Welcome to Sugartown by Carmen Jenner

I
smirk and take another swig.
    “ Nice try.
How about you give me the bottle—” she reaches out to take it but I
hold it above my head.
    “ How ‘bout
you get drunk with me, instead?”
    “ Give me the
bottle, Elijah, before I hurt you.” She’s serious, too. On any
other occasion I might have taken her up on that offer, but in my
current state I’ve probably got all the coordination of a newborn
baby, and no man wants to emasculate themselves in front of the
girl they have perm-a-wood for. I hand over the bottle and
surrender myself over to her care.
    “ Good boy,
now go and lie down.” I waggle my eyebrows and she gives me her
serious face before a laugh escapes. Even though my ears and nose
are full of crap and my hearing’s reduced by about 50 per cent, her
laugh is still the best fucking sound I’ve ever heard. “I made you
some soup with dry toast. I have tissues, cough medicine, throat
lozenges and every Fast and the
Furious movie ever released on
DVD.”
    “ Baby girl,
what are you doin’ with a guy like me?”
    “ The same
thing you’re doing with a girl like me.” My head is much too messy
to even begin trying to work that shit out, so I trudge back to bed
and watch her fine arse in those jeans instead.
    Within
minutes Ana is beside me, fluffing pillows and forcing medicine
down my throat that tastes far worse than vodka ever could. Then
she feeds me dry toast and the best chicken soup I’ve ever had—come
to think of it I can’t remember a time when I ever ate chicken soup
before this, but I’m sure even if I had, it was never this good.
She slips a DVD in the player when I’m done and settles into the
crook of my arm.
    About twenty
minutes in I remember she hasn’t eaten anything, and when I say as
much she replies, “I ate before I came.”
    I press my
lips into her hair, slide my arm a little higher up her waist and
whisper, “Say it again.”
    “ What?”
    “ Came.”
    She laughs
and I slide my hand up over her perfect tits and tilt her head up
to mine to kiss her. I know I shouldn’t, but she’s here watching
the ultimate guy movie with me and she made me chicken soup and
forced medicine down my throat—and yes, she took away the vodka but
that was probably for the best, too—and it occurs to me right then,
in my fever heady state, that I’ve never had anyone take care of me
before the way she does. And then it occurs to me that I could get
used to having her care for me.
    Too used to
it.
    My heart
pounds around my chest uncontrollably. Fuck, when did I become such a complete pussy?
    “ Oh my god,
you’re like some twisted little sex fiend when you’re sick.” She
sits up and climbs over me until she’s straddling my waist. I lift
her hips and seat her back down over my cock, which has been rock
hard since she curled up next to me.
    “ Darlin’,
nothing about me is little.”
    She lets out
a breathy laugh which is one part humour and all parts desire. “I
can see that.”
    She rocks
back and forth gently over me. I can feel the heat of her sweet,
hot pussy through her jeans and I sink my fingers into her
hipbones, but it isn’t enough. I tug at her jeans.
    “ Off,” I
grunt. “Everything off.”
    “ You’re kinda
bossy when you’re sick, too,” she teases. “I like it.”
    “ Yeah?”
    She bites her
bottom lip. “Yeah.”
    “ Then take
these damn clothes off and I’ll boss you around all you
like.”
    “ Yes, sir.”
She slips off the bed, careful not to take her eyes off me as she
undresses. Once her t-shirt is off I know why: her bra is
completely sheer. Seriously, there’s like the thinnest scrap of …
whatever the hell they make women’s underwear out of between her
full, beautiful tits and the world, and all I want to do is run my
mouth over the fabric and tear it with my teeth. She smiles like
she knows exactly what I’m thinking and slowly peels off her jeans,
revealing a matching see-through-as-fuck G-string that definitely
has a date with my