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Anyway, I can’t regret any of it when he made me feel like a goddess. Like every inch of my body was the most beautiful thing in the world, designed just for him.
But I need to snap out of my Ace-induced haze. If he got me this lust-drunk after one night, imagine what he could do to me if I spent the day with him? Or another night? Or two?
The problem with Ace is that he has the power to break my heart, I knew that from the minute he sat down at the bar with me with those blue eyes and that dark smile.
The reality is: you probably don’t get that skilled, that smooth, that irresistible out of nowhere. He’s obviously done this many times. It’s probably second-nature for him at this point.
I silently thank my lucky stars we agreed it was a one-time thing. No strings attached and no regrets. It’s better this way.
And so it’s back to reality for me. Even if it’s a slightly new reality. One in which I’m no longer an ice maiden but a non-virgin sex queen who’s had six or seven back-to-back orgasms and is still riding my killer endorphin rush.
Who even knew a person could come that much?
I glance at the clock on the nightstand and quickly tie my dress, pulling on my shoes.
Taking one final—long, lingering—look at Ace sleeping peacefully, I’m tempted to run my fingers through his thick, disheveled hair and kiss his perfect mouth.
But I don’t.
I scribble a quick note, grab my bag and very quietly leave.
I sneak across to the elevator, hoping like hell that it doesn’t wake him, and ride down to the fourth floor, making my way back to my room.
At record speed, I put my hair up and rinse myself under the shower, throw on a travel outfit, shove everything into my suitcase and order an Uber.
I step out onto my balcony, allowing myself one more adoring gaze out over my Waikiki view. Bye, Hawaii. Thank you for the best three days of my life.
Now it’s time to put some distance between me and the to-die-for hunk who’s still soundly asleep in his penthouse.
It was a one-time thing.
End of story.
But, wow, what a hot, beautiful, orgasmic story it was.
8
I reach for her, needing to wrap myself around the hottest, most beautiful girl on planet Earth. My gorgeous little hot-as-fuck Texan…
Instead, I feel only the cool, empty sheets.
I open my eyes. “Tex?”
Maybe she’s in the shower.
Or out on the balcony.
I get out of bed, wrapping the sheet around my waist because I have a raging hard-on.
Not that she minded The Beast last night.
Fuck, that was a hot night. My cock is still on overdrive from the sweet, insanely beautiful perfection of her wriggling, nubile little body.
“Tex?” I’m not sure why but my chest feels tight with something that might be…panic.
She’s not in the shower. Or out on the balcony.
She left?
