I stretched my arms back like a cat and sighed deep before realization dawned on my foggy brain that I wasn't in my own bed. And that my girly parts were sore. I'd gone home with Carter last night, and here I was the morning after, inhaling the musky scent of our lovemaking on his sheets. Images of the limo ride here, me pinned against the wall, and him between my legs flashed through my mind.
I opened my eyes slowly and rolled over to find myself alone in his bed. The wrinkled white sheet was draped over my naked body and suddenly I felt only shame. Carter had crept out on me; did he regret last night? Should I get dressed and sneak out the door? I bit my lip and looked around the room for my clothes and then realized Carter had peeled me out of my dress in the foyer, and then ripped my panties off of me last night. I had nothing to wear except one great pair of shoes.
My eyes darted around the room for something to cover up with. What a walk of shame this would be. Carter's undershirt lay across the chair by the door and I swiped for it and made my way to his en suite bathroom. I did my business then stepped in front of the mirror to access the damage. I ran my fingers quickly through my hair to get out the tangles and then splashed my face with water in an attempt to look fresh. I pulled the shirt over my head and stretched it to cover my bottom as much as possible. I didn't know what I would face when I walked out of the bedroom door, but I had to make at least an attempt at dignity in the current situation. I blew the air out of my lungs, held my head high, and sauntered out of the bedroom and made my way down the stairs.