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he slammed again and again into her. Fingers bit into her flesh, control seeming to have deserted him.
    “Yes, so hot, wet.” His guttural encouragement only added fuel to the fire raging in her blood. “Damn, I’m gonna come.”
    “Please.” Gillian sobbed, her body hovering on the precipice for a split second as he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in her pussy, his body wracked by shudders. The hot splash of his ejaculate pulsed against her cervix as he hovered over her body. Gillian groaned in pleasure and fell. This is what it’s supposed to feel like. The errant thought filtered through the haze a moment before she came. Her body splintering into shards of pleasure so intense it took her breath away.
    With a muted groan, he sank onto her, his breath hot and moist in the crook of her neck. His fingers caught hers, interlocking them as he pressed them deeper into the bed. A moment later he wrapped an arm across her waist and rolled over, leaving his weight on his side as he pulled her closer to him.
    Icy fear crept through her as he reached for the lights. She jumped when they went out, her body tensing. What now? What’s the protocol in this situation?
    “Quit thinking so loud.” Jack pressed a kiss to her temple. “Sleep, Gilli, just sleep for now.”
    Gillian closed her eyes but doubted she’d get any sleep. Exhaustion, however, hovered, eager to claim her. Long after Jack had slipped into sleep, his soft snore filling her head, she struggled against the warmth of sleep.

Chapter 4
    Gillian jerked awake and slowed her ragged breathing. She rolled over, her fingers scrambling for her glasses. The hot, solid weight of a body next to her sent a bolt of terror through her.
    “Oh God, what did I do?” Her pitiful whisper did little to ease her mind. Inching away from the man in her bed, she sighed at the feel of a corner of a dressing table. Her fingers scrambled over it to find her glasses. Relief flooded her at the familiar weight of them. Slipping them on, she glanced over her shoulder. A white sheet pooled low across Jack’s waist, the dark curls peeking from the folds. One broad, tanned hand lay on his stomach, the other stretched out across the bed. Stubble darkened his jaw, his tousled hair falling over his forehead in sleep.
    She prayed he wouldn’t wake and tugged on the blankets, pulling one loose enough to wrap around her body. Gillian stood, her heart racing, palms sweaty as she glanced around the room. Desperation ripped through her blood.
    Please, please don’t let him wake up. Just let me get out of here and we’ll forget this ever happened. It can’t happen again .
    She tossed clothes aside in the vain search for her panties. Pale lavender lace peeked out from under his hip. Her fingers curled into her palm before she backed from the room.
    Her breath coming in loud, harsh pants, she slipped on the oversized bathrobe lying across the back of the couch, grabbed the stained and wrinkled mess she’d worn at the wedding, and darted about looking for her heels. The soft snore from the bed drew her attention. She gave up on the pumps and all but raced from the room. She swore and turned to dart back in before the door closed to grab her purse. Pulling her mother’s room key from the tiny clutch bag, she hurried down the hall, her head bent, face burning with embarrassment.
    The door swung open without a sound and Gillian slipped into the honeymoon suite. There were no noises coming from the main bedroom. With a breath of relief, Gillian tossed the formal gown aside and grabbed her carryon. She discarded the robe and pulled on a pair of tan slacks, a white sweater, and grabbed her sensible flats.
    Dressed, she froze at a creak from the bedroom. Please don’t wake up. She prayed and tucked her clutch into the bag before grabbing her jacket and all but flying from the hotel room.
    Relief flooded her as she slipped unnoticed past the front desk. She could see the two employees in the