spoke. The way she purred 'officer' was not too original, but he loved it. She was too amusing. "Oh you know, nothing much." Just then the waitress dropped off the pitcher and two glasses, when she left he continued, "I'm just going to make your wildest dreams come true." He said the entire sentence, save one word, with nonchalance, as if it was a proven fact. Which, to Brett, it was.

He poured them both out their first round. Lifting his glass towards her, Brett offered, "Cheers." After he downed a good portion, not even feeling the effects of his earlier glass. He was a heavyweight. Brett could hold just as much booze as Kit, on a good night. It would take a shit ton of alcohol to get him tipsy. With another glance at Chey, he wondered how much it would take to get her going. He figured she could hold enough to not be a lightweight.

He'd just have to wait and find out.

"How was your day off, by the way?" He knew what he would do with his free day. Work out. Brett had an adonis complex. And it showed, obviously. He resisted the urge to flex. Ever since his run-in with August, he's been trying to be less of an ass... So far, it hasn't gone too smoothly. "You're welcome." He winked, flashing his best smile.

[CHEYENNE MCLEESTER]

"I'm just going to make your wildest dreams come true." Did he have any idea how unattractive he became when he opened his mouth sometimes? One of Gods sexiest gifts to man kind, and he couldn't be bothered to perfect him by making him mute. The look on her face was a forced smile, trying not to let it show how vile he had become just by opening that sexy mouth, a mouth she could shut by using her own if she weren't momentarily so turned off. "Oh, I'm sure you will.." She said a little hesitantly, trying to sound like she meant it, but really, she did not. She was grateful for the arrival of their drinks and took a deep swig of her beer, draining a good third of her cup. She was thirsty.

"How was your day off, by the way?" Ah, the subject change. She was grateful for it and opened her mouth to speak when he interjected once more with his arrogant little "You're welcome." He could wink and smile all day and it wouldn't change how revolting he could be. It was such a contrast with him too considering his outer appearance.

Some women loved this sort of shit, she reminded herself. They ate it up like fresh gelato, but not Cheyenne, probably because she was the same way. Men adored to be talked to like this, or the men Chey sought out anyway.

"I went home and slept. Then, actually, I came here." She explained and sipped her beer again. She slipped her feet up on the bench beside him, reclining now. "This is my go to bar. I know the owner." She looked over at the bar, seeing Kit walking around. "We go way back I guess. I know a few of the 'tenders, too." A wry smile creased her lips as she looked back at Brett. "And thanks. I'd say I owe you one, but you're in the process of cashing that owed favor in now." She smirked and poked at her beer. "Drinks.. conversation.. maybe some dancing?" She raised a brow. "Can an over confident cop drop it like it's hot or do you have two left feet?"

[brettdawson]

Brett didn't come here too often but by the sound of it he should've seen her around here sometime. Guess that's how fate works. Kit was also a good friend, uncle really, of his. He noticed her feet and gave a little laugh. She did seem to be comfortable here. "And thanks. I'd say I owe you one, but you're in the process of cashing that owed favor in now." And later. He was sure he was getting some later. There wasn't a doubt in his mind, really. He interpreted that little smirk as flirting and showed one of his own.

When she mentioned dancing he shrugged, "I'm no Chris Brown but I'd say I can keep up. Even in this country music." He noticed that was probably the only least cocky thing he's said all night. Probably because with dancing, he didn't have to do too much. The girl usually took care of it, which he didn't mind at all. And he wasn't embarrassed to say that he knew his fair share of line dances, or that he watched Footloose. He believed most of those flying moves they did were some form of fighting.

As he talked his fingers traced her boots idly. Moving them in patterns before just barely grazing her bare legs. He soon after finished off his drink, debating pouring another if they were going dancing. He poured one more anyways, thinking they had some time. "These boots weren't just made for walkin' I assume?" Obviously they weren't just for show. Maybe a little, but he resisted glancing under the table. His fingers had stopped wandering as well, not needing to piss her off, and were back to grasping his beer. He took a long swig from it, downing a good portion.

"Well," he began, getting up from the booth with ease, "shall we?" His hand was politely offered to her, though his smirk was still strong. The booze hardly made a dent in him, he was still in control.

