Page 42 of Mastered By Desire

“Yeah.”

I don’t know what else to say. Gage Fucking Jannik set me up. He sent me home with her panties. He knew what was going to happen—or at least he had to guess. A little souvenir of the auction. I leaped off the deep end. I embraced the motherfucking depths of my desires and I’m already turning it into shit and hurting Leah in the process. I can’t be in a relationship with her. Does she want a relationship?

Her head of brown hair is pressed against my shoulder. Like she belongs here. With me.

“Did you…did you want more?” I ask.

“You say that like it’s an option, but your tone tells a different story.” She tries to tug away from my hold.

I don’t let her go. “I’m attracted to you, but I don’t want sex to get in the way of our friendship.”

“You aren’t willing to try?”

The words stick in my throat. I don’t fucking deserve someone as nice as her, first of all. And Danica would kill me. But our chemistry. The affection I feel for her, the tenderness that makes my chest feel like it’s going to burst….

“Yeah. I can hear your non-answer loud and clear.” Her voice carries an undercurrent of electricity. “Can we be done with aftercare now?”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Yes.”

This time when she pulls away, I let her go. I stand and collect my shirt from where it landed on the coffee table.

Leah lets out a frustrated sigh as she flops down onto the couch, taking up the entire length.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Sure.” She gives me an unconvincing thumb’s up. “Goodnight.”

I’m dismissed.

I slink off to my bedroom, feeling like the biggest asshole in the history of assholes.

My choice, right?

Then why do I feel like I tore out my own heart,Temple of Doom-style?

12

Leah

Ialways thought morning-after soreness was supposed to be a happy reminder of sexy times.

Today it fills me with rage.

Dmitri’s gone when I get up. Fucking coward.

I throw off my blankets and go straight to the kitchen, driven by the angry churning in my gut.

He made coffee, at least, and left some for me. I push away my thoughts of how considerate he is. I need to be angry. Anger beats sadness, and sadness beats apathy in the rock-paper-scissors of life.

Apathy beats anger. I’m not there yet.

I don’t have any tutoring to do until this afternoon. Even then, it’ll be a light schedule because it’s Friday. Just two sessions. Very few of my students want extra lessons on Fridays.

I fix myself a cup of coffee and turn on my laptop. While it slowly whirs to life, I switch on the TV forAcademy of Ghosts.

I have to restart the episode I was watching last night, because I wasn’t really watching it, was I? No, I was thinkinghorny thoughts and doing horny things with Dmitri Love-’Em-and-Leave-’Em Montrose.

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