Hot Secrets book one TALL,DARK, and DEADLY Series

Chapter 4

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 Chapter Four

Lauren woke without opening her eyes, the aches in her body sending her a warning. Slowly, she forced her lids to lift. “Oh,” she moaned, hand going to her forehead. It was pathetic that the tiny amount of alcohol she’d consumed the night before had given her a hangover.

Shifting, hoping a new position would ease the pain growing in her head, she froze, memories of falling asleep in Royce’s arms flooding her mind. The realization that she was alone slammed into her like a concrete wall. “I’m such a fool,” she whispered. Of course he was gone. Of course he’d left without even a word. She’d all but thrown herself on him, and good gosh, she must have made a fool of herself, because he hadn’t even taken full advantage of her willing state.

She pressed herself to a sitting position, an action that made her lightheaded, but the true pain was her humiliation. Royce Walker had given her a pity orgasm. If that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing in the world, then what was?

Her brows dipped, her nostrils flaring with an unexpected scent. Coffee. She smelled coffee. How could she smell coffee? Was this some odd, hangover trick of her senses? And then it hit her. Royce. Royce was here and he’d made coffee. A mixture of relief, pleasure, and then panic washed over her. Her gaze went to the barely cracked doorway. He was out there. Royce was in her living room. Oh good gosh, how was she going to face that man knowing she had all but begged him to have his wicked way with her? Life had suddenly taken a path to full frontal embarrassment.

She looked down and realized she was still wearing her dress from the night before. She swallowed hard. And she had no panties on. They were out there, in the living room, with Royce, the man who’d taken them off of her. She pressed her hand to her face. She had to do something, had to change clothes. Yes. Change clothes.

Lauren shoved aside the blanket covering her, fighting the throb of her head, and rushed to her closet. She quickly tugged her favorite long red silk robe off the hook inside the door and slipped it over her dress. It wasn’t much, but it was extra coverage, extra armor. She cringed. How was putting on a silk robe which amounted to a piece of lingerie helping her situation? She tore the robe off and threw it to the ground. She didn’t want to look bedroom ready and a robe was bedroom ready.

She was about to head to the door when her gaze caught on her image in the mirror above her dresser, and she quickly brushed fingers through the wild mass of her hair. Her mascara was smudged, her lipstick gone, her general appearance that of someone who’d drank too much and slept too little. She fought the urge to go fix her face, not wanting to seem too affected by this man, like she’d primped for him, even though she wanted to.

She shook herself, told herself to calm the heck down. Maybe the scent of coffee was her imagination, a post drinking, post orgasm, morning after fantasy that she’d conjured from a deep craving for a caffeine IV. Or maybe Julie had come by to get the gossip on Royce. Julie! Yes! She had a key. Julie was here, not Royce.

She laughed at herself, ignoring the disappointment in her stomach, and rushed to the bedroom door but still didn’t yank it open. Instead, she eased into a position where she could peek outside, scanning the empty living room through the crack, and bringing the dining area into focus. And that was when her breath lodged in her throat.

Royce was sitting at the kitchen table, looking quite comfortable and at home while laughing at something he was reading in the paper. His jacket and tie were gone, a few buttons on his shirt were undone, and he’d rolled his sleeves up to display his powerful forearms, one of which flexed as he raised his coffee cup to his too full, too sensual mouth. The one that had done so many wonderful things to her, that she wanted him to do again.