Page 84 of Pitiful Lies

I squirted.

Twice.

I didn’t even know I could do that. But maybe it’s just because of him.

Duh.

It is definitely him.

I know he’s ruined me for anyone else. And it scares the shit out of me. So I push that thought away and I focus on the present. On the now. And how good he makes my body feel.

I won’t think about my heart. Or the fact I am dangerously close to being in love with him

I can’t.

Deny. Deny. Deny, Sisi.

It is the only way I know to survive this.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN-GISELLE

After our dirty little bath, Angel drops a bomb on me.

He has to go out of town on business, and he wants me to come.

I should say no. It could be dangerous. But I know Angel would never put me in harm’s way.

I don’t know how long this thing is going to last before he gets bored. And the truth is, I don’t want to be away from him.

The ride to Boston is fast, but Angel always drives like a bat out of hell. Only this time, he’s not driving.

It’s Banks. He’s one of the bodyguards who was with me at my parents’ house.

I recognize he’s one of Angel’s top and most trusted men. He never looks directly at me.

In fact, none of his men do, and I appreciate that.

They are all big and hulking, though none more than Angel. I’m getting used to the fact these men are all armed and dangerous, and honestly, it’s not as weird as it should be.

I don’t know if that means I’m becoming desensitized or if it never really bothered me to begin with.

Angel’s been working on his laptop for most of the drive, but he still manages to ask me if I need to stop or if I want something to drink.

“No more of that,” he mutters and turns off the laptop, quickly depositing it back in the leather bag beside him.

I think it’s a Tom Ford, but I’m not sure. It’s sleek, expensive, and really fucking nice. But Angel always has good taste.

I fidget with my outfit. We are going straight to this black tie event, and we stopped about half an hour ago to grab a snack, shower and change.

With the evening traffic, there’s no time to go to our actual hotel first, and I’m grateful Angel had the forethought to make the arrangements.

The Boston address we’re headed to is about five hours away from Jersey City, give or take. Sitting in a gown or a tuxedo for that long wouldn’t have been comfortable for either of us.

Angel is always thinking about my comfort. Something I really appreciate about him. He exhales and closes his eyes for a moment.

I take the time to check over my dress and I cover my belly with my hand and wonder if this was the right choice.

Anna and Maria helped me pick it out. It’s something I borrowed from Anna’s closet since I have nothing fancy enough for a black tie event in my meager selection of clothes that survived after my apartment was blown up.

---