Page 10 of Dirty Temptation

I was stoned off my ass and sprawled—and I mean sprawled—out on his sofa like a hussy. WhileThe Simpsonssoftly played in the background I opened my legs to him, and he literally feasted on me.

Ugh.

Just thinking about it makes me hot. Not hot as in sexy hot—okay yes, that too—but mostly embarrassed.

I shouldn’t have done that.

His words are seared inside my memory and will be for life.

What was I thinking?

As if a guy like Atlas would be interested in a girl like me. Not even for a quick dirty night. I mean I turned up at his million-dollar penthouse in a fifty-dollar dress and offered myself to him.

Dumb.

Dumb.

Dumb.

Then he started with the pityI’ll call you tomorrow.

Jesus.

My parents would be so ashamed of me. Not that I would ever,ever,tell them. Of course. It’s hardly dinner conversation.

Atlas messaged me a few times while I was in London. I guess he wanted me to keep what happened between us private given Payton and Knox are marrying.

He has nothing to worry about.

But I secretly liked that he might be squirming.

Then as more messages came through I felt a little confused. I landed on the belief that he was just looking to finish off what we started.

Let’s chat. Sober. I’d love to see you again.

Translation: I don’t fuck drunk, stoned women.

Ugh.

If I wasn’t Payton’s bridesmaid I’d never have to see him again. Instead the universe is punishing me. I’ll be spending a long (and I mean long!) weekend with the Montgomery family over Thanksgiving.

Which is in three days.

Perhaps Atlas wants to clear the air and make sure there won’t be a repeat performance. I can reassure him that over the past two months I have not thought about him at all.

Liar.

Then I realize he might have a girlfriend who didn’t attend his birthday. I’ve had nightmares imagining all the beautiful wealthy women who might be at Payton’s wedding. After all, she is marrying one of the wealthiest bachelors in the United States.

Atlas himself another.

Payton comes from a wealthy family—her father is a judge—so it makes sense she would fit right in with the Montgomery’s.

Me? Not so much.

I come from a very middle-class American family who thinks getting takeout on a weeknight is luxurious.

I’m so out of his league.

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