Men And Their Ego's.

There is nothing worse than waking up in the early hours of the morning, groaning as your stomach churns and your head feels like a marching band is banging pots together horribly out of tune.

In addition, your mouth feels like a parched desert and your tongue feels like it has licked a cat's back, resulting in the sensation of a large fluff ball tickling the centre of your tongue; theoretically speaking.

“I hope you enjoyed the remainder of your evening that was spent with my cousin Davis,” A dark and dangerous voice sweeps through the room, jolting me wide awake as a ripple of goosebumps erupts across my feverish flesh.

I sit upright in the hotel bed, pulling the sheet up around my chest as the room slightly spins.

The last thing I remember, before my head hit the pillow after Davis had seen me back to the hotel suite, was me unzipping my dress and delicately placing it over the armchair.

The same armchair that is stationed in the corner of the room with Tobias nestling a tumbler o