Page 16 of The Promises We Break

I follow the rise and fall of his chest, as he takes in slow relaxed breaths, before trailing my eyes up the column of his throat. I can see his pulse protest through his skin in steady beats as mine begins to race.

Oh. My. God.

For the past two days, I couldn’t stop the perpetual memories of our flight invading my mind. I left because I had to. He issodangerous. To my willpower. To my resolve. But now, I’ve ended up in his bed, proving both of those characteristics in me totally suck. I slam my face back into the pillow with a groan.

Slowly rolling out of the bed, I’m unaware that I am completely naked until the frigid air of the hotel air conditioning hits me with the power of a pressure washer.

I. am. naked.

I pull the comforter from the bed, yanking the fabric that’s fighting to stay glued to the goddamn bed frame. Finally, it frees, and I slide it off the bed, separating it from the sheet that was covering Hudson. Also, the thinnest sheet in the entire world, that now only covers Hudson’s hips and thighs, but partially see-through as it frames his impressively sized dick.

A flashback of a neon green g-string covering another enormous piece of meat glints through my mind, and I cover my hands over my face in absolute horror, recalling being pulled onto the stage by Kilo.

Another wave of cinnamon hits my nostrils as I pull my palms down to investigate. Realization dawns on me that I probably never washed my hands after the strip club.

So gross.

The wave of nausea that hits me is not from the thought of questionable germs on my hands, but from the small, shiny tinfoil wrapped around the ring finger on my left hand.

I squint as I examine the foreign band on my finger, flipping my hand back and forth, back and forth.

The stage. The dance. Cheers and people shouting.Elvis. Wedding bells. And Big Red gum wrappers that we magically turned into origami sheets to make wedding bands.

“What the hell!” bellows out of me unexpectedly. I not only scare myself, but Hudson, too; his arms fly up over his head, like he was preparing for an incoming attack.

I grab the comforter that’s wrapped around me with my right hand as I wave my left hand in Hudson’s direction.

“We got married?!” I scream as both a question and a statement.

Hudson looks around disoriented, one eye squeezed shut, the other hardly open. Then he brings the base of his palms into his eyelids with a long breathy groan. Another memory hits me as the sounds of Hudson’s voice seize my brain.

“I’ve thought of nothing but you since I saw you on that plane.”

“I can’t wait to have your tight pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“You look good in my bed.”

“Come for me, little red.”

My breath quickens as panic truly sets in. I take a few unsteady steps back, hitting a wall, and I slump down into myself. Wrapping my arms around my legs, pressing them closer to my chest, and I drop my head down to my knees.

The rustling of the bedsheets doesn’t lift my gaze. Only when I feel his hand cup my cheek do I peer up to look at him.

“Hey.” He tucks my hair behind my ear and lifts my chin. His hair is savagely wild, and his jawline is peppered with a stubble that wasn’t there yesterday.

“We’ll figure this out,” he says softly. His brows pinch together, painfully, probably from the looming hangover that proceeds us both, as well as the devastated redhead currently freaking out in his room.

I give him my best and forced, tight-lipped smile that lacksconviction in his statement. A slight squint meets his eyes before they widen.

“Your boyfriend,” he whispers out loud, closing his eyes as regret blankets his face.

“Who? Huh? My—What boyfriend?” My reply is defensive and abrasive.

“Fuck. We’ll fix this. We’ll fix this today.” He stands, grabbing a small decorative pillow to cover himself. He turns around, the hard round globes of his ass cheeks on full display, and so goddamn sexy, I might add, as he walks toward the en suite.

Pressing into the wall, I push myself up to stand.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I say it like it’s a disease. Why would he say that?

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