Naked Thrill. Jill Monroe
Every muscle ached and her lips were dry from—uh-huh, probably from too much lip-lock. Her fingers bunched into the sheet at her chest.
Please don’t be naked. Please don’t be naked.
She raised the sheet.
One hundred percent, bikini-line-glowing naked. Hayden lifted the sheet higher, dreading, hating that she must force her glance to the warmth beside her to confirm what she already knew.
Yep. A man. Just as naked. And he was exactly her type. Broad shoulders, nice sprinkling of hair across a muscular chest all leading to a flat stomach and—
Stop right there. How did that gambler’s remorse saying go? What happened last night would stay last night.
Only, what had happened last night? Hayden rolled to her side, drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. She massaged tiny circles on her temples, easing away the tension and inviting her memories of last night to take its place.
Still nothing.
What was wrong with her? She didn’t feel hungover. Had she been drugged? No, she didn’t have that fuzzy, surreal grogginess she’d read about in those PSA pamphlets in college. But clearly something had been done to her; she couldn’t remember the night before. Picking up a stranger, getting naked and apparently dancing the horizontal mambo with a guy were usually things she remembered.
She was a commitment girl, in it for the long term when it came to men. Bang and bail wasn’t her style.
Hayden glanced over at the man beside her. Her huffing and rustling around in the bed hadn’t disturbed him. Maybe whatever had affected her was affecting him, too? Or did he just sleep like the dead on a regular basis?
Don’t wait around to find out.
Yes, grabbing her clothes and sneaking out seemed about as obvious as a blinking neon sign. Clearly the only logical response. Okay, no it wasn’t. Calmly waking him up and asking him his name and what the hell had happened last night was the only logical response. Hayden just didn’t want to do that, and logic had nothing to do with it.
Instead, she flung away the covers, gasping when her own nakedness confronted her again. At least it roused some sense into her.
No, she couldn’t sneak out. As tempting as avoidance was, she wouldn’t take the coward’s path. She needed answers, and the naked man beside her was the only one who could give them to her. Hayden gently tugged the sheet up and secured it around her breasts. She rolled out of bed and gazed down at his face, hoping something would finally click.
If she’d thought his body was droolworthy, his face almost put those washboard abs to shame. Relaxed in sleep and lightly stubbled, the strong curve of his chin, broken by a slight cleft, tempted Hayden to trace her fingers along it. Her gaze lingered on his sensual, full, bottom lip. How many times had she tugged that sexy lower lip of his into her mouth last night? Sucked it?
Tingles shot through her stomach and her nipples hardened against the softness of the sheet. It must have been some night if the man could make her go all tingly when she couldn’t remember what he’d achieved with those lips of his.
A shaft of heat shimmied down her back to pool between her legs, but she clamped her knees together. Now was the time for answers. Not imagining the hot kisses and slow caresses this man must have delivered last night.
But still, she could steal a moment to gaze down at him. After all, once learning the truth of the night before, she never planned on laying eyes on Mr. I’m Still Sexy After A Night of Wickedness. It was just too weird. One and done wasn’t her style.
And yet, last night must have been the toe-curling, forget-all-reason kind of sex, because her skin ached in awareness of him. Desire for more? Obviously her body remembered every caress and kiss and was shouting, hell yeah—more. He was the sexy kind of wrong that women lied to themselves to make right. Hayden’s heart raced as she neared him and she breathed in his scent. Clean apple, mixed with man and leather and dark, sweet chocolate.
Chocolate? Was she actually comparing him to chocolate? Good Lord, the man was addictive. Hayden wanted to breathe him in and taste him all at the same time.
What did I do to this man’s body last night?
More like, what hadn’t she done? Truth be told, she’d never woken up beside such a delicious man. A thin scar ran across his temple and disappeared into his eyebrow. He possessed a rugged kind of sexiness. Not boyishly handsome, more like I can make you forget your own name. He had the kind of dark wavy hair that women loved to drag their fingers through, but which he probably fought to control. She bet his eyes were as dark and beautiful, like a caffe mocha first thing on a cold, rainy morning.
Coffee and chocolate? Clearly she was food deprived. And sleep deprived. And extra hungry from the workout of last night, perhaps?
She noticed the lines fanning from his eyes and bracketing his mouth—he smiled a lot. Hayden liked that about him. Which was a relief. She needed to find good things in this man she barely knew but had taken to her bed.
Correction. A bed. On top of not recognizing the man, she had no idea where she was. She scanned the room frantically.
She was in a one-room cabin with logs for walls and a wall of windows overlooking a beautiful pond with two ducks playfully swimming and splashing in the water. Completely unfamiliar. What was going on? The ducks wouldn’t be giving off any clues, so the only way she’d find out anything was to wake Mr. Hot beside her.
Hayden poked the man in the shoulder. Nothing.
She poked him again, adding a shake and a “Hey!”
His lids slowly opened and locked with hers. Dark brown and just as sexy as she’d suspected. A slow smile spread across his face, and her breath hitched. Then his eyes drifted shut, and that was it. He’d fallen back asleep.
Well, if she wanted him to wake up and stay awake, she’d have to go primal.
* * *
TONY’S LIDS OPENED with the force of a kick. Someone was smacking him on the bicep. Hard. In a flash his fingers encircled his attacker’s arm, and with a quick yank, he’d subdued and pinned his assailant to the...bed?
He blinked a few times only to see that long brown hair covered the intruder’s face, and his fingers were digging into supple, feminine flesh.
“Dammit, woman, I could have hurt you. You can’t wake a man up like he’s under attack.”
He loosened his grip around her wrists, but didn’t bother to roll off her body. He was enjoying being exactly where he was. With a soft woman beneath him. Her tight nipples caressing his chest. Her full hips gently cradling the hardness of his cock.
Now this is how to wake up.
She wrested her hands from his light grasp and pushed the hair from her face. “Get. Off. Me.”
His eyes met an angry green gaze. A completely unfamiliar green gaze. Holy sh— He backed off her in one fluid motion. Or it was supposed to be smooth. It was more like a jerky, lurching kind of stagger. What the hell had he done last night?
Despite the sluggishness infusing his muscles, Tony didn’t feel hungover. No headache. No dry mouth. No dizziness. A rush of sweet relief made his shoulders sag.
He hadn’t had a drink in over two years. A vow he planned to keep forever.
Besides, if he had been drinking, he’d be too hungover to now be enjoying the sight of the woman’s trim body. An amazing body he’d inadvertently revealed when he’d taken the sheet with him as he’d rolled off her. The roundness of her breasts would fit his hands perfectly. Her rosy nipples hardened before his eyes. And he imagined them hardening further in his mouth. He took in the slight tan lines at her hips and breasts, a treat he was sure few got to see, even though he had absolutely no idea who she was or how she came to