Her Secret Lover (What Happens in Vegas)

Cover Her Secret Lover (What Happens in Vegas)
The smell of brewing coffee teased Kelsey as she rolled over in her bed, burying her head under her pillow with a groan. But she was up now, the lure of liquid caffeine drawing her out of her sleepy haze. She reached out and snagged her phone from the nightstand and looked at the screen, wincing at the crazy time of the morning. They’d gone to sleep a couple of hours earlier, exhausted after three rounds of the best sex of her life.
    She stretched, tossing her phone back toward the general d
...irection of the side table, not caring when it missed and made a loud thunk on the floor. In spite of the early hour, she felt too good to care. Her body ached in that way that gives you a secret smile all day when you remember every kiss and thrust and clench from a night of being well used. She let the memories of the night before roll through her mind as the tingles and shivers passed over her skin, and she smiled the smug smile of the thoroughly fucked.
    It was times like this that she wondered why she waited so long between bed partners.
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