Page 31 of First Surrender

Was she angry fucking me? Or was she angry that I was fucking her?

I’m reanalyzing every thought that I’ve had. Was she pulling me in or was she trying to push me away? Fuck.

Was she crying out in pleasure or pain?

I’m going to be sick. I barely make it to the small trash can under my desk before hurling.

Did I hurt her?

Did I take advantage of her?

Chapter Fifteen

Natalie

“Hey, Brax.”

“Hey, sweetie,” my manager greets me as I come through the door to our coffee shack. She’s stocking the cups, preparing for the morning rush. She typically opens and I come right after Dec gets to school.

She’s been managing the “Babe Shack” since it opened. It was the only job I could find in this town that would give me the hours I needed. The funds could be better.

Our customers are mostly male and usually generous with tips. I’m probably one of the more modestly dressed baristas but that’s only because I’m terrified a parent from school is going to see me and judge Dec for it. I’d probably make more money if I showed more skin, but it’s the sacrifice I make to help me pretend I’m doing this guardianship justice.

“Do anything fun last night?” Brax asks innocently but my heart skips a beat.

“Um, no nothing. Stayed in,” I lie. I would never tell her that I was getting railed by an Adonis look-alike. Or that he knew exactly what he was doing and how to get it done. My legs are still trembling just thinking about it.

I accepted that he will always live in my memory as the only man to give me an orgasm but because he’ll never know, I’m notwasting any time being upset about it. I will take it to my grave. Every time I see his face I will treat him like every other man in this world who pisses me off.

I’ll pay him back for every cent he has spent on the hotel that Dec and I are staying in. I’ll find somewhere else to live and then that will be the end of it. He can keep paying his deputies the overtime, that is not my problem.

I do my best to ignore the dark cloud over my head, the reason the deputies are watching over us in the first place. Declan might try to hurt Dec. That bastard is going to burn in hell before he ever gets to my baby brother.

Jackson’s offer to take us in was ridiculous, but objectively kind. It softened me up enough to make the earth-shattering decision to sleep with him. I am so stupid. Nothing good was going to come of that and I practically took advantage of him. He’s a man with a penis, of course, he wasn’t going to turn me down.

After he finished, leaving me empty and instantly unsatisfied, I knew I was screwed. He made me finish but that’s not what left me unsatisfied. I was disappointed not to feel him explode inside of me. I hated the thought as soon as I had it, but I had it.

I was terrified to look at him and see any disgust or regret on his face after what we did. My nerves couldn’t take it. After everything, it’s safer to go back to hating each other. Sex changes nothing.

I power through my shift, filling custom coffee and drink orders, and feeling every ache and pain from what we did. The soreness between my legs is a constant reminder and I am trying to ignore it.

When I looked in the mirror after getting dressed this morning, my eyes were drawn to the dermal piercing betweenmy breasts and my whole body heated remembering his tongue on me.

He has stained my brain and it’s not fair. It makes me want to scream every time I think about him unprompted.

Damn you, Jackson Malec. Damn you.

* * *

“I’m sorry, honey, he’s still not here,” the older secretary Jackson called Roberta the other night tells me. This is the second day in a row that I’ve tried stopping into the Sheriff’s Department to give him money.

Regardless of what transpired between us, I have every intention to pay him back for the hotel. A little at a time, but I’ll get there. I wanted my effort recognized but this is the second day he isn’t in the office.

“Is he busy or something?” I ask, confused. What could make him be away from his office this much?

“No.” She glances around to make sure no one is listening. A few people are scattered throughout the lobby and at other desks, but no one is paying attention to us. “He’s at home, sick. The flu, I think. Poor guy.”

“Oh. Is he okay?” I wasn’t expecting that and it’s a little concerning since I had my tongue down his throat a few days ago.

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