He knows my name?I don’t know what to say, and then I don’t have to say anything as he leans over and kisses me like he knows his way around.His familiar taste activates the ‘OFF’ switch in my brain and I stop thinking.All I can do is want more.
“Mate.”His deep voice is a proverbial bucket of cold water.I mean, excuse me?What did he just call me?
He’s fast, too.Before I know it, I’m tucked up against his warm chest as he closes his eyes and drifts back to sleep.I don’t dare move.Let’s be honest, I don’t really want to.
I clutch the covers as his scent invites me to breathe him in.His heat invades my body like a thermal blast.He has a decidedly male smell, deep and enticing, like leather, bay leaves and cedar.I want to cuddle into the heady aroma.I close my eyes and inhale as small flashes of last night return to me.The bar.Nicholas.The limo ride to… Reno?
Oh shit, that limo ride…
I’m blushing, I feel the hotness in my cheeks.I tilt my head up and take my time looking at the gorgeous giant.Wow.Striking features, full lips, cheekbones any supermodel would kill for.His long, golden hair is so light it looks almost white.He is sexy as pure sin dipped in hot caramel, coated in chocolate and dusted with powdered sugar.Even better than a donut.
He obviously knows me.He knows my name.
I have no idea who he is.
I’m in bed with a stranger who is as naked as I am, at least from the waist up.I can’t see the rest without picking up the edge of the sheet and lifting a little, just the side, you know?Just a peak?
No.Bad, bad, bad.Do not look.
But I want to see.
Slowly, so as not to wake him, I lift the soft sheet.Just.A.Peak.
‘More like cucumbers.’The sound of Emily’s voice discussing his man parts drifts through my memory like a dust devil racing across the dry landscape before disappearing.The ache between my legs flares, as if to remind me why I’m feeling a bit sore this morning.He’s big all right.
I don’t know, but my body seems to remember just fine.Heart racing, I need to put some distance between us so I can think.I need to figure out what happened, and my out-of-control libido isn’t helping.
How did I get here?Who is he?Where are Emily and Hannah?They were with me at the bar.I remember that much.Are they all right?
Moving slower than molasses, I slide away from him and make my way to the edge of the bed.I sit up.My mouth feels stuffed full of cotton balls.My throat is dryer than the Sahara.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I tear my gaze from the magnificent hunk of sleeping man and squint at the shards of sunlight blaring through the blinds.Scanning the room through tired, irritated eyes, I don’t immediately recognize the bedroom.The ivory curtains and blush-colored walls, while homey, are not my bedroom walls.The stately, oak, four-poster poster bed isn’t mine, either.
Guess I’m not in Kansas anymore.Hysterical laughter bubbles up my throat, but I clamp my lips together to contain the panic.I’ve got a code red alert blaring through my brain.If I let the laughter loose, I doubt I’ll be able to stop.
The mattress beneath me feels foreign and stiff.The powder gray sheets and silver comforter are elegant, but too neutral.Boring.My bedroom is much more cheerful.
Anxiety, that horrid wench who sits on my shoulder every waking moment, tells me it’s time to freak out.The only thing that stops me is that I used up all my shock and humiliation yesterday.In fact, I’m numb about the whole wedding fiasco.After running down the aisle of that church in front of everyone who’s anyone in this county, waking up with a stranger the next morning is anticlimactic.
The logical explanation is that I had too much to drink, picked up a hot guy at the bar, and had a one-night stand.Which is something I’ve never done before.But so what?Happens to people all the time.Not to me, but to other people.Right?Nothing worth panicking about.
It’s not like I’m tied up and restrained, so I wasn’t kidnapped.Nothing but my girly bits are sore—well, the side of my neck feels a bit bruised—but that’s probably from… yeah.His hands are nice and big.If he squeezed a bit, or even nibbled?Maybe I have a giant hickey.That would explain the odd ache.
I wonder if I have bruises, best-sex-of-my-life bruises, that I can’t even remember getting.Damn it.
Starting with my hands and arms I flex my limbs, working my way down my torso.I stretch my legs and feet, and even wiggle my toes.Everything seems to be in working order.Although my overly full bladder makes its presence known.
I shove my long brown hair out of my face and tuck the wayward strands behind my ears.
I huff out a sigh.I need to get up, but there’s nothing to put on, at least nothing I can see.Where is my suitcase?Even if I had my wedding dress, it took both Emily and Hannah, working together, to get me into that gown.No way I could do it alone, which means I’ll have to walk around naked.
I shift my head to my left, slowly, because moving too quickly makes my skull feel like it’s about to explode.
It takes everything inside me not to stare at the man sprawled across the sheets like a god.Snuggled up against his chest, my view up close and very personal, he was amazing.Definitely the hottest man I’ve ever seen.He looks pretty damn good from here, too.How did he get here?How does he know my name?Did I really have sex with a guy this hot?
A combination of shocked confusion and lust slice through me.He’s sleeping without a care in the world, like he belongs here, in bed with me.I feel like a voyeur, but since he won’t know what I’m doing, I stare anyway.I study his features.I try not to want him and fail miserably.
He’s stunning.Gorgeous.Michelangelo’s David has nothing on this man.He is sheer, unbridled perfection.His long hair looks softer than homespun silk and falls past his shoulders.The contrast in color between his pale hair and thick, inky brows makes him striking.
