Hooking - Kristine Allen Page 0,9
my upper body free, I worked my leg from under his. He shifted and gave a little snore as I froze on the edge of the bed. When he didn’t make any further noises or movements, I climbed out of bed, wincing at the ache between my legs.
Trying to remember where my clothes were, I held my pounding skull. A glimpse of peach by the door brought back the memory of him telling me to strip out of my jeans and to take my underwear with them. My face heated at how I’d readily complied.
Thankfully, my phone was still in the back pocket. Struggling to be quiet as I turned my jeans right side out, I searched the room for my other beige heel. There was no way I was leaving in one shoe. I dropped to my knees after hurriedly pulling on my bottoms and bra.
“There you are,” I whispered as I reached under the dresser for the wayward shoe. My blouse was in the bathroom. No clue how that happened. Looking in the mirror, I groaned softly. Listening for movement, I cautiously turned the water on to a mere trickle. Enough to wash the raccoon eyes off. Then I looked around for a brush to use.
He had absolutely nothing in the bathroom. No hygiene bag, nothing. Dammit. Resigned to doing the best I could, I pulled my hair up in a ratted messy bun and secured it with a band from my pocket. “Good enough.”
Tiptoeing back out into the room, I risked a last look at the sex god from the night before. One arm thrown above his head, sheet riding low on his hips, one leg cocked to the side, he looked beautiful. Dark, wavy hair was spread out on the pillow, and I remembered pulling it as he… oh, God. A neatly trimmed beard covered his jaw, and thick lashes fanned over his cheeks. My eyes moved up as I fought drooling over the rippling abs on display.
Sweet baby Jesus, he was stunning. Not that I hadn’t noticed last night, but being able to overtly study him drove the point home.
He wasn’t massively buff, but he was fit, lean, and perfectly sculpted from sin.
I had to squeeze my hands into fists to keep from trailing them along the little bit of a happy trail peeking over the top of the sheet. The blankets were in a heap on the floor.
The thick bulge over one thigh had my face burning. I’d become very well acquainted with that part of him last night. Don’t get me wrong, I was no virgin, but I’d never had a one-night stand in my life. Why I’d done it last night, I didn’t know.
Actually, that wasn’t true. I’d wanted him the second I’d seen him. He was simply intoxicating, without the need for alcohol.
The thought of facing my parents had also been weighing heavy on me, and I’d gone out with Natalie as sort of a last hurrah. My parents didn’t know I was back in Austin yet. After graduation, I’d told them I was going to visit with a friend, then head home. It wasn’t a complete lie—I just didn’t tell them the friend was in Austin.
For a split second, I wondered if it would be bad form to take a pic of his dick as proof of the night. A tangible reminder, so to speak. I had to fight not to giggle at the thought.
Shaking my head, I ignored the pounding and tucked the memories away for a rainy day. It was time to join the real world. Last night was pure fantasy, not even remotely a part of my reality. Yet, I didn’t regret a minute of it.
Once I reached the door, I slipped my shoes on and slowly opened it, trying to be quiet. I didn’t want to have to work through that awkward morning-after dance. It was better if I could simply get the hell out without waking him. The click of the door when I shut it had me freezing and listening against it to see if he woke up. When nothing seemed to stir on the other side, I started toward the elevator, hitting Natalie’s number on my phone.
Right as the ringing started in my ear, I heard an echoing sound coming from one of the rooms. As I passed by the door next to the room I’d exited, I heard a muted “hello” right as Natalie answered her phone.
“Natalie?” I asked, though I’d called