I groaned when a flicker of orange wafted through the open curtains. Oh my head! I could have sworn a rabid caveman had invaded and was banging away at my brain with a wooden club. I rolled over, stifling a yawn. The moment I felt warm flesh against my fingertips my eyes instantly flashed open. Holly lay sprawled out next to me, locks of brown messily covering the stark white pillow. I blinked when I realized she was completely naked beneath the thin sheet. Why could I barely even remember the night before? My migraine worsened when I looked down at my hand, seeing the glittering ring upon my finger. I gulped, recalling seeing the diamond “H” perched upon her finger on the plane. Why was I now wearing it? “What happened,” I murmured when a rush of nausea claimed me. I tossed away the covers and sprinted from the king sized bed.

I stumbled when I threw open a closet door before finally locating the bathroom, barely making it inside before I gagged. I was dizzy, nauseas, and utterly confused. Bits and pieces of the previous evening drifted into my memory. I remembered coming back to Holly’s hotel room. And the sex ... oh god the sex! How could I not remember that? There was a limo, wasn’t there? And why the hell did Elvis pop in my head? I groaned, continuing to gag until it felt as if my insides were ready to expel from my body. I had never felt so sick in my entire life. I rocked back on my heels, taking in several breaths. I shivered from my nakedness.

Every inch of my body ached and the burning sensation still lingered on my back. More flashbacks surfaced as I recalled the way Holly’s fingernails had dug into my flesh. I wiped my lips and grasped the counter, managing to reclaim my wobbly balance. When I turned and tilted my head so I could see my back in the mirror, I immediately winced. No wonder I was sore. Cat-like scratches ran several inches along my spine along with dried crimson. I shook my head and stumbled back into the suite, rummaging about for my discarded shirt.

I glanced towards the bed, checking to see if Holly was still sleeping. Even though it was much too tight on me, I grabbed her blouse since I was unable to find my own in the mess that littered the hotel floor. Discarded clothes, dishes, wine bottles, and even a pink vibrator filled the messy floor. I looked up again. Holly was so beautiful when she was sleeping, even the position she lay in astounded me. One hand rested against the pillow while her other hand pressed intimately against the sheet that covered her thighs. A smile covered her lips and she moaned deeply, pressing her hand firmly against her crotch. I grinned. She must have been having one hell of a dream. That was it. Maybe this entire situation was just a dream. I winced from the cramps that consumed my stomach. If this was a dream then it was a little too realistic for me when it came to the pain. I tiptoed over to the bed and glanced at the clock. Shit! I had a meeting to get to in less than four hours! I slammed my toe against the corner bedpost and yelped, causing Holly to instantly stir.

Holly lazily opened her eyes. She grinned as she slowly pushed herself up on the bed, allowing the sheet to fall from her chest. “You look sexy in my shirt.” In the light of day, she was even more beautiful than memory recollected. Seeing her nipples already so erect made my clit throb. Her heavy breasts swayed when she shifted on the bed, the sheet falling further to reveal her tone abs. Oh how I wanted to rush to her and repeatedly claim her delicious body.

“I tried to find mine but ...,” I blushed. I’d barely even been able to button the blouse. Had it not been for the size difference in our breasts, there was no way I could have buttoned it at all. I glanced down, wincing at the way the buttons appeared ready to pop. Okay, this wasn’t going to work. I had to find my own shirt. Elvis surfaced in my mind for a second time and I could have sworn I heard “Love Me Tender” playing. Oh shit! Elvis, a ring, no ... we couldn’t have ... could we? I gulped. Please tell me I had not spent the previous night becoming a Vegas cliché like so many of my heterosexual colleagues. “Um,” I shifted on my feet. “Holly ... what exactly happened last night?”

Holly appeared disappointed. “You don’t remember?”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head. I sighed as I walked over to the bed and looked down at Holly, trying to keep my eyes from staring at those immaculate breasts. “I remember bits and pieces. I know we made love,” I said with a grin. “I remember something about Elvis, too. What did we do last night? Do I even want to know?”

“You may want to sit down, sweetie.”