Page 125 of Charming Deception

I’m losing control of myself.

I’m slipping, inch by inch, succumbing to my attraction to her. Getting up to masturbate in the middle of the night, when she could’ve easily heard me if she woke up. Not telling her that her nipple was in full view at breakfast for long minutes, so she wouldn’t cover up, and I could glut myself on the view.

Asking her if she enjoys being spanked.

Jacking off on her panties like an overwrought animal with zero consideration of the consequences.

I try to tell myself that there will be no consequences. She doesn’t know. I’m masturbating to save my sanity. To save me from fucking up and touching her.

And plummeting right off a cliff, to a place I can’t come back from.

No. I can’t afford that.

But every time I climax while thinking about her, it only makes me want her more.

* * *

Okay, jerking off was one thing.

Now I’m reading her book, for the sex scenes, in lieu of touching her.

It’s getting pathetic.

Also, I’m avoiding her. I know she’s in bed, so I draw a bath and strip down in the bathroom, sink back into the heat of the water, and open my tablet like a crack addict desperate to steal a hit.

She hasn’t asked me if I’m still reading her books. I’ve seen her writing, though. On her ancient-looking laptop, today, before she got dressed to go to dinner.

I wonder which book she’s writing now. Number four? Or is she already on five?

I’m still on book two of the three that she’s published, and I’m really trying to slow down and savor it instead of gobbling it up like I did the first one.

“Just come get under the furs with me,” Wolf growls. “Unless you actually want to die tonight. Or we could argue about it some more. ’Cause that’s fun.”

He’s so snarly tonight.

“Is this some ploy to get me naked?”

“It’s a ploy to keep you warm and alive.”

Of course it is. Because if I’m dead when he delivers me, he won’t get paid.

I want to say it just to continue the fight, try to push him to refute it, to dare to admit that he’s not doing this just for the money.

That he actually cares even a drop about me.

But I bite my tongue. I sigh like he’s putting me out, but I’m really shivering. “Fine. Don’t look.”

He shuts his eyes.

“I can’t tell if you’re peeking, so cover your eyes.”

He throws an arm over his face.

I strip down completely. Quickly. “You better be naked under there, too.”

“I didn’t know you cared.”

“I mean, this better not be a trick.”

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