Page 60 of Illicit Temptation

“Get some sleep, princess. You can tell me more tomorrow.”

Smiling, her head floats down to the pillow, and in a flash, she’s asleep.

My sexy, slutty angel is gone. The woman who loves me is...

Gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Shea

The very first thing my brain processes in the morning is not my schedule. It’s wondering what in fuck’s sake is that awful taste in my mouth?

Pushing the covers away, I pad into my bathroom and catch a look at myself in the mirror with bulging eyes. This is how I went to sleep? Topless and a thong?

I peek back into the bedroom and see my gown from last night tossed on a chair. Also not like me. What the heck happened? I wasn’t drunk. I took an Ambien. Oh no, maybe it interacts with the new pills I’m taking to help the fibroids. My gyno knows I’m on Ambien, though. Ack, one more thing to worry about.

Feeling a morning chill, I slip on my robe.

After brushing my teeth, I stretch, wanting to run, but the ache between my legs has my heart racing for another reason.

Right into this tiny thong. Which I only wore because that gown was so unforgiving and if you’re gonna show panty lines, it might as well be a thong.

Had I known Archer would be there, I would have worn something else. Something with long sleeves and a high neckline. The idea of that man’s eyes on me sickens me. But Trace’s reaction felt better than any kind of jealousy Archer could display.

When the pinch in my heart thinking of him doesn’t show up, I relax. Only, it leaves me without a plan. For my life. For eight years, Archer was it. He was my future, and I have to start all over.

At thirty-fucking-seven. With a uterus on life support.

My mind wanders to Trace...

He agreed to the divorce. Why?Other than he’s my bodyguard now. Three and a half years ago, he hadn’t bent the knee to Lachlan.

I want so much to open up to Trace and tell him about my fertility issues. And that’s why I can’t stay married to him. It’s not fair. He’ll say it won’t matter. But it does matter. Itwillmatter down the road. He just doesn’t see it now. It won’t take much to fall in love with him and then I’ll be crushed to see that disappointment in his eyes. That regret from knowing he had a chance at a different life but didn’t take it. And then he’ll be stuck with me.

Too much to think about before coffee. With my hands on the bathroom counter, I lower my head and arrange the day ahead of me in my mind.

But this ache won’t subside. My dildo will help, but plastic won’t do this morning. I slip my finger into my thong and groan at the contact with my hot, slick folds, quivering nerves needing release.

Just a few strokes and I’m already close.

“Christ, Trace.”

“I’m right here, princess.” Trace hovers in the doorway because that man knows no boundaries and has a key to my locked door.

Cinching my robe closed, I bark, “Don’t you knock?”

“Saying my name while you play with yourself sounded like an invitation.”

Air fills my lungs in ragged, uneven breaths. In the glory of his stare, I let my robe fall open.

Nothing he hasn’t seen before apparently. God, what I wouldn’t give for that memory.

Or...

I can make new ones. Sober ones.Yeah, fucking plural.What is stopping me?

Without an invitation or an order to leave, Trace strides into the bathroom. His glare of carnal promises, maybe that’s his death stare, will certainly be the death of me.

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