And that was the last thought she had, because that’s when his towel hit the floor.
The bed dipped a little as he got in, and her nerves came rushing back. Saying it had been a while since she’d been naked in bed with a man was an understatement. Then, he reached over and cupped her cheek in his warm hand, and his lips came down on hers, and her nerves disappeared like free drinks at a wedding reception.
Strong, firm lips pressed against hers, and his tongue slid against the seam of her mouth, not demanding entry but not begging, either. He was…tempting her, and her body was responding like she’d been waiting her whole life to take him up on that offer. That realization of the rightness of the moment and the man—okay, and probably a metric ton of her pheromones crushing on his pheromones—made something click inside her, and all the doubt and insecurity disappeared.
In the next heartbeat, they were laying facing each other in the dark—but it didn’t matter because her hands were everywhere, the darkness heightening every touch as her fingers followed the muscular plane of his abs, glided over the high round curve of his ass, and slid down the outside of his hard thighs.
Could she get high from touching someone? Because that’s what it felt like. Her whole body had turned electric, and just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he stopped cupping her face and his hand moved down to her hip, his fingers pressing into her flesh with just the right amount of pressure as he tugged her close and his hard, thick cock brushed against her tight curls. For once, she didn’t overthink. She brought her leg over his and tilted her hips so she could rock her wet, swollen core against him.
His low rumble of a groan brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck. “Fuck, I’m so glad you found a way to get in here.”
Gina froze, nothing but white noise filling her brain. “You left me a key.”
“What key?” he asked, swinging his arm back and hitting the button on the bedside table lamp.
For a second, she couldn’t see as bright light filled the hotel room. Blinking, she cleared her vision and— “Oh my God, you didn’t leave me a key, did you?” She planted both hands on his chest and shoved Ford away from her, panic buzzing through her body with the sting of a thousand bees.
He shook his head, then his eyes narrowed. “Who gave you the key?”
“The key,” she asked, repeating him because her brain couldn’t keep up. Then, the words poured out of her in a freaked-out rush. “You left me the room key with your friends, Johnnie—”
Understanding punched her right between the eyes, and the rest of her explanation turned to poisonous ash in her mouth. She wanted to throw up. It was a setup. The whole thing had been a setup. If not by him, then by his asshole friends.
It wasn’t the first time she’d been made a fool of just for laughs. God knows, she’d lived through it enough growing up. And Johnnie’s story hadn’t sounded that crazy. A little off, but still reasonable. Why? Because that’s what a liar did. He stayed as close to the truth as possible to make the lie believable. She knew and still had totally fallen for it.
Nice going, Regina.
Clamping her teeth together to keep from crying, she clambered over Ford and got to the edge of the bed with lighting speed.
“You didn’t want to be here?” he asked, curling his fingers around her wrist as he sat up.
She jerked her arm away. “Does it matter?”
The question came out in a half croak as her feet touched down on the towel he’d let fall to the floor before getting in bed. How in the world had she let this happen? Why had she thought this time would be different?
Panic made her jittery so she had a hard time seeing her stuff scattered on the floor, but there was no missing the man in the bed. He was imprinted on her brain. Dark hair with the slightest wave, dark green eyes without any laugh lines around them, and a mouth—that mouth—that he may have used to kiss her senseless but didn’t look like he ever used it to smile. He was hot. Too hot for most of the population, let alone someone like her. Fiery tears of humiliation burned at the back of her eyes.
She needed to get out of here. Now.
She rushed forward. Her foot caught in a twist of the towel, and she went down. Her ass hit the carpet with a hard thunk that did more harm to her pride than her tailbone, but her pride was already pretty dinged up and didn’t need the extra scuffs. Closing her eyes, she hung her head so her hair fell in front of her face to form a frizzy curtain while she took a deep breath. Of course, it wasn’t like her humiliation would be complete with only one massive, sixty-story-skyscraper-sized gut punch to the ego. No, she had to be a total klutz, too.
“Are you okay?” Ford asked.
Huffing out a breath, she sent her hair flying out of her face, determined not to let this man know how embarrassed she was. So she looked up—way up—at him, and her brain stuttered to a stop as soon as her mutinous gaze landed on his thick, muscular body, hard dick poking against the sheet, and handsome face. Good Lord, did the fates have no mercy? Before she could reach out and touch him to make sure he was real and not another hoax, some last vestige of self-preservation kicked into gear and she averted her gaze and kept her hands to herself.
“Just peachy,” she said as she got up, her right ass cheek protesting after that tumble, and hustled over to the small piles of her discarded clothes.
Ignoring the granny panties in her hurry to get the hell out of there, she pulled on her dress and reached around in an awkward move for the zipper.
Ford stood up and reached out toward her.
Her heart leapt into her throat, and she jumped back. “Don’t touch me.”
His hand fell to his side, and his shoulders sank. “I was just going to help with the zipper.”
Okay, that would be nice since she was tugging for all she was worth and still only had the damn thing halfway up, but it wasn’t going to happen. She’d had all the embarrassment she could take, without adding being dressed by a man who’d never left her his hotel room key to the list. How pathetic must she have seemed, just showing up and sneaking into his room? It probably happened all the time to someone like him. That thought pissed her off, too.
She glared up at Ford. “How about you just pull the sheet around you instead?”
He swiped it off the bed and wrapped the thousand-count material around his waist. “I’m gonna get Gallo and Ruggiero to apologize to you. This was beyond going too far.”
The guy seemed genuinely pissed, as if this sort of thing didn’t happen in his world. In fairness, it probably didn’t to someone like him.
Tall, good-looking—her gaze landed on the police badge on the bedside table—and a cop, everything probably went his way. That last detail registered in her brain. Cop. Oh my God. Just when she thought the whole situation couldn’t get any worse, she’d forgotten that Ford was a cop, just like almost everyone else at the wedding. Shit. If her brothers knew, they’d kill her, or maybe him. Probably him. They may have been loan sharks but they were overprotective brothers right down to the cellular level. They’d lose their minds if they ever found out. Some things—some people—just weren’t done.
Giving up on getting her zipper any higher than her shoulder blades in her desperation to get away from the scene of the crime, she shoved her foot in a shoe. “I’m leaving.”
Ford’s face darkened, and his square jaw tightened. “Maybe we can figure something—”