[CHEYENNE MCLEESTER]

"I'm no Chris Brown but I'd say I can keep up. Even in this country music."

She snorted and sipped her beer, eyeing him. She would have thought he would be all over the dancing thing. Chicks dug guys who could dance, and granted he probably didn't need to know how to dance to get a chick, she thought he would have been a pro. Or maybe he was a pro and just downplayed it as a set up so when they danced and he was amazing he could just wave it off as being average. It wouldn't surprise her at all. Brett definitely seemed the type to try and receive praise for nothing.

Her eyes stayed on him, feeling his fingers brush against her leg. Had she not wanted something from him she might have tried playing a little hard to get, but as it turned out a favor was in need so she sat there coolly, watching him as she felt his fingers graze over her skin. Sooner than she expected, he had pulled away and was pouring himself another glass.

"These boots weren't just made for walkin' I assume?" Yep. Brett just said that. She inwardly rolled her eyes. What dumb line! "I could think of a few good uses for them." She said wickedly, not all of which he would be interested in hearing, like how she could bring a man to his knees and cry like a girl. These boots were great for that.

"Well, shall we?" She raised a brow. Shall they what? Get out of there? Dance? Find a nice cozy corner? She didn't ask, but took his hand, sliding her feet to the ground and climbing out of the booth, letting Brett lead her.

He was pulling her onto the dance floor and she was a little glad because she needed one more drink, or maybe three to get to the point where she could try and jump his bones. Maybe if she focused on his body and not the things he said she could do it sooner rather than later.

The song currently playing ended and a familiar beat resounded through the bar and Chey felt herself get excited. She was a Luke Bryan fan! "Hey girl. Go on now. You know you've got everybody looking. Got a little boom in my big truck, Gonna open up the doors and turn it up, Gonna stomp my boots in the Georgia mud, Gonna watch you make me fall in love"

Naturally Chey took the lead. she was a leading kind of girl, and her body moved to the music, pressing close against Brett's. Her eyes moved to his, smiling sweetly as she moved. She liked dancing, liked seeing the look in men's eyes when she danced with them. She realized the nice thing about Brett, though, was that he would enjoy himself because he could let loose rather than just because she was paying attention to him. He could easily give her up for someone else. She was a conquest as men often were for her. Two alpha's together; it seemed the right ingredients for a perfect storm.

"Country girl, shake it for me girl, Shake it for me girl, shake it for me, Country girl, shake it for me girl, Shake it for me girl, shake it for me.." And she did shake it for him, turning herself around so her ass could press against his pelvis, her arms over her head and wrapping around his neck. She followed the beat of the song, genuinely enjoying herself as she let loose, deciding he wasn't so bad.. He was hot and he wasn't being as much of a pain in the ass as he had been the other day. Now to get him home..

[brettdawson]

"Hey girl. Go on now. You know you've got everybody looking. Got a little boom in my big truck, Gonna open up the doors and turn it up, Gonna stomp my boots in the Georgia mud, Gonna watch you make me fall in love"

He couldn't have asked for a better song to start out with. He didn't listen to country regularly, but this was a song he liked. Brett especially liked dancing to it. Chey took the lead, and he let her. He wanted her to. This was a song clearly made for her. He had no troubles moving to the song and her body. He found himself glancing down at her body and slowly gliding his gaze upwards to meet her gaze. That sweet smile was practically innocent, a clear contrast to how she moved. It gave him chills and his lips answered back with a sly smile of his own. He never missed a step, giving the suggestive moves as much as he received them.

He loved dancing for one simple, clear reason: it started the night in the right motion. Dancing always got him ready to go, put him in the mood. And the way Cheyenne was moving definitely put him in the right mood. When she turned he smirked. His hands then moved from her hips to the front of her body. As her arms wrapped around his neck, two of his fingers, from each hand, teasingly slid into the front of her skirt. It was smooth and would go unnoticed by anyone watching. His hands rested on the sides of her pelvis, helping her press as close as possible. He had plenty of dances in his life time and Chey was up there. He could definitely have fun with her, and he did. She knew what she was doing and he didn't have to walk her though stuff. He too let loose, allowing the music to rock their bodies. With her so close his cool breath hit her neck. He was tall, but she wasn't short. It seemed they fit perfectly.

