Chapter 6: Gia

Argh.

It's entirely possible that my eyes are cemented shut. At least, that's the way it feels. It takes a few minutes to blink them open. As I do, I realize how gritty they are.

Did I forget to pop out my contacts last night?

That's the only rational explanation I can come up with.

It takes a few seconds for the room to come into sharp focus. As it does, I glance around. My brows draw together because nothing looks familiar.

"What the hell?"

As soon as I mumble the words, last night rushes back at me. The memories are like a torrential rainfall dumped on my head. In shocking Technicolor, I'm inundated with everything.

O'Brien's Bar.

The Renegades.

That guy.

No...not the one who wanted the threesome, the other one.

The gorgeous, dark-haired guy with all the sexy tattoos.

My heart picks up its tempo.

Not to mention all the deliciously wicked things he did to my body.

Of course, I remind myself with a small smile that even gritty eyes can't diminish, it's not like I was any slouch in the wicked department.

Nope. I let go of every inhibition. Who knew that it could be so freeing to sleep with someone you have no intention of seeing again?

Not me.

Apparently, this knowledge gives you total permission to do whatever you want.

And I did.

Yeah...I so did.

For a sliver of a moment, the slight smile widens into more of a triumphant grin.

If memory serves me correctly, he was-hands down-the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen in my life. All right...yes, I'd had a few drinks at the bar. I'm sure there's a small margin of error that I need to factor into his hotness quotient for it to be accurate.

Then again, it's not like I can't hold my alcohol. No matter how much liquor I had consumed, that guy would still be ridiculously hot. When I'd left O'Brien's last night, I'd been in complete control.

Furthermore, I can say with the utmost of confidence that I would do it all over again. It had seriously been that good. I almost want to lay here for a few blissful moments and bask in all the memories that are dancing around in my head like sugarplums at Christmas time.

But I can't do that. I'm dying to see if this guy is as sexy and gorgeous as I remember. Carefully, so as not to wake him, I turn my head to the other side of the bed where a large male body lays next to me.

Naked.

Air gets wedged at the back of my throat as my gaze lands on him in all his slumbering glory. Even in repose, he's one hell of a spectacular specimen.

Sprawled out on his back, his face is angled toward me. His chest rises and falls with every deep inhalation.

I'm still unable to wrap my brain around the fact that I had a one night stand with a college guy. A guy who is-hopefully-only seven years younger than I am.

I should feel completely ashamed.

Strangely enough, I don't. If hot sex with a gorgeous younger man were on my bucket list, I could definitely cross it off.

A few times.

I can't help but snicker.

With him still sacked out, it gives me time to lay here and look my fill. Something I wouldn't be bold enough to do if he were awake. As my gaze falls to the generous curve of his lips, desire shoots through me, remembering all the lovely things we did together last night.

Or more accurately-this morning.

As tempted as I am to trail my fingers over all the colorful ink that decorates his chest and arms, I keep my hands to myself. I don't want to wake him. Last night was way too amazing to taint with awkward morning-after banter. It's probably best to sneak out before we're forced to endure a conversation.

Before I do that, I want to take a few moments and soak up the sexiness splayed out before me. All those tattoos that I couldn't quite see in the darkness stand out in sharp relief across his muscular body as early morning light pours through the unadorned window. Both his chest and arms are covered in dark, swirling patterns of ink. I would love to take more time and study each piece of intricate art, but I can't.

Time is ticking.

Even as regret fills me, I shove it aside, unwilling to scrutinize it too closely.

Cautiously, I roll to the other side of the bed before flipping off the edge in slow-mo. The mattress squeaks and my heartbeat hitches. As my feet settle on the carpeted floor, I hunker into a naked crouch and pause, making sure that the guy is still slumbering peacefully.

I search the surrounding vicinity for my clothes before remembering that he practically tore them off at the front door. FYI-that's another first for me. I almost wince at the thought because it means I need to slink naked into the living room to get dressed.

I mutter a quick prayer that no one is up and about to see my crawl of shame. His deep, rhythmic breaths fill my ears as I move toward the closed door that leads into the hallway. Once I reach the exit, I throw another furtive glance over my shoulder to make sure sexy tattoo guy hasn't woken up.

Nope.

He's still sacked out.

Apparently, I wore him out last night.

Yup. That's right. I did that.

All right...enough gloating.

Time to move. I have to slip out of the room, find my clothing, and get the hell out of here. Once I've safely exited the apartment, I'll request a Lyft to pick me up.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

In less than ten minutes this will be nothing more than a delicious memory to savor with my battery-operated boyfriend. Another tiny pang of regret slips through me as I think about never seeing this guy again. He was sexy, funny, and knew exactly what to do with his hands.

