Page 85 of The Last Good Man

I suck in a long quiet breath.

“Because they are only things.”

He seems unsatisfied with my answer.

“And then, these things can hurt,” I say.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

It’s too long an explanation, and I have no intention of discussing it with him right now.

Everything has the potential to do harm. Even having fun. Especially having fun.

There’s always a price to pay.

I gesture dismissively asin‘I don’t want to talk about this now’and start moving toward the other room.

But I’m going against his hand, and he stops me from pulling away.

“What about this…?” he says softly, pulling me into him.

My hands rest on his chest.

“What about lying on the bed in the other room and talking for a little while? You drink champagne and eat strawberries, and then I finger fuck you again before I leave?”

His lips barely tilt into a smile.

“What say you?” he murmurs.

The idea of experiencing earth-shattering pleasureagainwins me over more than drinking champagne or eating strawberries.

“Good,” he says before I get the chance to answer.

With that,he scoops me up and carries me to the matrimonial bed.

16

MELODY

Life is fascinating and weird sometimes.

Before Aretha Stenson, I used to talk to a life and business coach, Melissa Broderick. She was expensive, very much in demand, and direct in her approach.

One of the things I remember her saying was that the universe always conspires to send us the things we need.

Sometimes, we ask for or think aboutthembefore we get them. Andsometimes, we get what we don’t even know we need.

‘Those are the trickiest because we fight them the hardest,’she used to say.

Ihave a feelingJax London is one of those things, although I hope I’m wrong.

A fresh, sweet aroma lifts off the satin sheets as he lays me down.

“Naked,” he says, waiting for me to shed my robe and drop it on the floor.

He removes his jacket and boots before throwing another log into the fire, turning off the lights, and collecting his cigarettes and lighter from the window sill.

“This is a smoke-free place,” I remind him.

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