Читать книгу Sizzling Desire - Kayla Perrin - Страница 13

Chapter 4

Lorraine’s eyelids fluttered as she stirred and turned onto her side. As she did, the sheet covering her body slipped down over her hip. Cool air kissed her naked skin. She frowned slightly. She wasn’t wearing her pajamas? Her thighs pressed together, and she felt another odd sensation: a dull ache. What the—

Her eyes popped open, taking in the darkness. It wasn’t so dim that Lorraine couldn’t see the tall armoire, the white leather chair in the corner. This was not her bedroom. Her heart began to thud.

It all came back to her, and dread filled her belly with the weight of a bowling ball. She remembered exactly where she was.

The bar. The sexy stranger. The drinking.

Her world being rocked.

Oh, God. Had she really just had a one-night stand?

As she lay in the bed, afraid to move, afraid to see the proof of what she’d done, the soft, steady sounds of breathing filled the air. Slowly, Lorraine turned her head to look on the other side of the bed. Her heart slammed against her rib cage when she saw the man beside her. Hunter. That was his name. And as she stared at him, she was momentarily distracted by that amazing body. The bed sheets covered him from the waist down, but that muscular chest, those wide shoulders and those washboard abs were gloriously exposed.

Heat pooled in her center. Oh, how that sexy body had thrilled her last night. She had been shameless in her desire, clutching Hunter tightly as they’d made love, whispering in his ear just how to please her.

Her cheeks burned with the memory. She had to get out of here.

She inched her body to the edge of the bed, then glanced at Hunter. His lips were parted, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. The bed dipped as she slipped out of it, and thankfully, Hunter didn’t stir. The room was dark, but her vision was adjusting. She scanned the room for her clothes. Her bra was on the hardwood floor beside the bed. A foot away was her shirt. Where was her underwear? She didn’t see it.

She whirled her head around. Her jeans and underwear were on the far right of the bed close to Hunter’s shirt. Lorraine cringed. In their haste to get naked, their clothes had landed anywhere and everywhere. That’s how excited she had been to make love with a stranger.

Though she certainly couldn’t call him a stranger after how well acquainted they had gotten last night...

She quickly scooped up all of her clothes and crept as quietly as she could across the cool floor toward the door. Last night had been amazing. Honestly, it had been just what she’d needed. Though leaving the bar with a man she didn’t know was uncharacteristic of her, she didn’t regret it, and she wasn’t going to mentally berate herself for what she’d done.

The bedroom door was ajar, and she slowly edged it open wide enough that she could slip through. Once she was on the other side of it, she exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She glanced to the right. The hallway opened up to the living room. Though she desperately wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, she had to use the bathroom. So she tiptoed to the left and tried the door there. It was the bathroom. Thank God.

She caught sight of her reflection. She looked...satisfied. She couldn’t help smiling. Her body was throbbing in places it hadn’t throbbed in years.

The smile went flat as she started to make her way to the condo door. Her purse, her shoes. They were in the bedroom.

“Damn it,” she whispered, balling her hands into fists. She’d escaped, and now she had to go back in there?

She had no choice. Creeping slowly across the floor, she slipped back into the bedroom. Her stomach bottomed out. Hunter was now on his side, no longer on his back. Was he awake?

Standing still, Lorraine stared at him for a good fifteen seconds. His breathing sounded even. He was still asleep.

She walked forward in search of her belongings. Her purse was at the foot of the leather chair. As she retrieved that, she scowled. Where were her shoes?

The memory of her jeans down around her ankles and Hunter’s fingers brushing her skin as he removed her shoe hit her full force, and her cheeks flushed. She’d been on the right side of the bed. Her shoes had to be there somewhere.

She walked forward, noticing Hunter’s jeans in a heap. Rosa was fond of saying, “If you can’t find something you’re looking for, most likely it’s underneath something else.”

Bingo!

Lorraine hurried over to the jeans and picked them up. Yes! She quickly claimed her shoes, then looked at Hunter to see if he had moved. He hadn’t. Lorraine started for the bedroom door again.

Just before she exited, she stole one last glance at Hunter over her shoulder. The absurdity of the situation hit her, and she had to fight to hold in a laugh. Here she was trying to sneak away from a gorgeous guy who had given her the best pleasure of her life. She’d really won the lottery in the hot-sex department. Instead of running, she should be slipping back into his bed.

Lorraine walked out of the room. There would be no round three. The two hot sessions had been amazing, and Hunter had served his purpose. He’d left her sexually sated, and now she could move forward a new woman. She felt a little bit bad about leaving him without saying goodbye, but she had no clue if he would want to exchange numbers and stay in touch. No, Lorraine didn’t want to complicate matters any further. It was best that she just leave and avoid any awkward morning-after chatting.

