Morgan

Toothbrushes. One red, one blue. The cheap, free-dentist model served the sobering gut check I needed.

Last night's mask of perfection wasn't me. The physical reminders resurfaced like breaths of awareness, the caress of kisses between my thighs sweetened into suffocation, Jim's addictive praise became undeserved, and the warmth in his eyes burned with too much tenderness.

When I entered the hotel, I never thought I'd end up in a room, let alone overnight with a stranger. Stupidly, I hadn't packed medicine in my purse, but once the door clicked closed, the lust-desperate part of me didn't care.

His appreciative groan vibrated through my cunt, the sound enough to make me clench internally.

"Fucking obsessed with your sweetness." Another lick jolted me sensitive. A sinful smirk on his glossy wet lips, raised into view.

Under a lewd chorus of wet sounds, Jim feasted like I was his favorite flavor, his tongue licking and thrusting to its limits. His beard rubbed a halo of friction on my heated skin. The rush of pleasure was so fast, overwhelming me into oblivion.

"Ahh..." I shuddered through the orgasm and tapped out. "E-enough."

Pinpricks of pleasure blipped through me, followed by the feeling of floating out of my skin and white spots dancing in my vision. All were sensations I'd never felt before this man introduced us, sensations I didn't know I could feel, and now that I had...I had to leave.

"Morning."

Satisfaction soaked his coarse voice, sparking another craving through me. His dark brown hair was as wild as his wooly beard, looking as if I'd electrocuted the man, not the other way around.

A feral hunger burned his irises with a sinful heat, but it was tempered by...awe? His gaze made me feel naked and exposed, not hidden under his T-shirt.

He wasn't allowed to look at me like this. Gone was the cold detachment that drew my attention to the broody guy at the bar. One dance was all I wanted, but Jim's 'I hate life' aura resonated with my counterpart. He needed the stress relief as much as I did.

Yet, just like after every other orgasm he'd delivered, he didn't look at me like a one-night stand should—with growing affection for a person who hadn't given her real name.

Fuck, I needed to leave.

Balancing on corded arm muscles, his impressive physique covered me. Morning sunlight etched the ridges and valleys of his abs in highlights and shadows, and one roll of his hips proved that he was hard and huge against me. Again.

Again. His mouth descended on my neck, placing a contrast of hard sucks and the gentlest of kisses. The sharp stings made me moan, but the delicate flutters threatened to make me cry.

"Did you like the wakeup?" He hummed and settled his weight onto his elbows. "I did."

"Yes."

Needing to leave before I believed anything was actually between us – or worse, slipped under hyperglycemia – I rolled my head. The tranquilizer of pillowy kisses fell off my skin, followed by a sound of disapproval and the rough pads of his fingers gripping my cheeks. He angled my head and smashed his lips against mine. Tangy remnants of my release entered my mouth with the plunge of his tongue, along with—

I broke off another incredible, scorching kiss and pouted. "Do you know how many morning breath germs we just swapped?"

Like all of his admirable qualities, Jim wasn't supposed to laugh. Or order toothbrushes from the front desk, gaze at me in adoration, grasp my neck, and kiss me in a messy tangle of teeth, lips, and tongue.

"I don't fucking care." The possessive disrespect should've turned me off, but the micro blips igniting where he clutched my throat didn't care. "We've swapped everything else."

Except for the truth.

His slower kiss and expert hold swayed me weaker, followed by the promise, "I need you again."

"Shower?" I whispered.

My shaky smile dissolved when he obliged, sliding off and flashing the erection he intended to ruin my insides with. His stacked torso muscles twisted as he unwrapped the toothbrushes and coupled them in a glass.

"Go ahead. I, um, need a minute. So, I can...collect my vagina."

Jim flashed a deadly smirk with his insanely sculpted ass. The ass I couldn't believe I'd—Oh. I hadn't just clawed his back. The red crescent moons and drag lines flared a disarming amount of satisfaction in me.

