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A pressure rose up beneath my ribs and moved all the way down my stomach, settling between my thighs. It was a hungry pressure, desperate to be satisfied, and as fantastic as his tongue was, I wanted Alex inside of me.
“Up here,” I muttered under my breath while my fingers tugged at the strands of his hair.
Alex tilted his head up and gave the cheekiest of smiles, and then I dug my fingers into his shoulders and lifted him over me. He crawled up until our stomachs met.
I opened my legs, shifting them up for Alex to move inside of me, and gasped loudly when he did. He pushed deeper into me, slowly at first and, when my body released, he sped up.
There was a brief moment where it felt like we were missing something, something major, but then Alex kissed me so deeply, his hand pressing up against my left breast, squeezing tenderly, and I forgot all about that thought.
It drifted away like a paper boat on a swooshing stream of rainwater.
His mouth was on my neck, his hips pounding against mine while I groaned and whimpered. He spun me around, flipping us over until he was on his back and then he pushed into me again, his hands skating over my stomach and around to the small of my back, his fingertips tracing my spine.
We kept going like that. I was riding Alex, rocking my hips against his as he pounded harder into me, his hands indecisive on where they wanted to be, moving from my hips up to my back and sliding forward to my breasts.
That lovely pinch from earlier swelled like a balloon and when Alex thrust harder, faster, and deeper all at once, I unraveled, every thread holding me up falling away. He came a moment later and, when I collapsed beside him—the mattress so soft and cozy—I imagined sleeping, or more so, I welcomed it.
Alex turned onto his side, crossed his legs, and draped an arm over my stomach. “I did not expect this when I crashed into the back of your car.”
“So, you admit it was your fault?”
He laughed and fell back, still keeping his arm draped over me.
The brightest light shone through my closed eyelids.
Blinking, I opened them slowly and winced. My head was pounding like someone was driving a jackhammer right through the center. Not to mention my stomach was roiling and the stale remnant of wine coated my tongue and teeth.
Pressing my hand to my forehead, I looked to the balcony. Sheer curtains blew in the breeze and the rush of water sat somewhere in the background. A shower perhaps— I suddenly froze. Everything from last night came back in a torrent of images. The restaurant; flirting with Alex; that first touch; that last one. It all came back so fast that I felt sick.
I had sex with Alex. I’m the idiot who had sex with an orthopedic surgeon at a medical seminar. The same surgeon who crashed into my car.
Sitting up, I scanned the room. It was identical to mine, but it wasn’t mine. It was too tidy. In the far right-hand corner, where a chair was pushed up against the wall, were a pair of Oxford shoes and a suit draped neatly over the back.
Was that the same suit Alex had worn last night?
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, well aware that I was still completely naked, I bent down to pick up my panties and bra when something nagged at me. Something about last night that I should’ve remembered. And then, out of nowhere, it hit me like an avalanche. For the second time in a space of two minutes, my body tensed so fiercely I could feel the muscles pull tight in my neck.
We hadn’t used a condom. Why the hell hadn’t we used a condom?
And then I remembered Alex and his soft lips and the way he had cupped my breast, his thumb flicking my nipple—I couldn’t remember when last anyone had touched me that generously—and I’d been so distracted, so absorbed . . . And a little drunk.
It was fine. No problem.
Weren’t there like five fertile days in every month? I had my period just the other day. I wasn’t at risk. It was all fine. Nothing to worry about.
The rush of water suddenly stopped. A glass door opened, and then I could hear Alex cough and my heart went into overdrive.
Last night was a mistake. It didn’t matter how good it felt, how good Alex was. It didn’t matter that I enjoyed talking to him, laughing with him, or that behind that serious first impression was a man who joked, who smiled, who probably had a good heart.
I was the problem. I wasn’t the type of woman who had one-night stands at fancy lodges, especially when I should’ve been the upstanding physical therapist my boss wanted me to be, needed me to be. Besides, I wasn’t the casual type. I needed days, weeks of getting to know someone before I even dared to climb into bed with them.
Last night wasn’t like me at all. Last night I’d become an infatuated, drunk, possibly giddy version of myself, and I was sure I’d spend weeks trying to forget she ever existed.
I quickly shrugged my dress on, found my heels beneath the dresser, and tiptoed to the door. I opened it softly while I kept an ear to the bathroom. Alex was brushing his teeth. Good. It gave me more than enough time to get out of here—not just this room but the lodge itself, the seminar.
And that was exactly what I did.
CHAPTER 6