The door’s lock clicked, and in the silent condo it sounded like a bomb going off. Her heart racing, Lorraine hurriedly opened the door and escaped into the hallway. She squinted, the bright lights assaulting her eyes. Forget the elevator. She jogged barefoot to the stairwell.

Once she was there, she put her shoes on, then made her way down the stairs to the building’s first floor.

Lorraine straightened her spine and walked briskly toward the double glass front doors. She didn’t give the security guard sitting at a desk even a cursory glance. Had she seen him when they’d entered the building? Had he seen her?

It didn’t matter. So what if he knew how she’d spent the last six hours? She wasn’t the first woman to leave a man’s place in the middle of the night.

The cool night air enveloped her as she stepped outside. It was jarring. She opened her purse and withdrew her phone. Then groaned when she found that it was dead. At least she had a portable charger in her purse, so she plugged her phone in. Standing there on the sidewalk, it seemed to take forever to boot up. She hated that she had to stay here any longer, but she needed to access her Uber app in order to get a ride out of here.

Lorraine glanced over her shoulder. No one was there. Hunter wasn’t coming after her.

The time on her phone read 4:03. As she accessed the Uber app, she realized she would need to stay at the address that was automatically sent to the driver. She didn’t want to linger in front of Hunter’s building, but what choice did she have? All she could do was wait—and pray that Hunter didn’t come downstairs.

* * *

Hunter’s eyelids popped open. In a nanosecond, a memory came flooding back. Soft breasts pressed against his chest, luscious lips suckling his skin.

The woman.

Mary.

A smile breaking out on his face, he glanced to the right. The smile went flat. Mary wasn’t in his bed.

Easing his head up, he looked around the room. Nothing. He strained to hear any sounds coming from his en suite bathroom. There was no sound, no light emanating from beneath the bathroom door.

Where the heck was Mary?

Sitting up, he dragged a hand over his face. Then he chuckled, but the sound held no mirth. He’d been ditched.

How long had it been since that had happened? Not since his first year of college, and he certainly hadn’t connected with that girl the way he’d connected with Mary.

Hunter scratched his head. His time with Mary had been spectacular. As welcomes to town went, it had been off the charts. So why had she taken off? It wasn’t as if Hunter wanted a serious relationship with her—something he knew that she, as a newly divorced woman, also didn’t want. But a friends-with-benefits arrangement with a woman he connected with on such a carnal level? That would suit Hunter just fine. He’d liked Mary’s spunk, her personality and the way that hot body of hers writhed beneath his.

Heat pooled in Hunter’s groin. Just thinking about her was getting him aroused again. He closed his eyes, remembered the look of pleasure on her face as he’d made love to her, the way she’d dug her fingernails into his back. She’d likely left a mark or two.

A tingle of pleasure shot down his spine as he recalled those spectacular moments together. She’d wanted him—desperately. She wouldn’t have ditched him.

Hunter stood. Maybe Mary had needed to leave, and he’d been sleeping like the dead after their intense lovemaking. His shoulders relaxed with that thought. Yes, that made sense. She was in a rush, didn’t want to wake him, but she no doubt left him a note somewhere. Certainly Hunter couldn’t be so delusional as to have imagined their amazing connection. Their chemistry had been sizzling, so why wouldn’t she want more of that?

He didn’t bother to slip into his briefs. He wanted to find the note she’d left. Naked, he wandered into his kitchen and then the living room looking for it. When he didn’t find one, he returned to the bedroom and checked the night tables. Frowning, he scratched his head.

And then it hit him. The bathroom was likely the best place to leave a note. He had two of them. His en suite, and the main one.

Hunter went into the main bathroom first, and saw no note on the counter. Nothing on the edge of the bathtub. So he went back into his bathroom, but also found nothing there. He glanced into the mirror, saw the confusion etched on his face.

There had to be a note somewhere.

And then he started to laugh. Mary was making a game of this. Hadn’t she displayed a playful side in the bar and in his bed? Of course she wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

Hunter wandered back out to the condo at large and checked the hall table. Then he went into the kitchen, his eyes sweeping over the counters. He moved from there to the small dining room table, but again he found nothing.

The living room. Something had to be there.

Hunter crossed into the living room, but a quick glance told him that there was no note on the coffee table. He walked over to the wall entertainment unit and perused the shelves there. Again, nothing.

Hunter turned, his eyes landing on the sofa. There was nothing there, but he strode over to it. He slipped his hands between the cushions.

“This is stupid,” he said when he found nothing other than some cookie crumbs. “What am I doing?”

His ego was getting to him, clouding his judgment. But as reality dawned, the amusement inside him fizzled, much like a campfire flickering out. Mary hadn’t left a slip of paper anywhere, not even a tissue with a smiley face and her phone number.

How stupid he had been to think that she’d been playing some kind of game with him. Instead, she’d simply played him.

Hunter’s jaw clenched. There was no doubt about it. He’d been ditched.