Page 49 of Centering Kaos

I’m a whore.

A disgusting, horrible whore.

My gaze snagged on Kaos. Lying there in all his naked glory, his body on full display for my viewing pleasure, he looked like some kind of Greek god. The kind women were helpless to resist. My attention went straight to his cock, which was currently sporting some serious morning wood. Had he been like that when I rolled off him? Holy crap! How did he not impale me on that thing? It was enormous—really—at least twice the size of Matt’s.

Maybe that was why Matt was always so angry. The little dick energy was real with that one.

A giggle bubbled up my throat.

Was I still drunk?

I gave Kaos’s perfect body one last lingering look, wishing things were different. Wishing I’d never met Matt. Only without Matt, there’d be no Dylan, and I didn’t even want to consider a reality without my boy.

Holy crap this was a mess. My life was a forest fire, and no matter how I tried to control it, I kept adding fuel to the flames. Last night, I was out of my mind when I’d climbed those stairs. Lonely, weary, and drunk, I’d dropped my guard and let myself feel… hopeful. For what, I still didn’t know. But Kaos had been shirtless, and the sight of his bare chest would tempt even the purest of nuns. And based on the way my gaze kept drifting south of his waist, I was no nun.

And that song he sang to me…

All that talk about pulling me close and keeping me safe had been too much. Nobody had offered to shield me before, and although I knew it was just some silly song, his intentions had felt so… real. My thoughts were a mess, condemning, and then excusing my behavior in circles. I needed to get out of there so I could properly evaluate the situation and determine what to do.

Clothes.

I needed my clothes. I started searching the room for them, and my knee popped. Loudly.

Kaos stirred.

I dropped to the floor, out of his line of sight, and held my breath. The instantaneous change in elevation sent invisible spikes through my pounding head, but I held my breath and squeezed my eyes closed against the pain. It ebbed, but still I waited, listening and praying Kaos wouldn’t wake up.

I wasn’t ready to face him yet.

Truth be told, I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready to face him again.

Therein lies the problem. How could I live with someone I couldn’t face?

I’d need to move, to find somewhere else to stay.

The thought of leaving him sent a searing hot arrow right through my chest. How on earth had I let him get so close? Even before we… um… took our relationship horizontal, I’d felt something for him. Now, that something felt out of control. Maybe if I put some space between us, I could get my emotions under control again. My gaze locked on the bed, I waited. No movement, no sound. Grateful to be in the clear, I naked army-crawled toward a piece of fabric that I suspected of being my shirt.

Naked. Army-crawled. Across the bedroom floor of a man I’d known for a week. While my son slept downstairs. That was the position my life choices had put me in.

I’m so going to hell for this.

Reaching the fabric, I snatched it up and started to put it over my head. The front fell open like a vest, because it had been ripped apart. Okay, I vaguely remembered that, too.

What were we? Animals?

It wasn’t like I had an abundance of clothing that he could just rip apart. But now that I thought about it, the memory of him literally ripping off my shirt sent little flickers of fire straight to my nether regions. Yes, apparently, I was an animal. In heat, even. Trying desperately to ignore my body’s reaction, I spied my shorts across the room and set out at a slow, quiet pace to retrieve them. I’d almost made it when the bed shifted.

I rolled, angling toward the space beneath the bed, but Kaos’s head popped down right in front of me, blocking my path and ripping a surprised scream from my throat.

Eyes wide, expression confused, he stared at me. “Um, what… What’s goin’ on, angel?” he asked.

Since I couldn’t very well sayI’m army crawling naked across your floor, I replied with a super intelligent sounding, “What do you mean?”

The side of his lips quirked. “You… you’re naked. And lying on my floor. Is something wrong with my bed?”

It was a perfectly reasonable question, but answering it would require admitting I’d previously been in his bed. I was kind of hoping he was too drunk to remember last night’s activities. “Aren’t you hungover?” I asked.

He cocked his head to the side and studied me like I was a complicated puzzle. “It was good booze and I’m a big guy. I’ve got a bit of a headache, but it’s not too bad. You?”

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