More.
Shea didn’t look back at me, while her little girl seemed not to be able to look away. Instead, she quietly latched the door shut behind them when she stepped out, her only acknowledgment she was even considering my presence, like she thought she was leaving me there to sleep away the morning. Thoughtful and kind, the way she always seemed to be.
Or maybe she was just trying to whisk her daughter away from the remnants of our debauchery with as little fanfare as possible.
Didn’t blame her a bit.
Groaning, I rolled onto my back and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
What did I do?
With a strained sigh, I pushed myself up to sitting at the edge of the bed, scrubbed my face, and forced myself to stand. I stretched my arms over my head, squinted at the muted light seeping in through the early morning fog.
And for the record, the sun was so not way, way, way up high in the sky, and after last night, I could have used about fifty more hours sleep with a little more Shea peppered in between. God, the woman was a fucking masterpiece. I’d have gladly stayed in bed with her all damned day.
But Shea didn’t have time for distractions, even though that’s exactly what I’d become, quite wittingly, because I knew exactly what was gonna happen when the words shot from my mouth last night.
I’ve got her.
And I did. Just for a little while, I’d had her.
And for a little while, she’d made me forget.
She’d let me get lost in all her light and dark, let me discover it was far greater than I ever could have imagined. Made me wish for something greater, too.
We both knew that was impossible. This morning had proven that.
I snagged my underwear from the floor and pulled them on as I fumbled toward the adjoining bathroom, stopping long enough to snatch up the three forgotten condom wrappers I’d carelessly tossed onto her floor. Both of us forgetting. Figuring if we had one night, we were going to make it count.
Now both of us were remembering why this was a really fucking bad idea.
I took a piss, hunted through her bottom cabinet for mouthwash that wasn’t all that hard to find, swilled a mouthful straight from the bottle. It fucking burned and stung, but somehow that sensation was somewhere down in the cavern of my chest, and I spit it out as if it could rid me of all this shit I didn’t want to feel.
Straightening, I stilled when I caught myself in the mirror, something unsettled in my eyes. Regret I knew I’d feel, taking Shea when I knew I shouldn’t, knowing it was going to mean more than it should.
I rubbed my palm over my mouth, lifting my chin and dragging my hand down the stubble that was getting way too thick, to my throat that felt way too tight.
The messed up part? I didn’t want to feel that regret, didn’t ever want to look back on what I’d experienced with her as something stolen, when I was pretty damned sure if I was living a different life she would have been mine.
Didn’t want her looking at me like I were sin.
A mistake.
Didn’t want it to hurt when I walked away.
But I couldn’t have all the other elements without the last.
I plodded back out into her room and quickly dressed. I felt like some creep when I cracked opened the door and peered through the slit to take in the landing of the top floor of Shea’s house, wondering just what the protocol was for skipping out with the woman’s kid lurking below. Shea had given me no indication of what she wanted me to do, and part of me was wishing that right before we’d finally succumbed to exhaustion at just before dawn, she’d have told me to grab my shit and go.