Saturday morning, Allison Hunter awoke with a soft moan as the remnants of the most vivid, most explicit dream she had ever experienced slowly faded away. Her skin was slick with sweat, her pulse danced wildly, and a pulsing throb lingered deep between her legs. She closed her eyes and willed herself back into sleep so the dream could return to her.

After several moments of deep concentration, the dream still eluded her, and disappointed, she shifted in bed, trying to loosen the blanket that twisted around her legs uncomfortably, only to hit something solid, and very much unexpected.

"Oh, God," she mumbled softly. Lying next to her, still sound asleep, was the sex god from her dreams.

Last night hadn't been a dream, Allison quickly realized. She'd had quite a bit to drink the night before; she remembered that much quite clearly. What she didn't remember was bringing anyone back to the hotel room she had rented out for the weekend of Lindsey's and Jamie's joint birthday celebration in Chicago. Had she really had so much to drink that her mind turned the night into a dream?

Allison watched the man sleep for a few moments. Even if she didn't remember taking him home from the party, he was still a nice sight to wake up to. And he wasn't completely unfamiliar. He hadn't only made a starring appearance in Allison's racy dream; he was Jamie's friend, and he had been right alongside her, Lindsey, Jamie, and all the others, all night long as they drank and danced the night away.

She remembered him telling her that he worked in the business sector; operations to be exact. She remembered thinking he didn't look like any businessman she knew. And he had been the one to rescue Allison from that creepy guy who had followed them from bar to bar, who would just not be shaken off. But his name... What was his name? He had told her it, or Lindsey had said it, or maybe it had been Jamie who had introduced them. She just couldn't remember it.

Another, more disconcerting, thought popped into her head. What was he, this nameless man, doing here, in her hotel room, in bed with her? A quick glance around the room had her stomach jumping nervously, and brought another important question to mind.

Where the hell was she? This room was not her hotel room; this room was much nicer than the room she had checked into the previous afternoon. Allison had gone for cheap over ambiance, and this room had ambiance. It was stark, and sparsely decorated, but it clearly wasn't a hotel room. Though a bit unadorned, the room was clearly a personal bedroom; maybe one that didn't get used a whole lot, but still more personal than a hotel room. Allison studied the picture that sat on the far bedside table of her bedmate holding a small, blonde girl who had his same eyes before turning away quickly.

She rolled over in bed as she groped for her phone, but she came up empty handed. Where was her phone? What time was it? And where the fuck was she? All were very vital questions, which she had no answers for.

With a sigh, Allison rolled over onto her back again and stared up at the ceiling while her mind continued to race. Beside her, her nameless bedmate stirred, shifting in bed. Allison glanced over at him.

"Hey," he mumbled sleepily.

Allison's stomach did a flop. Even still steeped in a sleep induced stupor, he was incredibly sexy. His blonde hair was mussed from sleep and fell to partially cover his piercing, blue eyes. Without thinking, Allison found herself reaching out and brushing the hair away from his face. His eyes focused on her; he watched her intently for a moment, and then smiled slowly. It was a heart stopping smile, and it sent her stomach into another free fall.

"Hey..." she replied, drawing out the word as she wished for his name to come back to her.

"You look a bit surprised to see me," he commented.

"Oh, no. No. I'm not only a bit surprised to see you. I am massively surprised to see you. And, I, uh..."

His laugh had her pausing. "You're very honest. I like that."

Allison sighed. She felt like she had just dodged a bullet. Now, she just needed to remember his name, and maybe how she had ended up in his bed.

"So, um... We, um, we spent the night together, did we?" she asked carefully.

He laughed again, and Allison found herself cheered by his reaction. Maybe this god of a man in front of her was going to take the news that she had no idea who the hell he was goodheartedly. She could only hope.

"Memory failing you, huh?" he teased. He gave her another of his killer smiles, one that sent Allison's pulse racing. "Was I that good last night?"

"Exactly!" Allison exclaimed. "That is it. You were mind blowing last night... In bed?" The statement turned into a question as she processed his words. "You think we slept together last night?"

