Page 20 of Sinful Betrayal

Part of me wonders whether Ninawantedme to be the one to go through her underwear drawer as part of the chase.

Well, lucky for her, it’s fucking working.

Ignoring the throbbing ache in my pants, I grab a handful of panties and throw them into the bag before zipping it up and carrying it into the bathroom.

Once I’m all done with the toiletries and makeup, which was probably a more stressful experience than taking out those two guys in the alley, I scan the list and realize there’s one last item—a massage gun which, according to the instructions, should be in her top drawer.

I root around the underwear drawer once more, trying not to groan at the feeling of the lace against my fingers, before finding the massage gun.

I wasn’t expecting it to be hot pink with such a large domed head, but then again, I know fuck all about dance. Perhaps it’s shaped differently for a reason, so I toss it in the bag and zip it shut.

“This woman might be the death of me.”

I sling the bag over my shoulder and head out of Nina’s apartment with the most raging hard on I think I’ve ever experienced.

When I arrive backat the house, I find Nina in the living room, flicking through the streaming services on the TV.

A warm feeling spreads through my chest at the sight of her looking so at home.

Other than my mother, no other woman has ever stayed at my house, and I’m surprised at how comforting it is.

Don’t get used to it.

Nina glances over her shoulder and offers me a smile that has my cock twitching.

“Did you find everything ok?” She pops a grape into her mouth.

“I didn’t know it was possible to own so many pairs of tights.” I set the bag down on the couch. “But yes, I think I got everything.”

She chuckles as she sets the grapes onto the coffee table and pulls the bag onto her lap.

“Uh, I don’t remember this being on the list.” Her cheeks burn red as she pulls out the hot pink massage gun.

“You said you needed your massage gun.” I plop down on the couch beside her, crossing an ankle over a knee.

“I did.” Her blush deepens. “But this isn’t my massage gun.”

I frown, staring at the hot pink wand for a moment.

Holy fuck. That’s her fuckingvibrator.

“Oh, uh, shit.” I run my fingers through my hair. “You said it was in your top drawer.”

“In the closet.” She chuckles. “But nice to know you had a good root through my underwear.”

I shift in my seat, adjusting myself as Nina buries the vibrator at the bottom of her bag.

Now all I’m going to be imagining is her using the damn thing while she’s staying in the room next to mine. “I’m sure you can find a use for it.”

“I’m sure I can, but it’s not going to help the Achilles injury I’m recovering from,” Nina mutters. “Daily massages are part of my treatment.”

“Then I’ll hire you a masseuse.” I shrug, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “Or better yet, I’ll do it myself.”

“Oh, so you’re trained in remedial deep tissue sports massage?”

“How hard can it be?” I smirk, patting my thigh.

“Says the guy who can’t tell the difference between a vibrator and a massage gun?”

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