Page 2 of Running from Drac

A man who looks like a fucking angel.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man with eyes a vibrant shade of Spanish moss before, nor one with floppy bedhead that’s a seductive dirty blonde and has my fingers craving for a single rake through.

Those fingers are now imprisoned beneath my ass because if I let them loose, the crazy little tweakers will definitely seek out their follicle fix, fiancé be damned.

God, why can’t I remember anything about last night?

Stupid. I’m so fucking stupid.

“Um, good morning.” The heat of my cheeks is enough to warm a fireplace and heat up an entire house as the blanket moves, andallllof him presents itself to me.

He’s not only sexy but also very well-endowed.God blessed this man with everything, that’s for damn sure.

Don’t get me wrong, Eddie is fucking gorgeous, but whoever this man is, he had to have been born as a different species altogether… a sexy one I should’ve never indulged myself in.

My breath hitches when a soft, un-calloused hand brushes away the hair I’m so desperate to hide behind.

How odd it feels to be caressed by a hand that’s probably never seen a day of work in its life. Eddie has rough working hands. I should know, because I’ve memorized every callous and rough patch of skin on his palms, stitching them to memory over the years.

This man’s touch is like being caressed by pure satin. He smells like leathery soap or lotion, and there’s a hint of sandalwood cologne wafting off his skin as well. When he pullsaway, I find myself sniffing the air, searching out the lingering scent of forbidden man I somehow came in contact with in the last twenty-four hours.

“Last night was bloody unreal,” he says in that seductive accent again. He rakes his hand through his hair, this time exposing a sexy dragon tattoo that cascades down his left arm and shoots up and over his shoulder blade. It’s all black and white, and looks Japanese inspired. Part of me wants to ask him what it represents, but that seems too intimate, just like the gentle caress of his fingers that are rubbing soft circles on my thigh.

“It was?” I question nervously, moving out of his reach.

He must’ve found this funny, because the most seductive laugh belts out of him, making me want to move towards him instead of moving toward the door like I should.

“Too right it was, Amber. You were somethin’ else.”

Great, he remembers my name, but I have no idea who he is. What the hell, Amber?

“Do you want to get some brekkie? Bit of coffee, maybe?”

“I need to find my friends,” I say feebly as he rakes his hair back again, the strands tickling the oily muscles of his shoulders, exposing even more muscles I have yet to see.

Ah, that’s why I was sticking to him… the man’s covered in oil! I don’t know if I should be turned on by that, or grossed the fuck out.

He stands up and stretches, and my eyes immediately move to his torso, following the happy trail all the way to Happy Land.

I never could understand why women call that sexy line of a man’s groin the “V”, but the second he moves, showing off his washboard stomach and that specific letter jutting to his erection, I know the only thing it can stand for isvictory.Because any woman lucky enough to find herself in this man’s bed just achieved the ultimate sexual victory.

Apparently, that girl is me. And I don’t remember a goddamn thing about it.

I swear that God must’ve put this man on Earth just to destroy my relationship with Eddie. Right when we were starting to get on better terms again.

“I’d like to get to know you better. What d’you reckon? Feel like a sit down with me for a feed before you run off?”

Damn, he’s nice too? But what the fuck is he saying?

You really know how to pick them, Amber.

Nice… sexy… and he has a fucking Australian accent. You won the Las Vegas lottery without even batting a goddam eyelash. Might as well indulge in your winnings, whore, because you definitely won’t have a fiancé when you get home.

Shaking the intrusive thoughts away, I close my eyes so I don’t look at him. I’m unbelievably attracted to him, which I shouldn’t be. Not while being engaged.

“I really need to get going.”

“Alright then, I’ll have a quick shower, and I’ll walk you out proper. Don’t want you sneakin’ off like a thief in the night, yeah?”