When the song ended his hands slyly, sexually slid up her body to her wrists to untangle her from him. He then eagerly pulled her towards the bar. As soon as they got to the bar, he let her go. He motioned to the bartender he didn't know and asking for two double shots of the strongest shit they had. He knew he could handle it, and had a feeling she could too. "I figured we needed something a little stronger." He shrugged and smirked nonchalantly. "If you don't want yours, I'll take it." He realized, mostly from her dancing, that she enjoyed being in charge. So, now he didn't assume anything for her. She was independent and that was alright, as long as she could find his bed. He knew this last drink would get her mind at least a little fuzzed, even if she was a heavy weight. She was still a girl, and last he checked, there wasn't a girl that could out drink him. Not to be offensive towards women, just a fact he happened upon. "I'm up for another dance, or something better..." His gaze drifted from her face, to her body, then finally to the door. The question was in his cocky blue eyes. Did she want to fuck now or later?

[CHEYENNE MCLEESTER]

Cheyenne lost herself in the music and the way his hands moved over her body. She had to admit, he knew what he was doing. Of course it was because he was a complete man whore, but who was she to judge? She was a regular whore. there was no shame in her game, and apparently none in his either.

His fingers slid in her skirt and she smirked. He might be a cocky son of a bitch, but he was a hot one, and he was hers tonight. She decided to roll with it. Maybe she would be lucky and he just wouldn't talk much more, though he seemed on decent behavior tonight. She could think of a few ways to keep his tongue busy, though.

When the song ended and another began, she felt him untangle her arms from his neck and pull her to the bar. She gave him a little smirk as he ordered a strong double shot for her. He obviously thought he could get her drunk so he could take advantage. Silly boy! She didn't think she could out drink him, but she could probably go head to head until near the end. Her tolerance was high, mostly because of what she was, but also because she'd been drinking since her teen years.

"I figured we needed something a little stronger. If you don't want yours, I'll take it." She raised a brow at him. "Oh baby, I can handle anything you can. Plus some."

"I'm up for another dance, or something better..." His gaze drifted from her face, down her body and then to the door making his intentions very clear; did she want to get this party started now or later? She decided she didn't want to put off the inevitable, and by they time they got to his place, she would be feeling this drink. Plus, he probably had something at his house. The shots came and she took hers, lifting it up. "Here's to you, here's to me, if by chance we disagree, fuck you, here's to me." She took it, swallowing twice to down all of the harsh liquid and then slammed the glass down, scrunching her face as the liquid burned all the way down her throat and into her belly. Nothing like the burn of a shot.

Cheyenne moved closer to Brett, her lips moving in towards his. "I'm interested in the better option.." She said softly against his lips, darting her tongue out slightly to lick his upper lip, making it clear he could take her home now if that was his plan. the night as young enough that she could get a couple of good quality hours out of him, if he could even last that long. She hoped with all his talk, he could. She needed a good, alpha male romp.

[brettdawson]

"Oh baby, I can handle anything you can. Plus some."

That made him laugh a little and shake his head. He had the small urge to put her little challenge to the test. He had a thing for challenges. But let it drop, his other urges too strong. That sounded like something he would say. Amusing. Was he rubbing off on her? Or was this her deep down inside? It didn't bother him, just amused him. Some guys would get turned on by this, but Brett knew he was on top of the situation. "Here's to you, here's to me, if by chance we disagree, fuck you, here's to me." He nodded as he too raised his glass. He downed the whole thing quickly, allowing it to drain down his throat. He exhaled slowly afterwards, feeling the harsh alcohol burn his throat. He loved the feeling.

He was about to order two more when he noticed her getting closer. His smirk was across his lips as she practically whispered against them. "I'm interested in the better option.." Her tongue lifted something in his jeans. He wondered just how useful that tongue could be... Two of his fingers of one hand secretly hooked the front of her skirt, tugging at it a little and pulling her closer. "Oh? That can be arranged." His lips met hers quickly in a hot preview of what was to come. He pulled away before he could get carried away, and removed his fingers. He dropped his money on the counter before leading her out of the the bar, arm around her waist. His smirk was stuck to his expression.

