Page 1 of Running from Drac

Part One

What happens in

…follows you home

Chapter One

Amber

I wake up smelling my infidelity before anything else. There’s a brisk scent of man in the air—that musky smell when sweat meets cologne and the two are at war. It invades my nose before I even have a chance to open my eyes.

That was my first clue that I screwed up.

Eddie never smells like this. If anything, my fiancé smells like grease monkey ball sweat. No joke. It’s the bad part of falling for a Gearhead. He constantly smells like grease, even after showering.

If enjoying the pretty man scent isn’t bad enough, my next clue is the massive bicep I’m using as a pillow. Eddie may be muscular, but this firm yet soft arm pillow is way too muscly to be my fiancé’s.

Goddamn, this bicep is way too comfortable. And why is my body fitting against him like a long-lost piece of a puzzle that disappeared from the puzzle box? Those pieces are supposed to be lost and never found.Yet here I am, attachingmyself to a complete stranger, finding spaces to fill against him that match every curve I have.

I must be drunk.

That’s the only logical explanation for having any kind of enjoyment out of this cheating, traitorous moment I’m currently stuck in.

My body stills as the mysterious stranger stirs beneath me. I’m draped over him, my long blonde hair fans across his chest while my arms tuck perfectly against his torso. A single white sheet is all that separates me from seeingallllof him. Though it doesn’t do much for the massive erection he’s sporting. That’s definitely up, loud, and very fucking proud.

How did I even get here?

Everything from last night is a complete blur of neon lights, drinking, gambling, and constant partying. Now everything’s fuzzy, and my brain’s lingering in a weird hazy fog, like I’ve been drugged or something. So much for one last hurrah… because this is not what I had in mind when my two best friends kidnapped me and put me on the first plane to Vegas, promising me one last fun girls’ trip before walking down the aisle with Eddie.

Speaking of friends… the two of them must’ve ditched me last night.Those bitches!It’s their fault I got myself into this situation in the first place. I told them both I didn’t want to come to Vegas. But Pippa insisted, putting me on the first flight out of Reno even though she knows Eddie doesn’t approve.

His exact words when I told him I was going to Vegas with Poppy and Pippa were:“I don’t want my fucking fiancée whorin’ it up in the City of Sin like a cheap two-cent hooker. The only man who needs to look at you is me, Amber.”

I used to find his possessiveness sexy, but the more he pulls on the reins, the more I feel strangled. Even though thesuffocation sometimes feels extremely overwhelming, it will never outweigh the love I have for Eddie. That love lingers in every part of me, creating the havoc I’m currently fighting with every failing breath. Tears war with my eyes as the consequences of my actions start hitting me from all sides.

I royally fucked up.

Why did I even listen to them?

They insisted I needed to get out of Reno, saying I needed a break from school and to put some distance between Eddie and me after he openly admitted to cheating on me at the beginning of our relationship. Honestly, I knew they weren’t wrong.

I’ve been so wrapped up in trying to make Eddie happy and figure out why he cheated on me, while still trying to balance my schoolwork, that I never have time for myself, let alone time to do anything fun. But that doesn’t mean I wanted to cheat on him. I love Eddie! We’ve been together for five years. He was my first… well… everything… and we’re supposed to get married in a few months.

Why did I have to go and mess everything up?

I need to leave now before Mr. Perfect Erection gets the wrong idea.

Cautiously, I peel us apart, our sweat sticking together like icky maple syrup as I try to maneuver over the top of him, bypassing the wooden salute pole that’s lurking beneath the sheets, and hoping like hell I won’t wake him.

I fail miserably.

He grins as I move away.

Fuck, if I wasn’t already buck ass naked, my panties would have zero hope of living until tomorrow with that panty-shredding smile of his. That smile’s the equivalent of an undergarment weed whacker.

“G’day, love!” he says in an ovary-sucking, fine as fuck, Australian accent that’s so thick and sultry, it has me heating in places that shouldn’t be heated.

Down, girl… he’s just a man.