Chapter Two

"This is not my job. This is not my job. This is not my job," Ms. Brooks muttered to herself as she staggered along the hall, trying to support a very very drunk Tennessee Cowboy. She cursed Roode for forcing her to grab a cab, come back here, and retrieve his buddy. She had refused several times, but he had insisted that, were James found dead of alcohol poisoning, she would be held responsible.

"Ya know," James slurred, nearly walking into a wall for the tenth time, "if ya weren't a chick, I'd fuck ya. Against the wall." He laughed drunkenly as she steered him away from another potential collision with said wall. "Ya'd be pretty hot if these," he had the audacity to grab one of her breasts, making her scowl, "were down there." James chuckled, removing the offending hand and gesturing nonsensically with it. "Big ones. Down there. Ha!"

"I hate men," Ms. Brooks muttered. "Especially big stupid drunk ones! God dammit." They had finally reached the waiting cab, and she shoved Storm into the back, climbing into the front seat herself. "As fast as you can go," she told the driver, who took off for Robert's apartment. Fortunately, it wasn't far, and soon she was handing James off to Robert.

"Thank you, Ms. Brooks." Robert put an arm around James to support the swaying cowboy. "I'll give you a bonus for tonight, alright?"

"Thank you," Ms. Brooks muttered, signaling the driver to go and wondering if Gail and Val would still be at the bar where she had left them.

Robert helped James up the stairs and into his flat, taking him right to the bedroom and letting him flop down on the bed. "Jesus Christ, are you drunk," Robert cursed, taking James' cowboy hat and setting it on a nearby chair. "You better stay awake for a while, try and sober up a bit."

"Ey, I'm fine." James wiggled out of his coat, tossing it onto the floor. He sat up, still possessing enough coordination to grab Robert and flip him down onto the mattress. "Wanna fuck?" he murmured, rolling himself on top of Robert and trying to kiss him.

"I don't do that," Robert stated harshly, pushing James off him.

"Ok." James attempted to unbutton his jeans, succeeding after several fumbled attempts. "You fuck me."

Robert stared at him, too tempted not to look as James slowly pushed his jeans down, managing to kick them off with his boots. "You're drunk," he stated, biting his lip when James cast off his shirt, leaving him stark naked.

James shrugged. He flopped onto his back, spreading his legs invitingly and rubbing his cock. "I get HORNY when I'm pissed," he mumbled, yelling the word. "Ya got any more booze?" He made a face, his eyes scanning the room.

"Not for you." Robert tried to get off the bed, but James grabbed him around the waist, holding him tight.

"Come on," he purred, sliding his hand up under Robert's shirt and stroking his stomach. "Ya know ya wanna." His hand moved down to grab Robert's cock through his pants. "Fuck me!"

"You're drunk!" Robert repeated, so tempted by the offer that he was on the verge of giving in anyway.

"I get fucked all the time drunk!" James slid Robert's shirt up, licking his side. "Fuck me, baby. Fuck me."

Robert took a ragged breath, then broke out of James' arms, casting his shirt off and pouncing on Storm, their kisses hot and rough as Robert settled on top of the cowboy.

Read Chapter Three of Bottom of the Bottle part of the Angels in the Storm series by GG Bailey