Page 49 of Savage Promises

I pace in the living room, my chest feeling like it’s being ripped in two. I strip off my tie, open my shirt, and remove my belt. I grab some paper towels from thekitchen and do my best to clean up. I’d love to be naked, too, curled up with her and my cock buried inside that crazy heat all night.

Although, I’ve never spent the night with a woman. All night. Same bed.

I choose to sleep on the sofa to be near Lennox so I can hear her if she’s crying in the middle of the night. The second bedroom is too far away. I kill the lights and lay there in the dark, my heart pounding. My mind replays this fucked up night while it’s still fresh.

Lennox climaxing on my fingers, my lap, her heated breaths, her moans, usbothcoming, and then her confession.

I love you, Shane...

The words ring in my ears and when I close my eyes, I see Lennox on top of me again. Jesus, that woman passed out in the next room is the devil. She put a spell on my dick because it wants her and I’m sure I won’t get hard for anyone ever again.

But I can’t have her.

Fighting to calm down, I slam my head into the sofa cushions and pray for sleep to claim me.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Lennox

My head pounds like a jackhammer, and my tongue feels like sandpaper against my teeth. The soft light filtering through the sheer gray curtains is a cruel joke, stabbing at my skull. I groan, pressing my hands to my forehead as I sit up.

Smacking my lips more, I taste the remnants of...

Tequila. The nectar of the devil.

And something else I can’t place.

Panic flickers in my chest. Where the hell am I?

I suddenly realize two things:

First, I’m not in my apartment. Rafael’s apartment. Right, he broke up with me. Cheated on me.

Second, I’m...naked.

I stretch, my skin sliding against the heavy cotton sheets, my thighs caught in a pillow. The bed is enormous and far more luxurious than anything I’ve ever slept in. The room is minimalist yet thoughtfully decorated by a professional.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, pressing my feet into the soft carpet. My mind is a fragmented mess of tequila shots, a hazy man’s sharp gaze, and... Oh God.

I freeze as the wicked and salacious memory slams into me.

Shane.

I sat on his lap and took off my bra. My nipples seize hard and fast at the memory of his touch. But my face burns with shame. Did I ask my sister’s fiancé to fuck me?

Did... Did he fuck me? I touch the tender flesh between my legs. I’m wet but not sore. Something tells me if Shane fucked me, I’d be sore and my skin would be on fire. He wouldn’t gently fuck me like it’sa secret. He’d rail me into tomorrow, making me scream his name so I never forgot the feel of his cock.

Could I survive that?

No.

That should make me feel better, but it only makes me feel worse.

I stand quickly, ignoring the way my head protests. My suitcase sits on the floor next to the dresser. I packed so quickly, that everything is a jumbled mess. I empty the thing to find enough to put together one outfit consisting of a bra, panty, leggings, and a T-shirt.

Dressed, I tentatively pad across the floor and push open the door to what I think is the living room.

My heart stops, seeing Shane sleeping on the sofa. Fully clothed. He’s stretched out under a blanket, one arm draped over his chest, the other hanging off the side. He looks...peaceful.

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