“I didn't bring men home and I definitely didn't get drunk. That's not to say that girls who do it are bad or wrong, it’s just not me. I'm Iris Carlton. I’m usually intelligent, dutiful, and boring; but, I wasn’t tonight. You see, about two months ago, I woke up in a hospital as a Jane Doe and I had no clue how I'd gotten there. This man, whose fingers trailed my body and left in its wake a burning desire for more, he was the key to what happened. I met him in a bar, drunk and frustrated. His ki...sses made me wet. I pulled him into my bedroom and he followed, willingly and just as hungry as I. His green eyes practically glowed with lust. Here was a tall drink of water with mussed, deep brown hair and pale skin; too pale to have grown up here in the south. He pulled me into him, burying his hands in my mass of curly hair and nipping at my neck. I melted. He pulled frantically at my clothes and I at his. I dragged his leather jacket off of his shoulders and pulled at his t-shirt, pausing only to let him pull off mine. His hands found my breasts, as I fumbled with his belt.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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