--Later--

He had her in a straddle, holding her up with one hand under her thigh and pressing her to the wall as he worked the lock. His lips were pressed to hers, they started making out as soon as the reached his condo. He lifted her up, finding it easier to carry her instead of lead her. As soon as the door was open he carried her inside. He didn't bother with the lights, his ears worked fine to navigate in the dark thanks to his therian abilities (plus he knew his own condo). He dropped her to the bed and pulled her shirt off immediately after. He hovered over her, his arms holding him above her easily. His lips grazed hers before beginning to run down her neck.

_______

You can powerplay if needed, also I stopped here cause I figured Chey's gonna butt in with her "Catch" for him lol

[CHEYENNE MCLEESTER]

Cheyenne was enjoying their trip home, and when they got back to Brett's place she was ready for him. He was much better company when his mouth was working against hers instead of running. Cockiness was only sexy on women, Cheyenne decided. Her legs wrapped around him as he pressed her to the wall, her breathing quick and shallow as she kissed him, feeling the pressure building in his pants. She would have to fix that little problem, and soon.

In no time they were in and she was laying on her back, her shirt coming off. She had to admit it was nice being with a partner who was anxious and knew what he was doing. It was clear she was by far not his first lover, which turned her on some. He would know how to rock her world.

The girl moaned as his lips moved down her neck and she fiddled with his belt and then the button to his jeans. "I hope you're ready to get that owed favor.." She teased down towards his ear, her hand moving over the lump in his underwear. She let out a giggle and pulled her hand away and grabbed his face, bringing it back up to hers, and in a show of dominance she turned him over so she could be on top, showing him she was stronger than she appeared to be.

The girl straddled his lap, feeling his erection and leaned down, kissing her conquest briefly. "Before we begin, I thought maybe I could up the ante a bit." She said, lifting herself up a little so she could grab the hem of his shirt and help him wriggle free of it. "You see, all you did was get me out of work, which deserved a few drinks and a night out, but this.." She said, cocking her head to the side, "Now, I think you're going to have to help me just a little more to get this.." Her hand slid into her skirt and her underwear as she touched herself for his viewing pleasure, not that he could see much, but it was clear what was happening. She leaned down and nipped at his bottom lip, scooting back so she could feel his bulge against her sex. She reached behind her and pulled something from the back pocket of her denim skirt. "Do you think maybe you might be able to do some detective work for me?" she asked innocently, raising a brow as she held the photograph in her hand, not wanting to show him just that second. "Say yes...and you can stick it anywhere.."

[brettdawson]

He smirked against her neck with her little moan. He loved the noises girls made when he hit the right spot, made the right move. It was like praise to him. He inhaled sharply as her hand ran over his bulge, his throat hummed softly afterwards, his lust only growing. It was almost torture for her to pull away with that giggle. Brett was startled at just how easily she rolled them over. That was plain hot.

Her straddle kept him content enough to listen to her, "Before we begin, I thought maybe I could up the ante a bit."

His brow raised, a bit confused, before he allowed her to pull his shirt off as well. It was only fair of course. He didn't mind in the least, he knew he was ripped. As she explained her reasoning, his hands wandered. He felt up her legs, fingers barely grazing her inner thighs now. His fingers brushed her underwear lightly, teasingly, before running back down. He continued this until she started touching herself. His hands clenched her thighs in disbelief, if he was horny before, his level skyrocketed now. "Fuckkk," he breathed, "girl you're killing me here... Go on." His smirk was back when she nipped at his lip, his grip loosening in the process. He grunted in pleasure when she slid back onto his member, the tease was only making him want her more. He was ready to just do whatever she needed and get on with the night.

"Say yes...and you can stick it anywhere.."

