Prairie Nights
Prologue
Whitney Faris peeled her eyes open, mascara caked to her eyelashes. Immediately assaulted by a harsh stream of light escaping the thick hotel room curtains, she squinted as she tried to figure out where she was.
A wall of warmth to her back and a soft snore made her eyes widen as memories of the night before came at her in a flashback. Very dirty memories of the man next to her. Alcohol infused memories rolling through her mind like a theatre reel. Oh my God.
She sat up quietly, taking a moment to regain her equilibrium, her head spinning from the intoxication of last night. Glancing down at herself, the thin hotel room sheet barely covering her naked breasts, she winced as her eyes darted to her left to the very naked, very sexy, Hayden Hastings. Facing away from her, she unapologetically let her eyes roam over his muscular back and taut behind not covered by the sheet. Damn, he’s sexy. Damn, he knew exactly what to do with that magnificent body. Her eyes widened in panic. Damn, this is not something I do. A wave of regret washed over her. What have I done?
At 34, Whitney wasn’t the kind of woman that went home with men she barely knew. She wasn’t the kind of woman who went home with anyone. This was not her modus operandi, ever. Seven years out of an emotionally abusive marriage, she had dated a lot, but had never gone home with a man. Especially a man she had known less than 24 hours. What was I thinking?
Groaning internally at the awkward situation she found herself in, Whitney slipped out of the bed as silently as she could, trying not to disturb the hot as hell man fast asleep in the hotel room bed. Naked, she searched for her clothing, finding her bra and panties in the corner and her green cocktail dress lying in a crumpled pile next to a chair. Flashes of their frantic undressing clouding her thoughts as she considered how he expertly removed her dress and underwear as he kissed, sucked, and bit at her skin. Oh God, he knew just how to use his tongue. Her core pulsated at the vision of his head buried between her legs. That was before…her thoughts trailed off as all that they had done last night came back to her in a rush. The soreness between her thighs, a stark reminder.
I need to get out of here, panic taking over. Before he wakes up and I’m subjected to an awkward morning after conversation. Quickly putting on her bra and panties, she slipped back into her wrinkled dress, thanking all the yoga classes for the flexibility she had so she could zip herself up.
Taking a quick look at her reflection in the full-length hotel room mirror, she shook her head at her disheveled reflection. This is not you. This is not who you are. Quickly smoothing down her shoulder-length blonde hair and finger combing through the tangles, she wiped away the black flakes of mascara from under her deep brown eyes.
Hayden stirred, murmuring in his sleep. She stilled, waiting to see if he would wake and praying to the gods that he wouldn’t. His steady snore returned, causing her to sigh with relief as she slipped her clutch under her arm and grabbed her high heels. Tiptoeing towards the hotel room door, she stole one last glance at the gorgeous man fast asleep in the rumpled bed and exited the room, for her very first walk of shame.