Page 74 of Taking Chances

“How are you feeling now? Cold?”

“Erm… a little.” She isn’t cold. She’s hiding, still unaware of her beauty.

“Hopefully it wasn’t too much for you.”

Her eyes roam my body hungrily, and I realize I’m still naked. “Nope,” she pops the p. My cock grows hard under her stare.

I wasn’t planning on fucking her again. She should really get some rest. But if she continues to stare at me like that, this will be a long night.

“How about we order some food?” Like clockwork, her stomach rumbles in response. Her face turns red, and I hate the fact that she’s still insecure.

I order us two huge burgers with sweet potato fries, not giving her a chance to pick the salad. She opts to take a shower on her own, declining my offer to help her. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with her naked, but I respect her decision.

The food arrives just as she finishes showering. Her face is clear and glowing, all traces of fucked up makeup removed.

“Dig in.” I gesture for her to join me on the bed.

“Don’t know why, but I’m starving.” She says, sitting down.

“Good sex will do that to you.” I wink and her eyes grow large, her cheeks turning pink. “It was good sex, right?”

“Yes.” She looks away. “It was amazing. For me.” Her gaze snaps to mine as if backtracking. “I hope it was ok for you.”

This time, a deep laugh bubbles out of me. She isn’t insecure, she’s fucking delusional. “What doyouthink, Firecracker?” I turn her chin to me. “Do you think I was just saying those things? That I faked the stiffness of my cock and filling up your pretty little mouth with my cum?” As I’m speaking, her lips part. “Do you think I’m not already ready for another round? The only reason I’m not inside of you right now is the fact that you need time to rest. Physically and emotionally.”

I grab a fry, stuffing it into my mouth, giving her a second of reprieve.

“Oh,” she whispers but doesn’t say more. I’m wary of saying too much—I don’t want her to get attached—but I can’t let her be delusional anymore.

We eat in comfortable silence and, thank God, she eats the whole burger.

“Couldyou drop me off at the shelter? I’m already late and there’s no need for me to head home before,” she asks me next morning, entering my car.

“Yeah, no problem. Just put in the address.”

“What are your plans for the day?” She punches in the location and makes herself comfortable.

“Nothing much… stuff around the house mostly.”

“Perfect. You can come with, then.” She flashes me a bright smile.

“What?”

“Remember last weekend when you said ‘next time’? Well, it’s now. So why not join me for a day of fun and helping people?”

Yes, Lennox, why not? What could you possibly say to her in lieu of a plausible excuse?

So, instead, I say, “Sure.” And stifle a groan.

We find street parking close to the address she put in and walk to the inconspicuous looking building. There are no signs that this is a shelter for domestic violence survivors, but my stomach swirls with nerves.

“Anyone can just walk in?” I ask, my voice high with surprise.

“Oh, this is just the community office. The location of the safe house is confidential. There’s no way you could get in. Besides, we have Kev here.” She smiles.

“Hi, Anne. Good to see you.” An armed bodyguard sits at the reception desk.

“Hello, Kev. Good to see you, too. This is Lennox, I brought him to help out.” She points a thumb at me. “Give him your ID, please.”

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