Sinful Protector (Roughshod Rollers MC 2)

I can’t say I regret any of it, though.

Would she? I consider her carefully. She had just thrown herself at a stranger and taken him home. It had been incredibly good sex, yes, but neither of us knew each other. Was she the one-night-stand type normally? Or had last night been special because of the appearance of her ex?

It doesn’t matter, I decide with a shrug. We had sex, it was amazing, but the night is over now, and it’s time for us to get back to our real lives. I snatch my phone off the table and slip out of bed. She makes a humming noise in her sleep at the movement, and I quietly find my boxers, slipping them on before creeping out of the room.

I almost trip over a box that’s almost in the door, and I only just manage to sidestep it with a wince. Then I carefully close Allison’s bedroom door behind me and look around for the rest of my clothes.

I don’t know what type of person Allison is, but I don’t want to be here when she wakes up and regrets the hasty decisions she made last night. I’d rather keep the memory intact and leave with dignity.

Nodding to myself, I get dressed and leave the apartment, bidding Allison a silent farewell as I go. It’s unlikely, after all, that we’ll meet again.

Chapter Five

Allison

I wake up with the uncomfortable feeling that I should be remembering something.

I open my eyes and look around my room with a yawn. All my boxes are scattered around, still half-unpacked. Of course, unpacking is always on my mental to-do list. I just need to find the time to get around to it.

I glance at the clock. It’s eight-thirty, and my first class isn’t until eleven. So I’m not forgetting to go to college.

Then I realize that I’m lying on the left side of the bed. Normally I splay out in the middle, but I seem to have curled up to one side in the middle of the night. That’s unusual for me. It’s almost like I was making room for someone else…

And then, abruptly, memory slams into me.

Kyle!

I sit up, suddenly wide awake. My mind is working furiously, reminding me of everything that transpired last night. Seeing Jesse, whose personality had suddenly done an about-turn. Getting saved by Kyle. Hearing him jokingly suggest sex as payment for saving me. Deciding to take him up on that offer right there in the alley, which led me to invite him back to my apartment. Having sex with him and then telling him to stay because it was late.

“Shit,” I say aloud.

So, that apparently happened. I don’t know what came over me last night. Was it the alcohol? I hadn’t been that drunk! The appearance of Jesse? I vaguely remember telling Kyle to make me forget about my ex. Maybe it was Kyle’s muscles? They had been pretty amazing.

I flush at the memory of running my hands over his smooth, firm chest, feeling the dips of his skin and asking him how often he worked out. He was a mechanic, wasn’t he?

That’s right, because I asked him to take a look at Jacqui’s car.

Oh boy. Jacqui.

She’s either going to murder me for being so careless, or laugh herself stupid. To be honest, I’m not looking forward to either reaction.

I groan and rub a hand down my face. My head is throbbing, and I could really use some aspirin about now. Slowly, I get out of bed, grabbing a robe on the floor to wrap around my naked body, and shuffle out of my room.

In the living area, I look around. A tiny part of me expected to find Kyle out here, but I’m both disappointed and relieved to see that he isn’t. Disappointed because I hoped to at least thank him properly (without throwing myself all over him, this time) for his help with Jesse. Relieved because I’m so damn embarrassed about last night, and I don’t really want to have to face him right now.

In all honesty, I probably won’t see him again. I’ll refer Jacqui to him, but I won’t need to go with her. I don’t know where he lives and, while he knows where I live, he didn’t seem like the type of guy to track down a one-night stand…especially after he went through all the trouble of sneaking out before I woke up.

Alright then. What happened, happened, and I should just leave it in the past, where it belongs. Kyle is gone, we had a nice night, and now I need to focus on my own life, which includes getting ready for college.

Nodding to myself, I retreat to my bathroom. Right, no more thinking about Kyle.

Unfortunately, it’s hard to do that. As I shower and rub soap over myself, it’s hard not to remember his large, calloused hands wandering over my body. When I shove that thought away and tangle my hands in my hair as I wash it instead, I remember his fingers caressing my scalp.

I leave the shower, thoroughly irritated with myself, and track down some clothes. I find the bra and panties that I pulled off last night, and I remember the way Kyle fumbled with the bra, trying not to break it. I throw my underwear in the wash basket and grab some new clothes.

Of course, I had forgotten the clothes that I left in the doorway, where Kyle and I originally began undressing each other. Kyle appears to have moved them to the side so he wouldn’t trip over them, but they’re still a stark reminder of being pushed up against the door and thoroughly kissed.

Damn it, I think sourly as I throw those clothes in the basket, too.