When The Wrong One Loves You Right

  Evelyn Rodriguez sat up abruptly, squinting her eyes protecting them from the blinding daylight sun. She looked around scanning the room in confusion trying to identify anything familiar.

    She had no recollection of where she was. Last she remembered was being at a bar, celebrating her BFF's birthday, now she was in a king-size bed in God knows where.

     She held her head with both hands wincing as the hangover pain pierced through her head. "Where the hell am I?" She muttered under her breath. 

    Evelyn mentally tried to recollect the events of last night and how she ended up here but her eyes instinctively fell upon her duvet-clad body. She peeped underneath the cover and was shocked to her bone marrow to see herself naked under the cover. Gasping for air, she looked up abruptly, and then she looked down again, this time looking way below, between her thighs. There were splatters of blood here and there and even on the mattress too.

    "No, no, no! This can't be happening." She whimpered, squeezing the duvet tightly to her chest. "This couldn't be happening to me". She hadn't possibly lost her 25-year-long virginity over a nightstand with God knows who. 

    Evelyn, perplexed still trying to process her current situation, got distracted from her thought by a groan that came from the left side of the bed. She was too busy trying to get a grip on herself to notice that anyone else was sleeping right beside her. 

    She slowly turned her head toward the direction the sound came from. Whoever it was was covered by the duvet from head to toe and was responsible for violating her body. With utmost rage, she jerks the duvet off of him revealing his hunky body.

    He groaned again, placing the back of his hand on his face, blocking the sunlight from getting into his eyes. 

    The reflections of the sun kissed his deeply tanned muscled body and illuminated his whole frame. The veins in his arms looked like they were about to pop right out of his skin. 

    His finely chiseled nose stood firm, straight, and pointed, and just on the tip of it was a tiny dot freckle. 

    His square jaw was so taut it might have been sculpted. But it was his mouth that knocked the air out of her lungs. Plump lips twitched in a sensual manner above his light beard. 

    This man, whoever he was, was built like a Greek God. 

    His pecs gave a slight flex as he rose to a sitting position and he ran the fingers of his right hand back through his ruffled black hair from forehead to neck in a single natural motion. "Who are you?" He muttered under his breath, blinking his gray eyes that were still struggling to get used to the brightness of the room. 

    Evelyn stared at him in complete bewilderment. Jason Lyndon?! World sensational musician, Jason Lyndon! He who had caused her only sister's death!

    Was in bed with her?!