Once he entered the bathroom, I found each abandoned shoe. My purse was open, tipped over, and halfway under the bed. He'd torn Paige's dress into a skirt, but I pulled it under his shirt and tied the sleeves like a failed fashion school assignment.

The room spun as I bent over, but I pushed through the dizziness. At the sound of splattering water, I did us both a favor and slipped out.

One step, and I winced. Holy, hello, soreness. Clit down. Ouch.

I tucked a shoe under each arm and tiptoed down the hall, my lady bits aching appreciative praises for Jim with each step. The luxury hotel was so out of my bank account balance. Last night's fundraiser signs were gone, but now wasn't the time to contemplate how I'd gotten into this situation.

Like a silent alarm, more lightheadedness punched my skull. I needed my shot before—

"Excuse me!"

As I jumped, I dropped my heels. One plonked onto my right foot. "Ouch." I glared at the apologetic gaze of a guy carrying two plastic bags.

Earbud strings poked out from his red hoodie, and rock music crackled between us. His lazy grin faltered into an apologetic smile. To my horror, he knocked on the door I'd escaped from.

With a quick scoop, I retrieved my shoes and sprinted. Elevator was—

"Taylor?" Jim called. "Hey, wait."

Jabbing the wall button was futile. I flew down the stairs, one bare foot stumbling after another. Thirteen floors challenged my growing headache. How had two drinks dehydrated me into an asthmatic?

"Prosecco, I thought we were friends," I grumbled, grasping the rail.

Low blood-sugar wooziness threatened to pull me under, but I reached the lobby. Leaning over, I panted until the elevator bell pinged. A herd of families pressed inside, Jim's frowning expression wedged behind them.

Nooooo. I dove for cover behind the front desk. The attendant stared at me as if I was insane because I was.

"Shh." I smushed a finger against my lips, cringing at having the worst mouth ick. What level of hypocrite was I, freaking out over a toothbrush?

As awful as leaving the man hard after he'd pleasured me.

Contrary to how I appeared, this scenario wasn't natural or sane for me.

"Uhh, hey."

Shit balls. It was Jim.

"Did you see a woman leave recently?" His raspy-confused voice renewed the interest between my legs. Many filthy, toe-curling things were spoken behind that wooly beard, dirtier word porn than my favorite discreet cover romance book male lead, and he was a reverse harem sex addict. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, short?"

I scowled. Everyone, including my average height, was vertically challenged compared to Jim's climbable mountain of muscular boulders, its seven-inch overhang capable of pushing my cervix higher than my lungs.

The shoe near me nudged my hip. "No, Mister Smith. I haven't seen anyone...mentionable."

Smith. I'd fucked a Smith? Couldn't get any more common than Jim Smith. I relaxed under the desk, which smelled like feet, sweat, and questionable life choices.

"Sir." For a hospitality worker, the desk dude carried more salt than the ocean. "Per hotel policy, shirts and shoes are required. Unless you require directions to the pool, in which I hope you're wearing a bathing suit under your towel, please return to your room."

A sigh huffed over the desk, followed by rustled movements. "If you see her, Jim, would you contact me? Her name is Taylor, and—Never mind."

Phew. I hadn't realized my 'Taylor, don't worry, this will be swift' moniker would precede an all-night fuck fest. And—Hold the elephant dick. The guy who wrecked me from every angle was Jim.

I didn't release my breath until desk-Jim's shoe nudged again. "Miss?"

"Is he gone?" Why was I whispering? Because I was an awkward as fuck hot mess.

"Yes." His hand stabilized my elbow, helping me stand as I hugged my shoes. "I've called you a ride, Miss. It's out front."

"Thank you."

Heat filled my cheeks. Bowing my head, as much as I wanted to apologize, I wouldn't see either Jim again. My cracked heart agreed with my racing pulse.

Best I stuck to my books.