Before I had the chance to second-guess my decision, he pulled back lightly, nipping at my lower lip before pressing one last light kiss on my mouth.
"Any chance that sparked your memory?" he whispered hopefully, his hand still tangled in my hair. I wanted so badly to tell him I remembered everything, but still, nothing. I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed as I tried to force any memories in. Anything that could bring to light what had happened.
This was wrong. That much I knew. But my body disagreed-stomach flutters, heart thumping, arousal building inside-it was nothing like I've ever felt before.
"Can you tell me how we met? About what happened last night?" I asked, opening my eyes to see his locked on mine.
He lowered his hand but continued pressing up close to me. "You mean you want me to tell you how you were all over me?"
I laughed, appreciating the way he was trying to lighten the mood. I shoved my elbow into his side and said, "No. If I wanted the made-up version, I'd just tell myself a story."
"Are you saying it was the other way around?" he asked, pretending to sound offended.
"I'm saying that's the only option if this is how we ended up."
"So sure of herself-a quality I don't mind. Confidence is a good trait."
I frowned. "No, I just know what kind of person I am. I wouldn't risk disapproving behavior knowing I could easily be seen."
"Seen?" he inquired. "Are you someone I should know?"
I laughed nervously. "No, not really. I rather enjoy just being Mac." I was not going to tell him who I actually was. Hell no. There were plenty of elite celebs living in Manhattan-most of which the paparazzi just wanted to make a buck from. It didn't always mean anything, but when you were expected to be perfect in every way, you were criticized and analyzed even more often.
A knock on the door interrupted us. He grabbed a shirt from the dresser and pulled it on as he walked out to answer it.
A nicely dressed waiter pushed two carts in filled with trays of food. He really had ordered everything on the menu.
I watched as he thanked and tipped the guy. He was generous, that much I could see. The waiter thanked him over and over before Alex finally escorted him out of the room.
He lifted the tops off; the scent of fresh fruit and maple syrup hit my nose and suddenly, my stomach began to growl, loudly.
"I guess your appetite has suddenly changed."
"Yeah, I think my stomach finally realizes I am." I smiled, appreciating how comfortable he was making me. I should've done the dress-and-bail, but I couldn't, knowing what I had done. I needed answers, but part of me was starting to wonder if I was better off without them.
He served me a plate filled with scrambled eggs, toast and jelly, pancakes, and bacon. He piled butter, syrup, and fresh blueberries on the pancakes-just how I liked them.
"Most people I eat with would scowl at this amount of food," I admitted, taking the plate from him.
"Most people are morons." His head was down as he piled food on his plate, but I saw the corner of his lips curl up in a grin.
I chuckled. "That's true," I said matter-of-factly. "In fact, they'd never eat anything like this at all." I learned at a very young age food was never a guarantee and never to be taken for granted.
He grabbed his overly full plate and sat back down next to me, smiling from ear to ear. "Well, then I guess this can be our little secret."
I knew he was referring to much more than our little eating binge …
He flicked the TV on while we ate. I couldn't help the moans escaping my throat, as I tasted food I hadn't eaten in years.
"God, this is amazing," I groaned, pushing another forkful into my mouth. "Feels like a sin, it's so good."
I caught myself, but it was too late. I hadn't meant to say it aloud, but I knew he heard me when he nearly choked on the orange juice he was sucking down.
I playfully patted him on the back. "Are you going to make it?" I tried not to laugh-the mere mention of sinning had this guy almost choking to death.
"Um … yes. I think so. However, I'm pretty sure you're trying to kill me." His voice was smooth now, playful. The morning after a one-night stand should be awkward, nerve-wracking even, but he made me feel at ease by his laid back nature.
I finished my entire plate. My stomach full and satisfied, but my mind spun out of control. Who was this guy? Why did my body react to him in a way it never had before?
