A strong arm slid across her bare breasts, pulling her tighter against the naked man lying next to her. Instinctively, she snuggled closer in a desperate attempt to let the warmth envelop her. Reality set in, and her eyes flew open. She tried to focus on the white ceiling of the motel room. Looking beside her, her gaze narrowed on the sleeping man. Dark brown hair was slightly ruffled from the many times her fingers plowed through it. His long black lashes rested on high, tanned cheekbones.

Flashes of the night before came back in bittersweet time.

Words ran through her mind as snapshots replayed over and over.

Slut!

Tramp!

Whore!

They all fit, considering her current predicament.

Last night, reason had dissolved into a kiss that was hotter than anything she had ever experienced. She didn't think about things like right and wrong. For once, she allowed herself to give in to the strong desire to do what she felt like doing without thoroughly examining the pros and cons.

The attraction had simply been too strong to fight.

Unfortunately for her, logic and reason were back.

And they were extremely pissed off.

Inevitably, her gaze focused on the door.

Escape was just a few feet away.

Escape from the choices she had made.

Escape from the man she still had to face.

When she risked a glance at him, her heart began to beat double time. Broad shoulders housed solid muscles that she knew could carry her weight. His full lips had brought her more pleasure last night than any other man ever had. The urge to roll over and give into the greedy impulse to indulge in passion one more time was so intense she had to squeeze her thighs together.

She couldn't just leave him here.

Could she?

If only she had thought of the awkwardness she would face the night before. But she hadn't. She spent her whole life thinking of the ramifications of every move she made, and last night, she hadn't wanted to think anymore.

She'd only wanted to feel.

And she had.

In truth, she had to admit that it was one of the best nights she'd ever had. She glanced over at him again, knowing that when he woke up, there would be an uncomfortable conversation that she wasn't ready to face.

What could she say to a man she barely knew?

She knew she should have stopped last night after the second drink. But reason had taken a backseat to the demands of her body, and now she had to face the penalty. She chewed on her lower lip as she studied him. His breathing remained even and calm.

Was he one of those deep sleepers who could sleep through a firing squad?

She was about to find out.

Slowly, she slid her body inch by inch toward the edge of the bed, pausing for a tense moment as he lifted his head. As she closed her eyes, one clear thought reverberated through her head.

Busted!

She winced, waiting for him to ask the question that she knew she didn't have an answer for. When it didn't come, she dared to peek at him through veiled lashes. To her surprise, he gave her the reprieve she was praying for by turning his head away and going back to sleep without opening his eyes.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she continued her progress toward the edge of the bed. Easing onto the floor, she gathered her clothing, which was haphazardly strewn around the room from the urgency of the night before. Thankfully, it didn't take her long to get into her clothes. Soon, she was safely in the armor of her clothing, which consisted of a sexy black skirt and blue silk blouse, her black heels dangling from two fingers.

She gave into the impulse to risk one last glance at the sleeping man before her. He lay sprawled on his stomach, his strong, well-muscled arms spread out, reaching for opposite sides of the bed. His back was tan, probably from working in the sun or lying by the pool. She would never know once she walked out that door. One leg was hiked up in the same spot where it had recently curled around her own. The other lay straight, the crisp hairs blowing in the breeze from the ceiling fan.

Guilt overwhelmed her for sneaking out like a cheating wife, but in truth, she couldn't face her own actions. To speak to him, to wake up slowly with him, would bring her face to face with a situation she was trying to pretend never existed.

Maybe she could just leave a note?

But what would she say?

Thanks for last night?

You were great?

Maybe I'll call you some time?

Even if she wrote it, it would be a lie. She would never see him again, and despite the exquisite passion he brought her last night, she was glad of it. Glad that she didn't have to face him. Or the reckless side that she kept so well hidden. She grabbed her purse from the dresser while walking over to the door. Risking one last coveted glance, she pulled it open, walking out into the sunlight and away from her terrible secret.