And his mouth.

And his tongue.

Not to mention that he was kind enough to prove this knowledge several times over the course of the night. And if that isn't every girl's kryptonite, I don't know what is.

I reach out and grip the gold-toned handle before carefully rotating it. When it clicks, I cringe, and shoot another glance over my shoulder. The door creaks on its hinges as I open it enough to slip through.

As soon as I step into the short hallway, I jump to my feet and spring into action. Air rushes from my lungs as I hunt around for each piece of clothing, which are scattered around the entryway and living room. Twenty seconds later, I've scooped up all evidence from last night's shenanigans. I step into my panties and yank them up my thighs. Once my boobs are encased in my bra, I pull on my sweater before hauling up my jeans.

With my heels dangling in one hand, I tiptoe into the entryway. I'm about to escape from the apartment when I realize that my purse is missing.

Panic shoots through me. That's not something that can be left behind. We have this whole anonymity thing going on. After last night, I would probably die an excruciatingly slow death if I ever ran into him again.

Frantically, I turn the room upside down before spying my bag tucked under the couch. How it got there, I don't know. I snatch it before bolting toward freedom.

As I reach for the knob, it springs open and a guy saunters through the door. Make that two guys. Both are tall and broad in the shoulders. Muscles bulge from beneath their sweat-soaked shirts.

"Dude, I don't know what you're talk-"

Guy number one's words trail off as his gaze locks on mine. In my haste to scurry out of their way, I stumble back a few steps. He snaps to attention before reaching out and grabbing hold of my upper arms.

It's difficult to say who is more surprised by our narrowly averted collision.

Although I suspect it's me by the small yelp I'm barely able to stifle. It feels like I've been caught red-handed. The only thing that could make this moment more embarrassing is if the guy I'm sneaking out on wakes up and joins us.

My face heats as their curious gazes fall on me.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what's going on. I'm guessing that's why a smirk tips the corners of the blond guy's lips, which only makes him more handsome. His blue eyes are piercing. He's definitely a cutie.

But he's not nearly as hot as sexy tattoo guy sacked out in the other room.

"Hello there. We didn't get a chance to meet last night." The blond nudges his friend in the ribs. "I'm going to take a guess and assume that you're the reason lover boy missed his morning workout."

The dark-haired man glances toward the short hallway. "That lazy ass must still be lounging around in bed." He shakes his head. "No discipline whatsoever."

Guy number one's eyes dance with mischief as a grin stretches across his face. Barely is he able to contain his gleefulness. It's almost as if he's settling in for a nice long chat as he leans his powerful body against the doorframe. "I think she's attempting to skedaddle before Liam wakes up." He snorts. "How hilarious is that?"

By the look of the blond, he's really loving that idea. I have a feeling that sexy tattoo guy isn't going to live that down for a long time.

"Can't really blame the girl, now can we? She probably had a bad case of beer goggles last night when they hooked up. I bet she had to gnaw off her arm to get away."

The first guy grins. "Had that happen to you a number of times, huh?"

When the dark-haired one rolls his turquoise-colored eyes, I blink. Staring at him is like gazing into the sun. For the life of me, I can't bring myself to glance away. Sheesh...I think he's even better looking than the muscular blond.

Who the heck are these guys?

"Please...do you seriously think anyone's running from this face?" He shakes his head, mustering up as much haughty derision as he can. "Unlikely, dude. Very, very unlikely."

The other one gives me an exasperated look as if we're co-conspirators in this conversation before rolling his eyes. "You are seriously one conceited motherfucker." There's a pause. "You know that, right? How does Ivy put up with your damn ass?"

The other one shrugs. He's built like his sole mission in life is to pump iron. Just to be clear, the blond is no slouch in the bulging muscle department either. "Explain how it's conceit if it's the truth? And Ivy loves every damn thing about me. Just ask her."

Apparently, these two are going to bicker amongst themselves. With my purse and shoes clutched tightly in my hand, I interrupt their playful banter because in all honesty, it seems as if they've forgotten that I'm still standing here.

Which is just fine by me.

"All right, well...if you'll excuse me, I'm, ah, late for," my mind goes blank, which I'm going to blame on lack of sleep and three powerful orgasms, "something important."

Their gazes slice to me. Before either one of them can detain me, I dash past them before sprinting down the hall. As I near the stairwell, I stop and jam my feet into my heels before fishing out my phone from my purse and requesting a Lyft.

Only then do I inhale a breath, attempting to calm my scattered nerves before hightailing it from the building to relative safety.