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Hmm.
Not my alarm.
It’s a call from my brother, Hadeon. But I can’t take his call and risk waking the guy next to me who shall still remain nameless because I can’t remember if I ever heard it in the first place.
I pull the silky white sheet up to my chin, a delicious shiver dancing over my goosebump-pebbled skin. His intoxicating, masculine scent hovers in the air like a thick, billowy cloud of abandon, daring me to touch him, to lick him, to jump on top of him and ride him like a tidal wave. But I can’t let myself get caught in his deviant riptide again.
He caught me in a weak and alcohol-tinged moment, and it was exactly what I’d needed.
Then.
But now, I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life since the letter I got effectively shattered it.
The man lets out a deep sigh. His long, tan leg kicks away the sheet, exposing his taut ass.
My dry as a camel’s ass mouth actually waters at the sight.
I need to get the hell out of here.
Seconds later, I’m crawling around the thick wine-colored carpet in search of my clothes. I find everything but my panties.
Commando it is.
I dress quickly and quietly. But, of course, I manage to trip over one of my shoes while tugging on my skirt. I land in an armchair with a loudwoof!,silently cursing my clumsiness.
Adonis rolls over to face me, his eyes a little bloodshot but still heart-stopping. The scythe inked onto his left shoulder draws my gaze.
Last night, he told me it symbolizes justice and death, and how he never shies away from serving up both to those who deserve it.
Maybe he really is the Devil.
I manage a sheepish smile. “Sorry about the noise.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. Dammit. I’m not the one-night-stand kind of girl and I have no idea how to navigate the morning-after awkwardness.
“This morning or last night?”
My insides erupt into flames like they’ve been dipped in gasoline and I’ve just swallowed a match. Oh my God, how loud was I? “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Women don’t usually try to sneak out on me.”
I clear my throat. “I, um, I’m sorry, but I have a meeting that I need to get to—”
“On a Saturday morning.” He flips back over, now facing away from me, his ripped, tattooed back on full display. “Have fun with that.”
I pull on my shirt, slide my feet into my heels, and stand up from the chair, ready to bolt for the door. I take a few steps and slam my fists against my legs.
My phone is still under the pillow.
I tiptoe back toward the bed and gingerly slip my hand under the pillow. My brow furrows.
Where the hell—?
The guy lets out a dry chuckle and holds it up without turning toward me.
“You’re holding it hostage?” I ask with a huff. “Don’t you know it screams desperation to try and keep the girl from leaving the morning after?”
He slowly flips onto his back, the sheet jostled enough so that it only covers his ankles. My eyes rake hungrily over every cut of muscle, landing on the deep V of his hips. I gulp when my eyes travel farther south.
