He couldn’t believe she’d actually left, his Music Lady. Just…put on her clothes, got in her car, and drove away. One minute they were asleep, exhausted by the most incredibly fulfilling sex. The next, she was tiptoeing around his room, gathering her clothes, and trying to sneak away. He’d already been entertaining thoughts of waking up with her wrapped in his arms. Showering with him. His cock hardened as he imagined all the things they could do in the shower. Then he’d take her out to breakfast. Talk to her. See what kind of things she liked to eat. Find out what had brought her to Aftershock last night. Why she’d gone home with him. How he could convince her to do it again and again. Well, that idea had run down the shithole in a hurry. She’d taken off like a cat with its tail on fire. He carried his mug into the bedroom, shucked off the jeans he’d pulled on and sat on the bed. With the mug in one hand, he grabbed a fistful of sheet with the other and lifted it to his nose.
