Sex, Not Love(7)

Shit. What did I do?

I tiptoed into the bathroom with my heart racing and my brain desperately trying to remember something from last night—anything that involved Hunter Delucia inside my room.

Inside me.

This was worse than my worst night in college. How could I not remember anything? My reflection answered me—I looked like death warmed over. My raven hair was a knotted ball—half up, half down with bobby pins falling out all over. My normally fair skin was paler than usual, and my green eyes were red and puffy.

It was then that I finally looked down. I was dressed in a T-shirt and sweats, but underneath I was still wearing a bra and panties. Forget that I didn’t remember getting dressed; this made me pause and wonder why I was dressed. Once my bra came off, it didn’t go back on. Not to mention, I wasn’t shy about my body—it wasn’t my M.O. to get myself fully re-dressed after a night of passion.

Is it possible we slept together and didn’t have sex?

I reached my hand down into my sweatpants and pressed against my privates. I wasn’t sore at all. Although that wasn’t proof positive—maybe the giant of a man currently snoring in my bed wasn’t anatomically correct and was a gentle lover. Neither seemed plausible.

I checked the garbage can for signs of a condom and the towel rack to see if any towels had been used to clean up last night. Nothing. But yet, I was a mess—it looked like I’d had wild and crazy sex…

Unfortunately—or perhaps it was fortunately—I didn’t have time to dwell on what had happened. If I wasn’t on my way to the airport in the next fifteen minutes, I was going to miss my flight.

After a quick shower, I dried off and tiptoed back out to my suitcase. I collected my clothes, but the garter that had started this mess was nowhere to be found, and I was disappointed I wouldn’t have it as a keepsake.

Hunter still hadn’t moved. In fact, he was snoring louder and more consistently now. I rushed to dress, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and rubbed some moisturizer on my face before shoving everything into my suitcase.

I was about to sneak out when I decided I needed to know what had happened. Leaving my suitcase at the door for a quick escape, I quietly walked over to Hunter’s side of the bed.

Of course, unlike me, he looked just as good this morning as he had last night. I took a moment to appreciate that. His coppery brown hair was disheveled, but somehow even sexier than it had been slicked back last night. Thick, dark lashes framed closed, almond-shaped eyes—eyes that I recalled were a startling light blue.

His gentle snoring continued at a consistent pace, so I took a deep breath and stepped closer. I needed to see what was under the sheet. His chest was bare, but was he wearing pants under there?

One more step.

I stopped again to stare at his face before making my final move. He was still out cold. Or, so I thought…

Reaching out, I picked up the edge of the sheet and lifted ever so gently. Then I leaned forward to peer underneath.

Holy shit.

He was wearing boxer briefs.

But…he had a morning erection. A huge bulge protruded from his tight underwear. There’s no way that thing had been inside of me. I’d have to be at least a little sore.

Feeling relieved (with an odd sense of regret and longing after seeing that behemoth of an appendage), I set the sheet back down and turned to walk away. A large hand gripped my wrist.

“You’d remember it, sweetheart. Trust me.” Hunter’s gravelly voice carried a hint of amusement.

“I…I was looking for something.”

One eyebrow perked. “Oh yeah? What were you looking for?”

“My shoe.”

His lip twitched. “What color is it?”

I scrambled to remember what shoes I’d even brought on this trip. “Black with a silver bar across the front.”

Hunter’s eyes dropped to my feet. Fuck.

He looked back up at me. “Found it for you.”

I trained my eyes down at my shoes to avoid his intense stare. “Oh. Silly me. I overslept, and I’m out of sorts. I need to run or I’m going to miss my flight.” I went to pull away, but his grip on my wrist tightened.

“You’re not going anywhere before you do two things.”

“Two things?”

“Leave your number and kiss me goodbye.”

“I…I…you haven’t brushed your teeth.”

Hunter chuckled. It felt like he could see through all of my bullshit. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed his phone and held it out to me before getting up. “Toothpaste in the bathroom still?”

“The little one the hotel sets out.”

“I’ll brush. You type.”

While he was in the bathroom, I mulled over not typing anything into his phone. There was no way I was keeping in touch with a man living three-thousand miles away. A guy like him was the last thing I needed. But then I thought better of just telling him I’d put my number in. He seemed to have figured me out pretty quick. So instead, I typed my name and number, only I changed the last two digits.

And it was a good thing I did, because when Hunter returned from his bathroom trip, the first thing he did was check that I’d entered something. Luckily, he didn’t attempt to call me. Satisfied, he tossed his phone on the bed and nodded.

“Thank you. Now kiss me.”