Unhinged by his White Heat (Unhinged Erotic Romance Series, Book 1)

Chapter 17

Kema slunk out of his room at five A.M., clutching the robe around her body. She took the elevator one floor down, grateful that no-one else was around to see her. Their flight back to Lagos was scheduled for sometime after ten so the plan was that they would all check out today after breakfast.

Inserting the keycard and opening the door to her room, she slipped inside. The hotel was quiet. Outside, dark skies lingered. She yawned, exhausted. She ought to take a quick nap for at least an hour but she doubted she could sleep. Last night with Oliver had been... out of this world. They had done it three times more, after the first. Each one better, sweeter, crazier than the last.

She bit her lip as she remembered how she'd progressed from moaning to screaming and how she'd rolled her hips and scratched his back. She wouldn't be able to get those images out of her mind.

Kema stripped off the bikini and wrap and entered the bathroom. Planting her face in front of the mirror, she stared back at her reflection. Did it show in her face? That she was no longer a virgin? That a man's penis had found its way into her vagina?

She turned from left to right, inspecting her entire face. All she could see was that the sides of her head needed shaving and—oh—that her mouth seemed a little swollen. Too much rough kissing.

Glancing down at her body, she noticed her heavy and jutting nipples. Her hand swept underneath her legs, felt the swollen area. Her stomach still ached from the pressure of his large penis.

Kema shut her eyes for a moment. So it had happened. Did she regret it? No... not yet, anyway. What would she do about Ikenna? Lie to him? Dump him?

Argh. She swerved over to the bathtub and yanked the taps down. Warm and cold water gushed out.

***

Oliver jumped up from the bed, almost two hours later. Stretching his arms over his head, he smiled as he recalled the night with Kema. It had been astounding.

He glanced at the empty bed. When did she leave? He hadn't noticed. He needed to speak to her, to discuss this... thing between them, whatever it was.

He hoped she felt good about their love-making... that there were no regrets. Because he had none. What they had done together was special, unique. She'd obviously thought so because she'd been as eager and as hungry for him as he was for her. She'd desired more, and more and more and more. Four times in a night.

Oliver grinned. At one point, she had sobbed into his shoulder, explaining that they were tears of joy. He had told her again that he loved her. Kema had burst into tears once more, kissed his mouth hard and then mounted him.

He glanced through his phone on the bedside drawer. Damn! Fifteen missed calls... from Ini.

Oliver groaned. He had to speak to her, to explain himself. She didn't deserve this. But what could he say? He had to say something...

He hustled into the shower.

Forty-five minutes later, in a pale blue shirt, the top buttons free and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into a pair of black jeans, he strode out of his room. He dashed into the elevator, pressed the button to go down one floor.

He had to talk to Ini, yeah, but first, he needed to know Kema was okay. Fortunately... or maybe not, if he happened to run into Ini, their rooms were on the same floor.

Walking out of the lift and toward her room, Oliver snuck an eye at the black Versace wristwatch on his wrist. He had only about twenty minutes to sort out everything here and meet up with the others at the hotel restaurant.