Oh, she could try and claim her reasons were noble. That she’d only wanted what was best for her and Miles’s new and fragile relationship. That asking for the truth had been a courageous act on her part. A selfless one.

But she was a liar from way back.

And that whole I’m doing this for us was just another one she told herself.

Yes, she’d wanted the truth.

Miles’s truth.

She’d wanted him to open up to her. To let her in. To let her see all of him. She’d wanted his secrets and darkest fears and deepest fantasies.

But she hadn’t wanted to give him too much in return. She’d already shared more with him than she’d ever shared with anyone else. But she still kept a few things hidden. Only gave him enough to encourage him to give her more and more.

She trusted him with her memories, but not her thoughts.

She trusted him with her body, but not with her heart.

Or the secret she kept so closely guarded there.

She was in love with Miles Jennings.

And she had been for ten years.

She’d convinced herself the feelings she’d had for him before hadn’t been real. That whatever she’d thought she felt for him no longer existed.

But the truth was a sneaky bastard. Always there, lying in wait, ready for the right moment to pounce and rip your life to shreds.

Staring up at the ceiling, she inhaled a slow, careful breath. Blinked back tears trying to get free.

She couldn’t just blurt out an I love you. Not now. Not when they were in the midst of some seriously filthy sex play.

Not after she’d never told him before.

Not when he wouldn’t believe her.

She needed to think. To process a few things on her own before sharing anything with him.

She needed to take a page out of Miles’s handbook and choose her next steps carefully.

Then, after a couple of days or a few weeks, after some deep inner work, after some much-needed reflection, she’d decide what to do with this truth.

And whether or not to trust him with it.

As if he’d heard her inner musings, Miles stirred. Pushed himself up onto his elbow and stared down at her.

She schooled her features in case those cop instincts of his were coming into play. Telling him she was keeping something from him.

But her breath caught when she realized he wasn’t studying her like a cool, level-headed cop wanting to get to the truth.

He looked at her like a man who’d just been ruined.

And wanted to return the favor.

Yes and please.

Lifting his hand, he swiped the bead of his release from her chin, but instead of offering it to her like he’d done with his precum earlier, he rubbed it across her lower lip.

The light touch was like an electric shot, straight from her mouth to her pussy, and she squeezed her inner core muscles.