The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7)(66)

“God.” I picked up the pace, practically jerking my dick off as the orgasm raced down my spine between my legs, tightened my nutsack and then shot out the end of my cock. I bowed my head and pressed one hand against the wall, stroking myself to completion.

But as the relief of satisfying myself began, so did the self-disgust. I was so pathetic, jacking off alone in a shower merely after seeing a pretty girl. I needed sex so bad I was probably going to wank myself blind soon.

I should’ve never turned Monique down last night. What the hell was I waiting for, anyway? So what if a woman wasn’t my soul mate; a couple intimate minutes with a complete stranger had to be better than nothing, because right now, I had nothing.





Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough to let him catch me in the shower. But he’d just barely left to get food, and even as tired as I was, I knew that had to be my last opportunity to take a shower before we left, so I’d leapt out of bed and tried to hurry, except, damn it, he’d caught me.

And then I’d gone and used my slutty se?orita voice on him.

Jodi would be so proud.

I, on the other hand, was horrified.

But he hadn’t pieced the truth together, and when he asked me who I was, the Spanish just came pouring out because I knew he wouldn’t understand me. I had told him that I hated lying to him, but someday I was sure he’d know the truth, just not right at that moment while I was naked in a shower and he was staring at me as if he found me attractive.

And then he went and admitted he found me attractive.

I almost melted right then.

Asher thought girl-me was hot. That was just so...amazing. Not only that, but he’d flirted with me. Freaking-fracking flirted...with me!

I’d never seen him so bold or engaging with any female before. Ever.

But then…he had once admitted to me he liked to be the pursuer, hadn’t he, and I’d definitely retreated enough to heat the predator in him. Not intentionally. At the time, I’d just wanted to flee, but damn, watching him on the hunt was erotic as hell.

Rocking a whole boatload of nerves and fear and excitement, I raced along the halls of the hotel in nothing but a towel, my mask and sleep clothes clutched to my chest until I found a public bathroom at the end of the hall. Darting inside, I dropped the heap I’d been carrying on the floor at my feet. Good thing I’d been naked when he walked in on me; it had successfully distracted him enough that he hadn’t noticed Sticks’s wig-mask sitting pretty as you please on the bathroom vanity.

Cursing myself for my stupidity in leaving the door cracked, I peeled off the towel and dug through my heap to find my man panties. But I hated showering with a door closed; it just felt so humidly, smotheringly cloistering to me. Still...

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered, jerking on my foam chest and then the rest of my clothes.

My hair was dripping wet and I didn’t have anything to comb it with, so I used the towel to squeegee as much moisture as possible from it. Then I ran my fingers a couple times through the damp locks before winding them into a bun and tugging on my mask. I checked out the mirror for glitches and straightened my left ear when I saw it was wonky. Then I blew out a breath and turned to leave the bathroom. That’s when I realized I was barefoot.

I couldn’t return to the room barefoot; Asher would wonder why I didn’t have any shoes, and I was sure he was going to bombard me with enough questions I needed to come up with some answers for.

So, while I scampered barefoot around the hotel, searching for something that might pass as shoes, I tried to come up with a plausible story.

But really...why would I have let a girl into our room and then left her there alone to shower? Maybe I thought she needed some privacy. But then, he’d want to know who she was. Just some random girl who’d knocked on our door, begging for the use of our bathroom? Meh, I couldn’t see him buying that story. If I’d trusted her alone in our room, then I’d have to know her, and if I knew her, I’d have to come up with a name for her, possibly a life story if he got really curious.

I was already lying to him enough with the whole I’m-a-dude trickery, I didn’t want to lie any more than I had to. So I decided to go with the clueless route. Yeah, that sounded good. After miraculously spotting a pair of Chicago Bears flip-flops with one strap broken sitting on the closed lid of the dumpsters outside, I trudged back to the hotel, holding my breath as I let myself into our room.

Asher pounced immediately. I barely opened the door before he was in my face, demanding, “Where the hell have you been?”

I lurched a step back, a bit concerned by the anger flashing in his eyes. “I...I was looking for you. I thought you said you were going to eat breakfast at Denny’s across the street, and when I couldn’t go back to sleep, I hauled my butt over there, but you were gone.”

“Because I forgot my wallet in the room and came back to get it. Who was the girl?”

I swear, I deserved an Academy Award for the way I furrowed my eyebrows, squinted at him and asked, “What girl?”

“The...the...” He sputtered a second longer, motioning wildly toward the bathroom. Finally, he was able to blurt, “The f*cking chick in our shower!”

Mouth gaping, I glanced toward the opened door of the bathroom and then back to him, sending him a look that told him I thought he was straight-up tripping.