Page 78 of Caught from Behind

“Okay, baby,” I tell her. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

She exhales and the glassiness returns, along with her wandering hands. “Good. Because I don’t want to talk. I just want to fuck.”

That’s not happening.

But I’m trying to let her win—or at least think she’s won.

“I want that too.” Not a lie.

I just don’t want it right now.

“But I’ve been traveling all day, chérie,” I tell her. “I need to use the bathroom and then we can fuck, okay?”

“I have a bruise that needs to be kissed.”

“Where?”

She lifts up the shirt, points between her legs.

Christ.

I tug her shirt down. “Later.”

She pouts as I stop by the bed, as I lower her to the mattress.

“Just crawl under the blankets,” I tell her, “and I’ll be right back.”

Her bottom lip pops out.

I can see the argument brewing on the tip of her tongue.

So, I do what I have to. I ignore the scent of booze, the way it shivers down my spine, and I kiss her, slow and deep and wet, kiss her until her eyes close and she melts back against the mattress.

Kiss her until she lets me draw the blankets up and over her.

Kiss her until her eyes droop…

And she falls soundly asleep.

Only then do I go get my bag from my car, clean up the kitchen, do my business in the bathroom.

I crawl into bed next to her, haul her back against my chest.

And, no closer to the truth, I let sleep take me under.

We can talk in the morning.

We will talk in the morning.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Ella

“Thanks for siccing Riggs on me,” I snap, shoving open the door and making Kit jump from where he’s standing behind his desk at the salon.

Nova, arms crossed as she leans against the edge of the counter, scowls. “First of all, Miss Set-Me-Up-With-My-Brother’s-Teammate-Without-Telling-Your-Best-Friend-About-Your-Machinations?—”

“That’s an absurdly long last name,” I say, trying to distract her.

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