Trusting You

PROLOGUE THREE MONTHS AGO A night at the bar, several tequila sunrises, and a gorgeous guy staring at me from across the room … how could I resist? Talking became flirting, flirting became touching, and then the touching led me to where I was now. There were only a couple more hours until the first rays of sunshine would alert the coming of dawn. I was angry with myself for letting things go too far with the man sleeping soundly off to my side. How could I be so stupid yet love everything I did? Sleeping with random men was not something I would ever do, and definitely not something I should be doing now. I was twenty-eight years old and already divorced from my college love, who made the mistake of sleeping with our w***e of a neighbor. She’d spread her legs for anyone. Daniel just couldn’t resist, and of course I couldn’t resist divorcing him when he begged me to give him another chance. Marrying him was a mistake, and I couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to think he would stay faithful. After all, I had known of his reputation as a wealthy playboy. He pursued me with a vengeance and I fell hard. Shame on me once, never twice. After our divorce was final, my friends decided it was time I celebrated … and boy did I celebrate. We went out to bars every weekend and I dated many different men, which soon became tiring; they were either too wrapped up in themselves or complete douche bags. I had yet to find a man that was completely interested in who I was, and took the time to put my needs first. At least, until my gaze met the handsome stranger’s from across the room of the bar whose bed I now occupied. My lover for the evening had drifted off to sleep not long after we spent the night rolling around the sheets. Even though he was a one night stand, he sure knew every way possible to make my body scream for his touch; it was intoxicating. It shocked me, but I indulged in the reckless fun for that short amount of time. I felt more wanted and desired in those hours of s*x than I had the entire time I was married. My ex was a good lover, but nothing compared to the passion and heat of the man off to my right. He was sleeping on his stomach, the n***d flesh of his back exposed to the moonlight drifting in through the window. His muscled arm was curled under his pillow and his breathing was light and relaxed … so peaceful, and perfect. Even in his sleep he was one of the most handsome men I’d ever laid eyes on. No, I scolded silently to myself. He may appear perfect, but I knew better than to fall into the trap of good looks and a charming smile. I will not be fooled again. Slowly slipping out of bed, I gathered up my clothes that were strewn on the floor and quietly put them on, trying my best not to make any sound. I ran my fingers through my auburn waves, but gave up when all I felt were knots. It was going to be a b***h to brush out when I got home. Before I snuck out of the bedroom, I took one last look at the man who had been the most aggressive and passionate lover I’d ever had. His dark, tousled hair was mussed up from my relentless tugging, and his closed eyes hid the sparkling gray color that glowed the entire time he ravished my body. I must say … I didn’t regret what had happened with this man, and if I had the chance I’d probably do it again. He lived in a swanky condo in downtown Charlotte which I knew had to cost a fortune. Then again, my experience with wealthy men was tainted by my ex-husband … although, this man was nothing like my ex. It was clear he had money, but he never gloated about it when we talked at the bar. It was refreshing to talk to a man who was confident enough not to brag about himself the whole night. However, no one was perfect and I knew he had to be far from it. Shutting the bedroom door with a quiet click, I grabbed my purse off of the kitchen table and started to tiptoe to the front door, but stopped. Pulling out a piece of paper in my purse, I scribbled my number on it and laid it on the kitchen table. What am I doing? I stared at the paper lying there and immediately thought of one word … desperate. And desperate was something I was not. Snatching the paper off of the table, I crumpled it in my hand. The guy was probably a player just like all the other men I’d come across. What made him so special that I’d give in and lower my guard? Nothing, my mind screamed at me. Jamming the crinkled paper into my purse, I tiptoed quietly to the front door and slipped out silently. There was one thing for certain, and my heart hated me for it. I wasn’t going to forget what happened tonight or the lover that made me o****m more times in just a few hours than I had in the past year. The ache between my legs was going to remind me for the next couple of days what went on during this raging night of passion. As I sauntered into the elevator, my body screamed for me to go back. It wanted me to indulge in another round of a s*x induced high with the man that had me panting for him like no other. Except, I couldn’t go back … my heart wouldn’t let me.