Ashamed.
I was so ashamed of myself for letting him near me—for letting him touch me. What the f**k was wrong with me? Why would I let him, a complete stranger, touch me like that?
I remember the way he tore himself off me—the way he refused to look at me and the way he basically threw me out of his room.
With a groan, I bang my head against the island, embarrassed. How could I be so weak? How could I be so naïve? What were you going to do Aurora, give yourself to the first man who touches you?
I wasn’t sure I had the willpower to stop him if he had wanted to. Because as ashamed as I am of myself right now, I knew that I wanted him just as much as he didn’t—well, until he didn’t—until he launched himself across the room like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
I slept on the co