I should've felt fear, nervous even, to be lying side by side in a bed with a man I couldn't remember meeting, but I didn't. It was as if my body remembered everything, and my mind just hadn't caught up yet.
Chapter Two
"I'm going to take a quick shower," he said stacking the empty plates of food back on the tray. My headache was clearing, but my mind was still racing. This guy was the complete package-laid back, genuine, and sexy as hell. "Feel free to join me … if you're feeling dirty and want to wash all your sins away." He turned and winked at me, making it almost impossible to turn him down.
Sweet Jesus.
My breathing picked up, my heart racing as I actually contemplated his offer. What the hell am I doing?
"You have no idea … " I groaned. "But I really need to get going." I pushed myself off the bed, grabbing my dress in one hand and my purse in the other. Just then, I realized, there was no way I could leave the hotel in the daylight looking like this. "Actually, I have to call a friend first." I shot him a sympathetic look. I hated how I couldn't indulge in his very nice offer. My conscience was already eating at me with the layers of guilt.
"All right … " he said smoothly, lifting his shirt off his head. "I won't take long. Unless, of course, you change your mind."
I closed my eyes, hoping by not looking at him, my mind could clear up. "Sorry," I said half-laughing. I was sure he could see the agony in my face.
I could feel him as he walked toward me, the movements of his body pulsing as the room vibrated underneath me. I opened my eyes as his hand came up to caress my cheek. He leaned forward and placed a sweet, gentle kiss on my cheek. "Wait for me. Don't leave."
I couldn't say anything, my throat suddenly dry, and I was incapable of speaking. I nodded, holding my face in his hand. He stroked his thumb over my cheek as a silent thank you.
As soon as he walked away, I grabbed my phone and called Staci.
"Dude, where are you?" she asked right away.
I sighed. "The Standard."
"Still?" she gasped.
I sighed, closing my eyes before speaking again. "Any chance you can come get me without asking a million questions?"
"Doubtful," she said overly amused.
"Staci, please! I need a new outfit. A hat and some dark glasses."
"All right. What room?"
"Um … " I looked around, noticing a key card envelope on the bedside table. "Suite 1225."
"All right. I can be there in a half hour."
"Thank you," I breathed out in relief.
"Are you safe? You're okay?" she asked genuinely.
"Yeah … I'm good. I just need to get out of here without being seen."
We both said our goodbyes and hung up. I heard the shower running, curiosity piquing my interest.
Hell was hell, right? I was going there anyway.
I shrugged to myself and began to tiptoe to the bathroom. The door was cracked open, and I could see his reflection in the half-fogged mirror. His back was to me as the water cascaded down on him. He was brushing his hands through his hair as I moved my eyes down and noticed the scratches had turned bright red on his ass and up his back. Holy hell … those were fingernail scratches! I held my hands up to look at my nails and sure enough, they were sensitive to the touch. How the hell do you forget something like that?
A pang of bitterness rippled through me. I had a full night of sinful, hot, wild sex, and I didn't even remember it! Granted, it was wrong. So wrong. But I couldn't change the past. It had already happened.
I stepped back, forcing myself to go back to the room and wait for Staci. God, what would I tell her?
I SAT ON the edge of the bed as a half-naked Alex came walking back into the room. A white towel hung loosely on his hips as he brushed a hand through his damp hair. I swallowed, slowly turning my eyes away from him. It felt wrong to stare.
"Are you blushing?" he taunted, standing right in front of me. My head moved on instinct as soon as I heard his voice, and my eyes were now level with his crotch. Oh, hell.
"I was trying to be respectful," I said weakly. Even I could hear the insecurity in my voice.
"Sweetheart, there's nothing disrespectful about a gorgeous woman checking me out." His voice was laced with seduction and, for a moment, I contemplated ripping the damn towel off.
I looked up, eager to make eye contact with him so they wouldn't wander anywhere else. "My friend is on her way. I'll be leaving shortly." My voice cracked, my body suddenly nervous around him.