Page 13 of Good Girl

There, right above the center of the bed, is a massive, thick wooden photo frame. The fuck? Several long drawn out breathes later, while wondering what the fuck that is for, I remember where I am.

Their sex apartment.

Bolting upright to a sitting position, I scan the room, expecting one, if not all of them, to be in here, naked, waiting for me to wake up. But...nope. I’m all alone.

Again, what the fuck?

The same thought repeats through my brain as I glance to the side and can clearly see that Darcy slept on the far side of the bed. The evidence of rumpled sheets and head depression in the farthest pillow suggests that he slept with as much distance between us as he could possibly get.

Not to mention the pillow positioned sideways down the center of the bed, like a goddamn wall, to keep us separated. Because he didn’t want to accidentally touch me while he slept?

For some reason, that causes a pang of discomfort in my chest.

Sure, he can put his dick inside me, but he can’t cuddle while we sleep?

Which is just a big fat reminder that this is a weekend of sex. No different than last night at the hotel. They liked the way I letthem use my body, and they wanted more of that. The invitation to extend our time together doesn’t mean anything else.

I shouldn’t even want him to cuddle me.

They like fucking me and I like their cash.

End. Of. Discussion.

Once I can’t hear my pulse anymore, the gentle murmur of male voices drifts to me. The bedroom door is cracked open, and now that the rest of my senses are coming online, the scent of whatever is cooking has my stomach grumbling.

A cursory glance of the room provides a few more details. It helps that the heavy curtains to my left have been pulled back, and morning light streams through a layer of gauzy fabric. Turning, I glance at the little LED thingy and check the time, just after nine. Awesome. I slip out of bed, bringing teddy with me, and separate the curtains to peek out the window. The bay stares back at me.

Last night, I didn’t really pay attention to where the Uber was taking me, and I’d only peripherally known we were getting closer and closer to the water. But I hadn’t realized the building is literally on the waterfront.

Makes sense, though. If they can spend thirty-thousand dollars on two nights with me, then they can afford an apartment in this building.

I turn around to take in the rest of the room, smirking when I see the armchair tucked into the corner between the curtains and the dresser. Something I’d clearly missed in my dazed state last night. The chair is cream and wider than normal. It actually looks like a perfect reading chair, with the wide seat cushion and high, rounded armrests that flare out slightly. The thought of stealing what is clearly Derek’s spot for my own crosses my mind, but I squash the idea before it even forms. I won’t be returning to this apartment.

My attention once again snags on the thick wooden frame in the ceiling, and besides a few decorative metal circles, it is completely smooth and seems out of place in the room. Everything else is delicate, in muted pinks and creams, while the frame is thick and masculine.

Deciding it’s a mystery that doesn’t need to be unraveled right this minute, I head into the bathroom to freshen up. As I’m washing my hands, I scan my features in the mirror and consider putting on a little makeup and fixing my hair, which has mostly stayed within the braids I did last night.

Maybe they’ll like the fresh-out-of-bed look? And if they don’t, I’m sure they will tell me.

I don’t bother changing into my day clothes, since I have no idea what they have planned for the day and figure I’ll need guidance. Maybe they plan on having me walk around naked all day, as previously threatened. If so, what would be the point of even putting on clothes?

Nerves tumble around in my stomach as I draw closer to the bedroom door and the voices get louder. Not allowing myself to give in to the nerves, I squeeze the teddy to my chest, open the door, and walk through.

Light pours into the space through two floor to ceiling windows either side of the TV. The black curtain is still up, and my fingers twitch with the need to sweep it aside, but I don’t. Something tells me that, if I take a peek behind that curtain, I’ll be the living definition of curiosity killed the cat.

The soles of my feet are quiet against the dark wooden floor, and I skirt around the lounge before it occurs to me that the conversation has stopped. Glancing toward the kitchen, I find all four men staring at me, and I almost trip over my own feet. I pause where I am and almost strangle my teddy as I wrap my arms around my middle, regretting coming out here in my purple pajamas.

“Morning, princess. Did you sleep well?” Darcy asks as he puts down his coffee and strides toward me, his sneakers making a muted thud noise with every step.

My gaze dances over his shoulder at the other three before I finally look him in the eye and muster a smile, even though his mention of sleep reminds me that, while we may have slept in the same bed, we did not sleep together. “Yeah, slept like the dead.”

I do not think about my dream, barely able to suppress the shudder that wants to take over my body.

He stops in front of me and cups the side of my face before dropping another forehead kiss on me. Pings of something I choose to ignore erupt inside of me, and I have a feeling it would be very easy to become addicted to these tiny shows of affection.

“Are you hungry?”

I place a hand over my stomach and nod. “Starving.” And then, to be just a little bit of a brat... “I worked up an appetite last night.”

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