It was a question that needed no answer. Of course, they had slept together. Why else would they be in bed together now, and what else could explain the dream she had awoken from? It was then that she realized he was shirtless; the blanket they shared pooled loosely at his waist. Slowly, she trailed her eyes down the smooth, defined lines of his chest and abdomen. After a moment, Allison pulled her eyes away from him, and glanced down at herself, suddenly realizing that she, too, wasn't wearing a thing. She tugged at the blanket anxiously, trying to cover herself.

"I don't think we slept much, actually," he replied with a playful smile. "You kept me up most of the night, Allie." She blushed at the use of her name, the shortened version that only those that knew her well used. Seeing the color in her cheeks, he smiled again. "What? What is it?"

Allison ran her hands over her face before giving him a pained smile.

"This is quite embarrassing, but I drank a lot last night. Probably more than I ever have, like in my entire life. Seriously, I never drink, ever."

He gave her a skeptical smile. "We all drank a lot last night."

"I know, but I never do. I never have more than one drink. You wouldn't know this, but last night was so unlike me, so out of character."


"And, well, like I said, this is so embarrassing, but... But, um, could you tell me your name again?"

Allison looked away quickly, her cheeks flaming with color. His laughter pulled her eyes to him again.

"It's not that funny," she added indignantly when he continued to laugh. "I feel completely horrible that I even had to ask."

"Alexander," he told her when his laughter finally trailed off. "Alexander Carpenter. But call me Alex." He frowned after a moment. "I'm surprised you don't remember that."

"I told you, I drank a lot."

"I remember. It's just, I had you moaning it a lot last night. A lot."

Allison rolled her eyes as she gathered the blanket around her and sat up. "So, um, would you mind looking away for a moment? Maybe face that wall over there?" She pointed towards the wall to her left.

Alex gave her a curious look. "Why?"

"I'm getting out of bed." She gave him another small, pained smile. "I don't remember what I did with my clothes," she added, awkwardly.

"So?" Alex replied. "Allie, we had sex last night."

"I know that." Annoyance started to creep into her voice. "I know I was trashed last night, and I needed a bit of a memory jog this morning, but I do remember last night... Most of it."

"We had sex last night," Alex repeated, eliciting a sigh from Allison. "I've seen you without your clothing."


He ignored her question. "At one point last night, Allie, I had my face buried between your legs." She blushed as her mind drifted back to the night before; a warm sensation spread through her at the memory. Alex watched her as they sat in silence, and Allison slipped back into the dream for a moment. "You're thinking about it right now."

He was right; she was thinking about it. Allison's blush deepened as the memories of Alex's head bowed between her legs, of his large hands pressing against her thighs, of his skillful tongue gliding over her sensitive flesh, flooded her mind.

"I know," she admitted, finally.

"Stay with me," Alex said quickly, when Allison kicked her feet over the side of the bed. The blanket fell to her waist, and this time it was Alex's turn to admire the graceful lines of her back, and the small tattoo that adorned her lower back just above her right hip. His hand fell to rest on her shoulder, his fingers squeezing gently.

"I really should get back to the hotel," Allison mumbled as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I need to find Lindsey. If you ever find yourself in St. Louis, you should look me up. This was fun."

Fun, Alex thought to himself. Sure, the night had been fun. But he wasn't just asking Allie to stay with him because she was good in bed. He was asking because he didn't want to spend his last few days in the city alone. And there was something about her, something that made him want to know more about her, made him want to feel as if he deserved to know all the intimate details about her that now commanded his thoughts.

"Stay with me, Allie," he repeated. "Lindsey has Jamie. Let me have another day with you."

Slowly, Alex slid the hand that still lingered on her shoulder down her back to rest on her waist. He traced the lines of the arrow and intricate script she had inscribed on her skin. Allison rocked ever so slightly as his fingertips dusted over her skin gently.

"Allie?" he questioned softly when she remained silent. "What do you say? Spend the weekend with me?" Alex shifted on the bed next to her, moved so that he was closer to her with his chest pressing against her back. After settling his hands on her waist, he pulled her back down the bed.

"I say... Yes," Allison whispered, gazing up at him. "Yes."