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Sexy in Stilettos (A Sexy Contemporary Romance), Page 6

Nana Malone


  ***

  Darkness. That’s all Jaya’s brain registered. She blinked her eyes. Nope, still darkness. She rolled over under the duvet to try and get a glimpse at her bedside clock. Instead, an arm flung around her waist, bringing her up against a wall of muscle and…erm, yeah, that was definitely someone’s penis. Someone’s hard, thick penis pressing against her hip.

  Shit. Her brain began a frantic scramble for purchase. She dragged in a breath, smelled spices and mint, and smiled. Alec. The muscles of her lower belly contracted and the tingles in her belly made her bite her lip. She could feel her body soften for him. Achy inner thighs fell apart in anticipation. Put that all together and what do you have—Get the hell out of Dodge time.

  Peeling the heavy arm off her waist, she tried to orient herself.  Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe if she pinched herself, she’d wake up in her own bed. Except her brain flooded with memories of her fingers laced in dark curly hair as he licked her to a toe-curling orgasm. More images of her straddling and riding strong hips as his electric blue eyes worshiped her body. The final image of her with hands braced against the French doors of the balcony while he took her from behind.  Alec + Alec + Alec equaled So. Totally. Screwed.

  Jaya slapped her hands over her flushed face. What the hell had she been thinking, sleeping with Elevator Guy? She’d bought in to Micha’s whole moxy pep talk. Stupid, stupid, stupid. More stupid if she just lay here, waiting for Mr. I’m a Sex God to wake up. Awkward post coital—make that multiple coitals morning-after seshes—were so not her thing.

  Launching herself up, she darted a glance at Alec. Talk about excellent bed partner. He certainly knew what he was doing. That’s probably because he’s slept with every woman from here to Sweden, honey. Don’t go thinking it’s something it’s not. While she talked her body out of believing all the things Alec had told her last night, she tried to stretch as achy muscles protested in a honey-you-used-muscles-you-had-no-business using way.

  Lifting the sheet covering her to the neck, she peeked down.  Yeppers, definitely naked.  Not at all a dream. As the events of the previous night started to unpeel themselves like an onion, she flushed again. She'd slept with him. More than that, she'd seduced him. And somewhere in the foggy sex haze, she’d asked him to be her date.

  Jaya blushed when that memory flooded her brain. Her, kneeling in front of a spectacular erection, refusing to let him come until he promised to do her a huge favor by being her date. The way he coiled his hand in her hair and called her a tease, all the while making his own counter-bargain about seeing her in this position again.

  “Oh, God.” She cringed when the whisper filled the silence. What had gotten into her last night? She'd barely had anything to drink, so it hadn’t been the alcohol clouding her brain. It had been her stupid plans. They'd gotten her jazzed. She’d listened to her friends. Worse, she’d wanted to believe she could be someone different. Once she figured out how to get her life back, her brain had started to think she was invincible—like she could make anything happen. And she had. She peeked under the sheet one more time and still, she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Three, no make that four times—with a total stranger. Well at least he hadn’t killed her and chopped her up into the freezer. Thank Buddha for little favors.

  Okay, must escape before the awkward, gosh-I've-seen-you-naked-now-we-must-make-small-talk conversation. If she could slip out without waking him, she'd never have to see him again. Never mind the fact that she'd asked him to be her date for the wedding. Damn, she'd practically offered to pay him—with her body. She covered her eyes. Moron didn't even begin to cover it.

  Okay, girly, find your big-girl panties and bounce. Erm, make that thong. Standing up, she swept from side to side, looking for her dress. Nowhere in the bedroom. A stirring in the bed had her freezing like a cockroach in the daylight. When Alec settled himself back to sleep, she let out a long breath. Right. Dress came off in the living room. She padded out to the main room. Success.

  While shoving her arms into the slinky red number, she allowed herself a little pat on the back. Yeah it was a stupid stunt, but God knew she needed it. That was the first time she'd had sex in nine very long months. Since Derrick, actually. She'd gone for it—all out. No holds barred. Problem was, now that she’d had sex-so-good-you-wanna-slap-your-ex, she remembered how much she liked sex—craved it. Even worse, she really liked sex with Alec.

  Her body melted into readiness at the mere thought of his sure touch. Too bad you won’t be doing that shit again. Grab your panties and wallet and go. Except, she still couldn’t find her damn panties. They'd been on the table when Alec had taken them off, but she had no idea where they were now. Whatever. She could buy another pair. She grabbed her clutch and made a beeline for the door.  Glancing down at her bare feet, she frowned. Oh, right. Shoes. She’d kicked them off somewhere around here.

  Finding the stupidly expensive shoes under one of the foyer chairs, she slipped them on. Immediately losing her footing, she dropped her purse. Shit, shit, shit. Gathering the wayward items, she checked around to see if she could see the panties but couldn't. Get gone, love. No more one night stands for you. Most important, no more Alec Danthers. Reckless didn’t even begin to cover her behavior. There were reasons for rules. And she was a rule follower to the letter.