Surrender Your Love (Surrender Your Love #1)(4)

What was he doing in my bed? And why was he nak*d?

What do you think, stupid? It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Just look at his smug grin.

I peered at his face. In the bright morning light falling through the window he looked younger than last night, but just as arrogant. His gorgeous lips curled into the most stunning smile I had ever seen. A panty-dropping smile, as Sylvie would have called it. I paled at the realization. Had I dropped my panties for him?

He regarded me with mild amusement in his smoldering eyes—the color of dark moss covered by a thin layer of opal mist. The way he looked at me, I felt as though he saw through my body and directly into my soul. No one had ever made me feel like that before. Then again, I had never met someone so electrically good-looking, but there’s a first time for everything.

“Are you ready for Round Two?” His voice dripped with insinuation. I had heard that hoarse voice before, but where? My brain fought to make a connection through the alcohol infused haziness clouding my memory retrieval system. And then it dawned on me.

“You were at The Black Rose. I was supposed to meet with Mayfield, but he sent you instead.”

His grin widened, revealing two strings of pearl white, even teeth.

Beautiful, strong teeth that nibbled on my neck and grazed the sensitive skin on my thighs.

Whoa, where did that come from? I shook my head lightly and tried to cling to the memory before my eyes, but it was gone already.

“Did we—” I gestured at his nak*d chest. My heart stopped beating for a moment as I waited for his assurance that it was all a misunderstanding, that I didn’t bang a stranger, because one-night stands weren’t my thing. Besides, I was in a relationship, albeit an open one, but cheating wasn’t my thing either. I wasn’t turning into Sylvie, was I? And I probably wasn’t so stupid to have banged the guy.

Mystery Guy opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and in that instant I knew.

I was cheap, not least because I couldn’t even remember his name.

“Oh, God.” I jumped out of bed, vaguely realizing I wasn’t wearing anything, not even my panties—probably courtesy of his panty-dropping smile. Mortified, I pulled the sheet from him and covered my nak*d body, then scooped up what I assumed were his jeans from the pile of clothes scattering the floor and tossed them toward Mystery Guy. He caught them in midair but didn’t hurry to put them on. Well, he obviously was comfortable with his private parts on full display. Good for him.

I cringed and hissed, “Get out.”

He blinked and frowned, as though he wasn’t used to this tone from anyone. Was that a hint of disappointment in his eyes? I shook my head at my confusing thoughts. Why would he feel that way when he didn’t even know me? And then it was gone, and his blazing gaze turned to ice. My heart sank in my chest.

I turned my back on him and called over my shoulder, “You found your way in here, so I’m sure you can find your way out,” as I sprinted out the door and headed for the safety of the kitchen, running right into Sylvie brewing our morning coffee.

“Is somebody doing the walk of shame?” Sylvie pointed at my burning cheeks.

I stared at her made-up face and perfect hair. Seriously, how could she look as though she just went through a beauty treatment at a spa after a long night of binge-drinking and barfing all over the small patch of lawn outside our building?

Sylvie held out her coffee mug. “Here, take it. You need it more than me.”

“Thanks.” I took a sip and burned my tongue in the process. The sharp pang of pain offered a welcome diversion from the question at hand. Why did I bring a guy home?

“Is he still here?” Sylvie whispered conspiratorially.

I almost spit out my next sip. “You know?”

She nodded. “You didn’t exactly make a secret out of wanting to bed him.”

What the hell did I do? Strip off and give him a lap dance? Sylvie made it sound like I acted all sex-starved. No wonder the guy was disappointed not getting a morning quickie.

“You’re my best friend. You should have stopped me!” I was so mad at her, at myself, at Hot Shirtless Arrogant Guy for accepting my obviously drunken advances. But, even as I was seething, I knew he was the last to blame. What guy would say ‘no’ to a willing female with loose morals?

“I was drunk,” Sylvie whispered, like that would explain everything.

Heavy footsteps thudded across the narrow corridor and stopped in the doorway. Holding my breath, I buried my gaze in my coffee and willed it to swallow me up so I wouldn’t have to face the shame of my actions.

“Good morning, ladies,” Mystery Guy said.

“Want a cup?” Sylvie strolled over and poured him some coffee, ignoring my venomous look.

What the heck?

Was he now staying for a cup of coffee? Didn’t he get the memo?

“Cheers.” He took a gulp and sighed slightly. Damn! Why did he sound so sexy doing normal stuff like drinking? My cheeks began to burn as my gaze trailed his strong chest, my mind conjuring images of him on top of me. Was this my brain’s attempt at reminding me of what we did, or just a fantasy?

“How did you get such a hottie? I’m so jealous, and proud of you,” Sylvie whispered, not the least bothered by the fact that my conquest could most certainly hear every word. Her gaze brushed him appreciatively, her X-ray gawk probably undressing him this very instant. While I usually didn’t mind her leering, for some inexplicable reason it bothered me. Her lips curled into a lascivious smile, and she began to play with a golden strand of hair. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see her glued to his leg, drooling all over him.