PROLOGUE
As the covers slowly slid down my body, a gentle hand rested on the small of my back. The touch was incredibly warm, almost scorching, like his blood was running hotter than your average Joe. If that was the case, it wouldn't surprise me one bit.
Reluctantly, I cracked open my eyes, only to be met with darkness, just like every time he paid me a visit. It was like clockwork—a brief moment of clarity when my logical mind told me to shut my eyes, part my lips, and tell him to hit the road.
But deep down, I knew that if I mustered up the guts to tell him to scram, he'd do it without uttering a single word. He'd disappear into the night as quietly as he arrived, leaving me alone with my mixed-up emotions. And he wouldn't be coming back.
But hey, it was the right thing to do. The smart thing to do. The thing I thought about doing every damn time. I seriously contemplated it, I swear on everything. Then, his weight hit the bed, his body stretched out beside mine. He pulled me close, and just as I was about to speak, before I could do the sensible thing, his lips were on mine.
For the next two hours, my mind went blank. I didn't think at all. But boy, did I feel. I felt a whole lot. And every single bit of it was pure bliss.
The room stayed dark as I watched the man's silhouette move around. Lying in bed, I quietly observed his silent steps, which struck me as odd. Besides the faint sound of his clothes rustling, there was an overwhelming silence surrounding his every move.
Even though he was just a blurry figure, I could sense a powerful and masculine grace emanating from him, which was quite unusual. Watching my mysterious visitor get dressed felt like witnessing an intense display of cool, confident moves. It was like a badass dance performance, at least that's how it seemed to me. Of course, you don't see that kind of comparison every day, except in my bedroom when he made his visits. Well, to be exact, when he was getting ready to leave.
I was so enthralled by the sight that I could have sold tickets to this captivating show. But the thought of sharing this intimate experience with others gave me pause. It seemed like I might have unintentionally shared these private moments with half of Denver, with each person getting their own exclusive glimpse of our passionate encounters. Just the idea of it messed with my head, especially when he kept coming back, and I willingly allowed it to happen, leading to shared pleasure and his own satisfaction. Often, like tonight, the cycle would repeat.
To be honest, I wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of sharing even more than I may have already.
I closely watched as he approached the bed, my anticipation growing. He leaned in, his warm hand resting gently on my knee, his fingers curling around the back. Then, he pressed a tender kiss on my hip, his lips softly grazing my skin, sending tingles throughout my body. In one swift motion, he pulled up the covers, revealing my waist as they cascaded down.
I was mostly lying on my belly, partially on my side, with my arm bent and my hand tucked under my face on the pillow. He shifted his body towards mine, his fingers slipping under my hair, gently pulling it back, as his lips found their way to my ear.
"See you later, babe," he whispered softly.
"Later," I responded in a hushed tone.
He tilted his head slightly, and his lips brushed against the skin at the back of my ear, followed by the tantalizing touch of his tongue. The sensation sent shivers of delight coursing through my body.
Considerately, he pulled the covers up, ensuring I was snugly tucked in up to my shoulder.
Then, with a swift and silent move, he turned and vanished. Not a sound, not even the faintest creak of the door opening or closing. It was as if he had never been there at all.
It's mind-boggling, absolutely crazy.
I stared at my bedroom door for a while, my body feeling warm, content, and tired, but my mind didn't share the same sentiment. Rolling onto my back, I wrapped the covers around my naked body and fixed my gaze on the ceiling above.
The truth was, I didn't even know his name, which led me to whisper to myself, "God, I feel like such a slut."