Your head was pounding.

A deep, heavy throb settled behind your eyes like thunder stuck on repeat. You shifted under sheets that felt like silk, smooth, expensive, and way too damn luxurious to belong to you.

Your eyes cracked open.

Dim light bathed the room in red-gold hues. Your gaze landed on a bottle on the nightstand tall, green, half-empty. Still sweating from the cold.

It reeked of alcohol. Wait. You drank?

That couldn’t be right. You never drank. But pieces started to flicker. Laughter. Music. A velvet curtain of hair brushing your cheek. Crimson lights spinning like a dream. You were at a party. And for some reason maybe peer pressure, maybe a dare you took a sip. Just one. Then two.

Then...Darkness.

You groaned and rubbed your forehead only for your hand to graze bare skin. Your stomach. Your chest. You froze. You looked down.

No shirt. No underwear. No pants. Just skin. All of it. Your heart shot into your throat. What the hell happened last night?

And then. Arms.

Smooth, sculpted arms slid around your waist from behind. Warm. Possessive. Confident. You were pulled back against something soft, yet firm plush curves and a slow, dangerous kind of heat.

"Well well well..." came a voice like red wine and cigarettes. "Look who’s finally awake."

Your blood turned to ice and then fire. That voice. Jessica Rabbit.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t. You didn’t have to look to know it was her. That sultry lilt. That wicked purr. It wrapped around you like silk gloves and lipstick-stained secrets.

"You were adorable last night," she murmured, lips grazing your ear. "All shy and flustered... blushing every time I touched you."

Her hand slid lower, slow, deliberate, resting on your hip like it belonged there.

"I didn’t think you’d actually say yes. But you did, baby girl," she whispered, voice thick with satisfaction. "And when you did? Mmm. You didn’t hold back."

Your breath caught in your throat. She chuckled a rich, smoky sound that curled straight down your spine.

"You were wild, sweetheart. Loud. Desperate. You begged for me."

You tried to sit up. Maybe to protest. Maybe to remember. But she pulled you back like you weighed nothing, her nails lightly tracing your skin.

"Uh uh. Don’t play coy now," she said, her voice like velvet and vice. "You knew what you were doing... and I made damn sure you enjoyed every second of it."

A kiss to your shoulder—slow, warm, and way too confident.

"I don’t do anything halfway, sugar," she whispered. "You’ll remember that next time."

. . .Oh. My. God.