The Morning After
Shecriedalltheway home. It was a good thing early morning traffic wasn’t half as bad as daytime traffic or she’d surely have crashed into someone. Her hands shook as she unlocked her apartment door, she practically fell into it pushing it closed again, and she briefly debated not bothering to throw the lock.
Why am I so upset?
The smeared, sweat-stained, tear-streaked face paint was making her skin itch and her eyes burn. Or perhaps the latter was just the tears that hadn’t stopped since she’d tip-toed out of Lennox freaking Mitchell’s hotel room.
Her heart clenched again and Brinley finally shuffled properly into her apartment. She dropped her shoes against the wall, dug her phone free and let the purse—clutch and all—fall to the worn sofa as she passed. Her phone was promptly plugged in, long overdue for a charge, and she continued on her way to her room. Her clothes didn’t feel right over her skin and she desperately needed a shower.
Even though that would mean washing his scent away.
Her throat constricted and Brinley had to catch herself on the wall.Why?Why did it hurt so bad? Was this shame? Was this what it felt like to be ashamed of herself? She pressed a hand too firmly against her chest, between her breasts, trying to steady her aching heart. That didn’t seem right. Sure, it was unlike her to sleep with any man on the day she’d met him, let alone when she couldn’t say she properly had. Saying it that way almost did make her feel dirty in the bad way.
His voice rumbled through her memory and her body tingled.
Almost, but not quite. Because damn all the modern conventions, all the conservative perspectives, all the ignorant advice and all the judgmental hypocrites. No matter the fact that they were from two different social circles, no matter the fact that she would never see him again save for a photo in an article, their chemistry had been real. And it had been more than some stupid, physiological imperative driving the alpha male to stick his dick into an omega female’s open hole.
Brinley sucked in a shaky breath, finally coming back to herself as she half ripped the earrings free, and her gaze dropped to the innocent-looking accessories in her palm.Oh, shit.Her stomach twisted and another wave of tears burned her eyes. The cameras. She’d completely forgotten about the damn little cameras!
Her fingers fumbled as she rolled the things around until she was sure they’d been toggled off. The small possibility that they’d snapped a picture or three of her staring dumbly down at them in nothing but a lacy strapless bra with hickeys on her chest wasalmostas mortifying as the rest of what they’d more likely caught.
She wasn’t entirely sure of the distance required between her phone and the earrings for the feature to even work. There was a chance the only images caught had been implicitly guilty ones from the dancing and the kissing. Otherwise….
Otherwise, I have naked photos of Lennox Mitchell on my phone.She swallowed hard, shoved the earrings into a drawer for good measure, and resumed stripping. Of course she could get in a lot of trouble for those. But she wasn’t stupid or cruel enough to ever tell a soul about them, if they even existed. The smart thing to do, as soon as she had the strength, would be to upload the sim card to her personal computer so she could safely go through and check for the incriminating photos. And delete any she found.
The chill of the bathroom vinyl seeped into her soul through her bared feet when she stepped into the room. She rubbed at her arms, then quickly reached out and switched on her shower.
While she waited for the water to warm, she grabbed the heavy-duty makeup remover face wipes she had previously purchased and started scrubbing. She hadn’t meant to leave the paint on so long. She was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be left on so long. It took four of the six wipes in the stupid package to get all the paint she could see and her whole face hurt from the scrubbing by the time she was done.
Brinley pulled in a breath of the now-steamy air and let herself into the shower stall. She didn’t have a lot of time to be lingering, especially if she first wanted to go through the pictures herself. But she couldn’t stop herself from tilting her face into the water and letting a few more tears seep free.
Why does it hurt so much?
She hadn’t wanted to leave his arms that morning. She hadn’t wanted to wiggle out of that bed, to sneakily scoop her scattered clothes up off the floor and change in the other room like some sort of dirty secret. But it wasn’t his fault she had found herself feeling that way. He’d asked her to stay, yes, but he’d also made it clear at every turn that he would let her go.Shewas the one who’d crossed too many lines.
What the hell had she been thinking?
Brinley finally looked down at herself, again seeing soft red blemishes sprinkled across her chest and abdomen, and she knew if she twisted her leg she would see more on her thighs. Lennox had kissed every part of her. He’d marked her body only temporarily, but he’d branded something inside her she feared would never heal.
She sucked in a breath and reached angrily for her body wash.Stupid. So stupid.She should never have done it. For so many reasons.
Least, or perhaps most, of all, because the alpha she’d done it with had been one of the wealthiest bachelors in the western world. Lennox Mitchell, CEO of Eureka Destinations, a top-tier United States-based global travel organization. He kept out of the spotlight with the skill of a man who either had a damn good team of lawyers or who actually knew how to not do outlandish shit on a regular basis. His company brand was internationally recognized, but not his face. Rumor was he liked it that way. Given his alpha dynamic, that preference for privacy made more sense.
Brinley slumped against her shower wall, barely keeping hold of her loofa.
Why had a man who stayed out of scandals, who could probably afford the entire damnstateof Florida, taken a woman he had no way of identifying up to his room? Why had he shown his face, why had he not insisted she do the same, why had he taken the risk of fucking her bareback without a single mention of protection?
Everything they’d shared had felt so raw. She’d forgotten, for a few moments, that he had no idea who he was fucking. But he didn’t. He didn’t know her name or what she looked like.
Could he have just been looking for a good time, after all? Blinded by the opportunity to get a little omega pussy without permanent consequences?
Brinley choked on another sob and forced herself to straighten. She was a damn reporter. She knew better than to succumb to unfounded theories. There were too many things she had no answers to. Most of them hurt. She was at least equally to blame for that pain and she was not going to be the kind of woman who dumped all of that anger on the most convenient male for the sake of it.
She finished washing herself, doing her best not to think at all. Of course, she caught herself constantly remembering Lennox’s touch. The sensation of his kisses. The way he’d held her and pleasured her, and even gently cleaned her when they were done. Her body was still sore, but she assumed that was to be expected. It had been her first time taking a knot, after all.
First and last.
Brinley shut off the water when she was done, letting the washcloth drop on the stall floor to remind herself it needed to go in the laundry later. She stepped out, found her larger towel, and wrapped it around herself. A second towel was then grabbed up to squeeze and scrub at her hair.
