“I barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw my guts up into the toilet. I felt my hair being messed with, but I couldn’t summon up the will to turn and see what was going on. “What the hell are you doing?” I bit out, before another wave of nausea hit me. “Braiding your hair, boo,” Tristan said, his big hand stroking my back comfortingly. Even sick as a dog, I thought that was sweet. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m disgusting.” I punctuated that statement by further emp...tying out the contents of my stomach. “Don’t worry about me. You just let me know what I can do for you. You poor thing.” “Why don’t you ever get sick?” I whined at him between bouts of throwing up. “I weigh two twenty-five buck naked, sweetheart. I can handle a lot of alcohol.” Even nauseous and feeling disgusting, I took a moment to linger on an image of him naked. I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t at least curious. “That’s not fair,” I moaned.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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