He chuckled in arrogance, this girl was too much. "Using me for more than just a good night? Alright, fine, I'll do it." Who did she want to find anyway? Some guy who left her on a one night stand? He didn't know and didn't care, he just wanted in her pants... or skirt. His fingers slowly started unbuttoning her skirt, tugging at it lightly. His free hand slipped under it, two fingers sliding in her underwear. He was anxious, he wanted to see just how well she could handle him. Brett needed to get this business out of the way fast. He eyed the photograph before reaching for it, "Who are you looking for?" He snatched it quickly from her hand and brought it to his face after turning it around.

He stared at it for a moment, squinting to see the details of the person. Male, an old picture according to the clothing. His face was oddly familiar. If he didn't know better he'd say it was a young version of his dad. He froze at that thought. "Is this a joke?" His voice was confused, his face twisted into a grimace. Both hands now held the picture, his jaw slack and his mind whirling.

"Why are you looking for my father?"

[CHEYENNE MCLEESTER]

"Using me for more than just a good night? Alright, fine, I'll do it." She smiled deviously, excited that he would help her, and as promised she would submit to his every sexual desire tonight. Hunting a man down just by an old photo couldn't be easy, but she knew she could easily keep his interest with the promise of sex. He was a horny guy, and fortunately, she was a horny girl.

She lifted her body a little when he began to pull her skirt down, helping him get it down, but before he got to her underwear he had the picture in his hand. "Who are you looking for?" He asked, looking at the picture. Her lips made their way down his chest, nipping and kissing. He took good care of himself, and she appreciate it. She was about to answer but he tensed, which confused Chey. "Is this a joke?" His voice was confused, his face twisted into a grimace. Both hands now held the picture, his jaw slack. She was confused. Why would this be a joke? She was serious.

"Why are you looking for my father?"

Now it was her turn to freeze. Cheyenne stared at Brett, her mouth going slack. His WHAT?! "Oh my God.." She whispered shutting her eyes and shaking her head. "Oh...my God!" no, no, No, No, NO, NO!! This was NOT happening! The pieces linked together in her mind; similar personality, same wild streak, identical eyes and hair...

"I think I'm going to be sick." She said hoarsely as she realized she was practically naked on a man that could potentially be her brother. Her BROTHER! She couldn't get off him fast enough, practically falling over her half off skirt which made it difficult to stand.

"You know what? On second thought...fuck the favor. Fuck the...ugh." Where the hell was her shirt?! She didn't even want to know if he was her brother or not, the very thought he might be was enough to make her gag, and she did, grabbing something tall in his room for support. A dresser maybe? She didn't know, and she didn't care. "I'm just gonna go." She reached over and grabbed the photo and then her shirt, pulling it on as she stormed towards the door. She needed to get out of there pronto before she barfed all over everything!

[brettdawson]

Brett was still staring at the photo, not wanting to believe his thoughts. Why was she looking for his father? Was he an affair? Did he give her a dirty look on the bus? Was she stalking him? No he couldn't think that she was... she couldn't be... his... "Oh my God.." That confirmed it. He went absolutely still. Not a muscle moved. His mind was screaming at him to get her off. But he couldn't move. He was shocked into a frozen state, not able to comprehend what was going on at this moment. He didn't want to think, didn't want to move, didn't want to live at this moment. She was on top of him! They were going to... going to... "I think I'm going to be sick."

Him too. As soon as she was off of him, he rolled off the bed and dry heaved onto the floor. Nothing came up, this time. The picture was left on the bed while he was on his hands and knees. He could feel the alcohol burning in the back of his throat. He got to his feet, with the support of the wall. He couldn't speak or look at her. He kept his eyes away from her practically naked body. From his SISTER's practically naked body. He shuddered at the word. Brett was in denial. His head hit the wall harshly, and his eyes shut until he heard her leave.

With the slam of the door his disgusted feeling dropped and one of pure rage replaced it. He grabbed the nearest object, a lamp, and heaved it at the opposite wall. After coming out of the jack, it busted into a million little pieces. He upturned the night stand as well, throwing it into the hallway. How could that BASTARD MAKER do this. His father had hell to pay for. Either he cheated on his wife, or he dumped some poor lady with a baby for his wife. Or both. He didn't know what emotion to feel, rage or disgust. He shook his head before going straight to the bathroom. He needed a shower, immediately.