Page 64 of Dirty Fighter

I wake alone… and it’s morning.

Jason must have gotten up a while ago because the sheets are cool beside me.

I brace for the dread to hit. The awareness that I’ve done something I can’t undo. The fear of repercussions, named and unnamed and…

There’s nothing.

Nothing but the gentle falling rain in the dim morning light and this dawning sense of amazement over the events of the past three days.

Okay, and a deep and abiding wish that my phone worked so I could call Jill.

Because Jason Stanvic gives good escape.

Like life-changing, earth-shattering, enthusiastically-making-you-reevaluate-your-entire-existence-to-this-point level good.

So good that midway through his proving just exactly how much I’ve been missing via his goodbye kiss, “Just this once” somehow became “Just at the cabin.”

Jason’s savage sound of agreement followed by something about me being the sweetest thing he ever tasted… and making me come two more times in rapid succession… suggests he was cool with it too.

And as if orgasms on demand weren’t enough, when he collapsed beside me, instead of immediately getting up after, so he could take a shower, he wrapped a big arm around my waist to pull me in so that my back was against the solid heat of his chest. He kissed my shoulder, simple and sweet. And the last thing I remember before drifting off was his deep voice at my ear. “Just let me hold you a minute.”

It felt so easy. Perfect.

And now there is no small part of me hoping that I’m not the only one regret-free and living my best life.

Rifling around in my bag, I find a pair of leggings but cast them aside when I realize that the scrape on my leg isn’t actually as painless as I thought. Instead, I pull on a pair of blue flowered sleep shorts that shouldn’t catch on the bandage and a long-sleeve tee before padding out front.

There’s a fire going, and the air is warm and fragrant from the logs crackling within. But I’m more interested in Jason, who’s standing shirtless in the kitchen, one arm braced against the counter, muscles upon muscles flexing as he writes something.

“Morning,” I say, trying to sound normal but probably landing a little closer to breathless-invitation meets are-we-good?

He looks up, straightening slowly as he looks me over appreciatively… which is not terrible at all.

“Beautiful morning,” he says, despite the gray skies and falling rain, the sweetness of his crooked smile making my belly flip.

He looks like he might come to meet me but then stops, leans a hip into the counter and crosses one long leg over the other at the ankle. And I wonder if he’s feeling as uncertain as I suddenly am.

Probably not. This man is a professional athlete and has undoubtedly dated movie stars and supermodels and women with the muscle tone and flexibility of someone out of Cirque du Soleil. A casual hookup strolling out of his room is undoubtedly a familiar scenario. For him.

And he does not need to know that for all my big talk about wanting an escape and him proving that he knows how to deliver one… this is the first time I’ve ever had sex with a man I wasn’t in a relationship with. Which means confidence.

I close the distance between us and hop on the counter all casual-like. “So… not exactly how I saw yesterday going. You?”

He laughs, head back, deep and real and everything I need to let go of the insecurities stemming from the whole actually-my-first-rodeo thing.

“Oh, yeah. Exactly how I saw it going.” His hip bumps against the outside of my knee, and his hand slides onto the counter beside my other hip. My space and his become ours as naturally as breathing. “Just like this.”

I roll my eyes, loving every word. Every second.

“Except for this part.” He’s looking down at the bandage on my leg.

He’s such a big man. And his strength is incredible. But when his finger skims an inch below the scrape, his touch is feather-light. “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” I admit, taking his hand in mine, meaning to give it a reassuring squeeze. But somehow he threads our fingers together instead.

I swallow, and clarify, “Not bad though. I promise.”

Nod. “How about some food to keep your strength up? Bacon and eggs?”