The sheets felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Smooth as silk, but softer and warmer, almost begging her to envelop herself into them. She fell forward, burying herself into the white blankets and brought her knees up until she was kneeling, face first, in downward dog position. She was quite aware she was in an embarrassing condition- half drunk, and half asleep.
"I love these covers," she mumbled into the sheets. They smelled good, too, like a mixture of his sweat, laundry detergent, and cologne. Sleepily, she swayed her butt back and forth in the air rhythmically, too tired to care.
From behind, he was tempted to reach out and smack her on her ass, covered only by the stretched scarlet boyshorts. Immediately he mentally reprimanded himself and averted his eyes in guilt. He couldn't think of her in that way, especially in the drunken state she was in. Suddenly, she fell on her side and curled into a ball, ripping the sheets out and pulling them over her.
"Now I have to remake the bed," he scowled.
"Sorry," she slurred, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. He just frowned in response. Quickly, she shot out of bed and hurried to the bathroom door before hurling all over herself. His nose scrunched up in disgust as she looked down at herself in dismay. Unfortunately, this is when she began sobbing and howling loudly, tears smearing mascara down her face.
"Oh, shut up," he snapped, irritated at how childishly she was behaving. She was silent instantly, and looked up at him with her huge, innocent brown eyes.
"I'm sorry," she pouted, tears welling up in her eyes again.
"It's fine," he said drily. He looked down at the now soiled condition of her clothes and then looked up at the glass skylights, as if praying God would help him. "We need to get you in the shower."
"But I don't wanna take a-" she stopped abruptly as he shot her a stern look. "Okay."
He took her hand and led her to the bathroom, where he picked her up and sat her on the countertop as he turned to turn on the water. He adjusted the dials until hot water sprouted from the shower head. On the countertop, she frustratedly tried to yank her tight cocktail dress off to no avail. He grabbed her and set her down on the floor, where he took her hands away from the fabric.
"Here, let me help you," he said, grabbing the bottom of the dress and slipping it slowly up her legs. As he pulled it over her head, he saw she was wearing no bra, and blushed as he forced himself to avert his eyes, although he definitely noticed how sexy her breasts were. She seemed amused, even in her state. He turned away, dress in hand, and went to leave the bathroom.
"Get showered. I'll leave clothes in the bedroom for you when you're done."