Page 13 of If You Could Only Imagine
I almost dropped to my knees and proposed.
Chapter 7
Denise~
My eyes snapped open, and I immediately knew it was all bad.
My eyes were not greeted by the familiar smoky blue hue that covered my bedroom walls. They weren’t greeted by the north facing window that always teased a little sunlight into my room. And the rest of me was not nestled in the comfort of cheap retail store cotton sheets.
Nope.
My body was cradled in a billion thread Egyptian cotton sheets. A luxury I’m sure I could afford if I wanted to eat noodles and crackers for six months.
No. My eyes snapped open to dark grey walls, sliding glass doors that led to a balcony I contemplated throwing myself from and the magnificence of expensive dark blue sheets.
And the weight of a very masculine, tattooed arm around my waist.
My naked waist.
I closed my eyes and let guilt’s assault pummel me.
How could I have been so stupid?
I wasn’t that girl. I swear, I wasn’t.
I was smart. I made good choices. I was driven and focused.
I did not do things that would lead me to wake up in Aiden Buchanan’s bed.
Except that Idid.
I did many things last night that I didn’t know my body was capable of, after doing all manner of things in my office.
Or maybe I should rephrase that to, I let Aiden do all manner of things to me last night that I didn’t know my body was capable of.
I spent weeks running from the man, only to end up where he wanted me all along, and fresh regret was coursing through my body in waves.
And I didn’t even have the excuse of drugs or alcohol to blame this disaster on. I was one hundred percent sober when I let me take me in my office.
I was one hundred percent sober when I agreed to let him take me home.
I was one hundred percent sober when I let him rip off my clothes and awaken my body with shit that had never, ever crossed my mind to try.
Aiden Buchanan was wicked in bed.
And now, how in the hell was I going to get out of here minus the morning after awkwardness? His arm was freakin’ heavy. How in the hell was I going to escape out from under it without waking him?
This was so bad.
Like calling out the wrong name in bed bad.
Except, I hadn’t called out the wrong name last night. I had called out the right one. Over, and over, and over again.
Aiden Buchanan was, hands down, the best penis I have ever met in my life, but…
Did I mention this was bad?
It was bad enough I let him screw me at work, but I actually willingly followed him home with the sole purpose of making more bad decisions.
