Page 442 of One More Kiss

VADA

Wakingup with hard muscles against my body shocks the shit out of me. Making sure I’m not still dreaming, I slowly peel open my eyes. I don’t recognize the room as the sun peeks through the windows, but I can tell it’s early morning. This isn’t the same room we started in last night. But I don’t have much time to analyze it because when memories start flooding in, my cheeks heat. All the things he did to me, all the ways he molded my body, and the way I responded to them. Holy shit. Yes, we did that. No, I don’t have any regrets.

Nerves take over as I think about sneaking out and doing the walk of shame. I haven’t had to face a one-night stand since my early college days, so I feel completely disoriented. It’s not like I can just leave and avoid him anyway, but the anxiety of facing him has me overthinking everything.

However, the weight of Ethan’s bicep holds me in place. There’s no way I can slip out of bed without waking him. As if he heard my thoughts, he hums against the shell of my ear and pulls me closer to him until my back presses against his warm, hard chest. Our bodies fit together like two jagged pieces of a puzzle that somehow line up perfectly. We both have our sharp edges, but somehow it works. His strong arms hold me like I’m his, and I can’t help but smile at the fantasy of it all—because that’s what it is—make believe. We’ve both agreed that this isn’t anything more than sex and a good time.

Though I write sex scenes in descriptive detail in my novels, this morning, I have no words. That’s something that doesn’t happen often. Me, speechless? Yep. Being with him was exhilarating, to say the least. We’re adults who are obviously missing something in our lives. Last night, Ethan made me realize exactly what I’ve been missing, unadulterated sex with no attachments.

One-night stands are not in my sexual repertoire. Too many times I’ve overly romanticized relationships, but the men I’ve dated were basically worthless, so there’s that. No man has been able to live up to the expectations as the ones I write—alpha males, smart, loyal, perfect. After all my failed relationships, I’m fairly certain my perfect real-life hero doesn’t exist, and if he does, I’m sure he’s taken.

“Morning,” Ethan says in a husky, deep tone against the crook of my neck. Goose bumps travel along my skin as he slides his hand across my bare stomach. I turn my head as his honey-colored eyes flutter open.

“Morning,” I say, happy it’s not as awkward as I imagined it’d be. Then again, knowing this is purely physical without any strings attached helps. I can open my heart for a few days then seal it back tight before I get back to Chicago as if nothing ever happened. My secret will stay in South Carolina, and Ethan will be my perfect sexspiration.

“Coffee?” I ask, ready to get my day started. Just as I scoot away from him to place my feet on the floor, he pulls me back to face him.

“Not so fast,” he says with a sexy smirk on his lips.

My heart feels as if it will beat right out of my chest. Ethan rolls over, his face hovering above mine.

“Don’t think I’m going to stop giving you shit just because I fucked your brains out.” He winks, and I know for certain nothing has changed.

I laugh at his blunt confession and go along with it. “Honestly, I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I mock, just before he places a sweet, lingering kiss on my lips as his hand slides up my body and cups my breast. Folgers has nothing on Ethan Rochester. Morning sex is now the best part of waking up.

I sink into the taste of him, his hands exploring my body as our legs intertwine together and a noise from the hallway has us parting.

“Shit,” he whispers.

He turns his body just as the door swings open. Scrambling, I quickly pull the sheet up to my chin as I stare at an older woman with salt and pepper hair, and a soft, sweet face. Her cheekbones are high, and I can tell she was really beautiful when she was younger, but time has been good to her. She makes eye contact with me then looks over at Ethan who gives no fucks that he’s naked. The sheet covers the lower half of his body and instead of trying to hide from her, he places his hands behind his head.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” he says to her with a sly smile on his lips, and something about their expressions makes me think this isn’t the first time this woman has caught him in bed with someone.

She crosses the room and smacks him across the head. “I know your mama taught you some manners. Now you gonna introduce us or what?”

My cheeks burn, and I’m shocked as she reaches her arm across Ethan’s naked body to shake my hand.

“Honey, my name is Millie. I’m Ethan’s favorite aunt.”

“My only aunt.” Ethan snorts.

I grab her hand in mine and shake it, making sure to keep my breasts covered. “I’m Vada.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Vada. Sorry, my inconsiderate nephew forgot his manners this morning. Must have had a late night.” She looks him up and down. “Get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t keep me waitin’.”

Millie turns and gives me a sweet smile before leaving the room. I can hear the stairs creak with each step she takes.

“What the hell was that?” I ask with a nervous laugh, pulling the sheets tighter against my naked body.

He turns toward me and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling my body to his. “Sorry, that’s Aunt Millie. She likes to come over unannounced sometimes. But usually there’s not a woman in my bed, so I’m sure I’ll have some explainin’ to do.” He grins, pressing a quick kiss against my cheek. “Get dressed and meet us downstairs. I’m pretty sure she’ll be cooking something, and Aunt Millie doesn’t like it when people let her food get cold. Don’t get on her bad side this early in the day. She’s a grudge holder.” Ethan winks at me before slipping on a pair of jogging pants and leaving me alone in his room.

I sit quiet and still and can hear her muffled voice along with Ethan’s. Scanning the room, I search for my clothes and remember they were in the other room. Wrapping the sheet around my body, I hurry down the hall, open the door, and find them in a crumpled pile on the floor. I tiptoe across the worn wooden boards and glance over and see Wilma staring at me with her judgmental cat eyes. Each time I look at her, I think of my Oliver at home. He’s a long-haired Siamese I rescued a few years ago. Most of the time, he’s the only thing I talk to during the day. He’s pretentious, but I think Wilma may have him beat on many other levels.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I whisper-hiss at her. “I’m not peeing on your territory.”

Her tail flicks a few times before she turns around and prances down the stairs. I can hear the bell on her collar ring out, almost mocking me.

After I slip on my clothes, I find the bathroom and wash my face and freshen up. I’m sure more than enough time has passed beyond just getting dressed, but I try to work up the courage to face them both downstairs as if nothing happened between us. But considering his aunt now saw us naked in his bed, there’s no story that can cover up what happened last night. Oh, God. I wrinkle my nose. Does his room smell like sex and shame?

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