Untamed (Untamed #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

his bed.
    My body shot up as my heart kicked into overdrive. I didn’t do this. EVER. I wasn’t the type to linger after a one-night stand. And I sure as hell never SLEPT with the guys I hooked up with. The rule was to get out as soon as they…well, got out.
    My head throbbed—a familiar hangover, amplified tenfold by the panic pulsing in my chest. I glanced over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Four forty-five a.m. Thank god. There was still an hour to sunrise. Still time to escape unnoticed and pretend I was never here. And, most importantly, to forget that Dare was the first guy in four years to make me feel something.
    Carefully, so as not to rouse him, I lifted his arm off my stomach and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I had to get out and not look back. But before I could will my feet to move, I risked another glance at him. Even in deep sleep with his jaw set and his brow furrowed slightly, he looked so sure of himself. Like his life had direction and purpose.
    It was… beautiful . He was beautiful.
    Moonlight caressed his smooth skin, shining down on a tattoo of a phoenix on his shoulder. As he inhaled and exhaled, his muscles expanded and contracted, causing the bird to look like it was about to take flight. Mesmerized by the art and its lifelike motion, I reached out, wanting nothing more than to trace it with my fingertips. My hand hovered over Dare’s body, his warmth beckoning me. I couldn’t help it, and the instant I touched him, heat shot through my body.
    I jumped off the bed like a girl possessed.
    Time to go.
    I speed-dialed my car service and sprinted through the apartment, gathering my things. Never had I been so desperate to flee the scene. Dress. Check! Clutch? Uhh…shit. Where the hell was it? YES! Good. First shoe. Second. Got it. Underwear? UNDERWEAR?! Damn it! The unfamiliar layout didn’t help. Finally, I just had to give up and go commando.
    The idea that I hadn’t made a clean exit should’ve scared the shit out of me. Strangely, though, knowing that I’d left behind a piece of myself for Dare to keep had the opposite effect. It filled me with an unfamiliar, inexplicable warmth.
    As I stepped into my car and set off for Fifth Avenue, I realized that my lips were turned up in a small, secret smile. For the second time tonight, it was a truly genuine one.

    “Reagan, are you even listening to the words coming out of my mouth?” I was an expert at tuning out my mother’s voice, but it had a way of grating on my nerves enough to break through. “How many times have I told you to dress appropriately for breakfast?”
    You’d think we were at the freaking White House, sharing the table with the President, Pope, and Queen of England. Or that maybe I was in my nighty with unbrushed teeth, knots in my hair, and elbows on the table. No. I’d snuck back to my parents’ penthouse apartment just in time to shower, dress, and rush down to the dining room without being missed.
    My hair was up in a tight bun, I had on black leggings and a loose, blue cardigan, and—despite my hangover—I was even managing to sit up straight. Anywhere else, I’d be perfectly presentable. In Nathaniel and Olivia McKinley’s house, however, I was breaking countless etiquette rules. And all this before eight a.m.
    “I truly wish you would go back upstairs and put on some make-up.” My mother, a lawyer-turned-dutiful-homemaker-slash-photo-op-philanthropist, was on one of her usual tirades. “You look sickly pale, Reagan.”
    So glad we were starting off with the easy stuff this morning.
    “I feel fine. Maybe it’s the lighting.” I motioned to the row of crystal chandeliers above the oversized table. “When was the last time you got new ones?” She was on a permanent redecorating mission. Every month, another room. When she made it through the entire house, she started all over again.
    At the moment, the entire two top floors were glaringly white—walls, furniture, floors. There was so