Page 329 of The Tempted

Chapter Seven

I think I’m dead or maybe I’m in a coma. I’m most definitely not a functioning human right now. I wish I would’ve stayed in nursing school, at least I’d be able to diagnose myself. It’s a scary thought, fighting with everything you have to open your eyes, not knowing why it’s a struggle in the first place.

Then I remembered.

Alcohol. Lots of it.

Mia leaving me.

Texting Riggs.

Riggs showing up at the Salty Dog.

Riggs taking me back to his clubhouse.

Riggs kissing me.

And that’s it, my last memory. It’s a good memory too. He’s a pretty awesome kisser.

Focus, Lauren.

I groaned as my eyes finally fluttered open. My head was killing me and I had a serious case of dry mouth. I tried to lift myself, to sit upright, but the room spun. Not really feeling like playing “Dorothy,” I left my ruby slippers at home, I dropped my head back onto the pillow.

Something stirred beside me but before I could turn to see the critter moving, a hand wrapped around my midsection, pulling me across the bed. My eyes widened as I turned and saw Riggs beside me. He mumbled something into his pillow and I held my breath, waiting for him to open his eyes and release me but that never happened. Instead, he snored, and draped his thick leg over mine. His thick, naked leg, might I add. I pinched the edge of the sheet, about to lift it and peek under it to assess the damage when I felt something long and hard poke my thigh.

Oh, hello, little Riggs.

Although, little was the wrong word to describe the erection digging into me. I suppressed the urge to reach under the sheet and wrap my hand around him to size him up.

I closed my eyes and prayed for the coma to take me again. Yeah, no such luck.

Finally, finding the nerve I lifted the sheet and saw I was wearing a t-shirt that read “I’d Rather Be Naked.” How fitting.

At least I had my underwear on.

“Go back to sleep,” he mumbled, startling me and I snapped my head in his direction.

“You’re up?” I asked, my voice squeaking like a chipmunk.

“No,” he replied with his eyes closed.

“Riggs, you need to move. I have to get up. I have to get out of here,” I rambled nervously.

“No, not moving,” he grunted stubbornly, as his hands traveled under the hem of the t-shirt.

“Oh God,” I groaned.

“You said that a lot last night,” he murmured, as fingers grazed my belly.

My eyes widened and my cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“We didn’t…I mean of course we didn’t, right?” I asked, swallowing hard and praying for the right answer. If we had sex, and I didn’t remember I’d hate myself.

I probably should’ve been thinking something nobler, something purer, like please God forgive me for having sex before marriage or something just as ridiculous. But me? I was kicking myself in the ass because if we had sex, and I forgot what his cock felt like inside of me, I’d never forgive myself.

His eyes opened halfway and locked with mine.

“What’s the matter, Kitten? Can’t remember?” he said, huskily.

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