Page 50 of Savage Promises

I shake that ridiculous assertion away. Nothing about Shane Quinlan is ever peaceful. Even in sleep, there’s tension to him, a coiled energy that draws me closer to absorb his power.

The sight of him jolts a shiver down my spine as the memory forms behind my eyes. His hands on my shoulders, steadying me as I humped him. His voice, low and rough, calling me a whore while I got off rubbing my pussy against his dick.

His long, thick,harddick.

Hardfor me.

I look down and my nipples have stiffened to aching peaks all over again.

I loved being called a whore apparently. My brilliant response? Riding his hand until I came like some drunk amateur.

My stomach twists as I tiptoe closer to the sofa that looks dwarfed compared to Shane. He’s well over six feettall with broad shoulders, massive biceps, and thick thighs.

Guilt mingles with the humiliation of him having to sleep on a sofa because he possibly didn’t trust me. The weight of shame lodges deep in my chest until I can’t breathe. What kind of mess did I make last night?

No, no, no.

I whirl around, needing to disappear before he wakes up. My bare feet against the soft carpet aid my silent retreat back into the bedroom. I want to get the hell out of here, but I’m here because I had nowhere to go.

My aching head and the nausea rolling through me are impossible to ignore, too. I lower to the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands again. What the hell is wrong with me?

Shane turned me down.Again.

But I should be grateful. He could have taken advantage of me.

His words sharply echo in my brain.

As if any man could handle fucking you once. Not me. You crawl into my lap and think I won’t lower my pants and slide my cock into your wet heat, drunk or not? That I won’t pin you beneath me and fuck you senseless? Ignoring your cries to stop?

My God, I didn’t just humiliate myself. I made things impossibly complicated.

I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s just past seven a.m. Too early to text Mara for advice, but maybe I can sneak out and ambush her at the gym.

The sound of movement in the living room stops me cold. My heart leaps into my throat as footsteps approach the bedroom, slow and deliberate. The door creaks open, a whine to taunt my soul.

I blink and there he is, filling the frame like some dark avenging angel coming to claim the sinner I am. Shane’s deep auburn hair is mussed, his shirt wrinkled, but hiseyes are clear as they lock on mine.

“You’re awake,” he says, his voice rough with concern.

“I am.” I lick my dry lips and swallow before I can continue. “Barely.”

He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. “How’s the head?”

“Pounding,” I admit, avoiding his gaze. “Thanks for asking.”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “I’ll call downstairs for aspirin. There’re bottles of water on the kitchen counter.”

I blink, thrown off by his calmness, the smoothness of his voice. I expected him to be furious at me. Start lecturing me about my behavior last night, but he seems...unaffected.

Like he doesn’t care.

Ho hum, just another day where a woman gets naked in his lap.

His sharp dismissal stings.

“Shane,” I say, seeing red behind my eyes. “About last night—”

“Don’t,” he cuts me off with a firm tone that signals to drop it.

---