- 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐂𝐄 | ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕

"Where the hell is my shoes?" I muttered to myself.

I vividly remember my heels being on when I got in here. They weren't in the closet— I don't know how it would even get there, and they weren't downstairs either. Shit, it's already bad enough I have to do the walk of shame back to my hotel, but now I got to do it barefoot too?

Maybe it's under the bed!

I looked over to see if the guy was still sleeping before quickly dropping to the floor with my phone flashlight in my hand.

"How the hell my shoes reach under here?" I whispered crawling further underneath. I grabbed my shoe and pushed myself back out with a struggle. There's no way I should be this out of breath when I was flipping and turning like I was a damn contortionist last night.

"What's the hurry?" I heard someone say.

I lowered my head and covered my mouth, trying to act like I wasn't there. "You know I could still see your hair right?" He said amused.

I rolled my eyes and got up with a huff. "I don't know how you guys roll over here but usually in America you leave after you have sex with some random stranger." I said putting on my shoes.

He looked at me with a sly look on his face before throwing the sheet off of his body. He sat there staring at me, looking my body over with that same look that caused me to be here in the first place

"I don't know how you guys do it in America, but no man is going to let a woman walk the streets of Mexico at night." He said walking over to me.

"Can you put on some clothes?" I asked trying not to eye rape him.

He was fine as hell and he knew it.

"Why when you've seen it already?" He said looking down at me.

"Umm, I got to go," I said trying to turn around and leave but he pulled me into him.

A whimper involuntarily left my lips as my ass came into contact with his member. "Go downstairs to the garage and sit in the truck." He said kissing my shoulder before walking into his closet.

I took a deep breath to gather my horny thoughts as I made my way downstairs. There's no way he should be able to do that. He shouldn't have that type of power to have me reevaluating my decision on if I wanted to stay or go. He didn't pressure me into wanting to stay but yet, if he had asked again I would have folded and told him yes.

Fuck.

Once I got downstairs I finally took into account all of the damage we had caused. The wine bottle we were sipping on while we hastily took off our clothes was shattered, along with the vase he had pushed off of the table. The pictures that were on the floor was broken and the figurines were displaced.