Page 7 of Kept By the Loan Shark

“Hagen,” I whispered and stroked his jaw, “you are always careful with me. Weird things happen during sex. You stopped without having to be asked. That’s all that matters.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, even though he didn’t need to say the words.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I murmured and slowly wrapped my legs around his waist. With my heels against his ass, I drew him forward. “Come back to me.”

He swallowed hard. “You sure?”

I reached between our bodies and grasped the stiff length of him. Holding his gaze, I pressed him into my slick heat. “I’m sure.”

“Fuck,” he growled and rocked into me. “This okay?”

“Yes,” I said, head thrown back as I felt his body rubbing mine in all the right ways. I clung to his shoulders as he made love to me, his pace steady and true. “Hagen.”

He buried his face against me, nipping and kissing my neck before claiming my mouth. When his hand slid down to cup my bottom, lifting it higher and giving him the perfect angle, I cried out in pleasure. He smiled triumphantly and used his considerable strength to manhandle me right where he wanted me. “Rub your clit, Cassie. I want to feel you squeeze me when I come.”

His filthy instruction sent a ripple of white-hot excitement right through me. I slid my hand down my belly to where our bodies were joined. I was so wet, making an absolute mess of both of us, and my fingertips slid easily over my sensitive clitoris. It didn’t take much to get there. A few insistent, steady circles, and I shattered, keening loudly and rearing up into him, my thighs tightening around his waist as he thrust into me over and over until he groaned and shuddered.

“Fuck, I love you.” His declaration came out on a panted breath. He kissed me then, his mouth languid and soft as he pulsed inside me. He pulled back a few inches and brushed the damp hair from my face. “I love you, Cassie.”

“I love you, John.” I didn’t use his first name often, keeping it for those special or important moments between us. He smiled tenderly and kissed me one last time before withdrawing and dramatically falling onto the bed next to me. Wordlessly, he dragged me closer and kept me in his arms as we enjoyed the warm, hazy afterglow.

I wasn’t sure which one of us fell asleep first. When I came to later, I glanced at the bedside clock and saw that it was after midnight. Grimacing at the wet mess between my thighs, I carefully disentangled myself from his arms and practically ran to the bathroom. After I tidied up, I picked up the trail of clothing that started by the doorway and ended in the bathroom. I pulled our phones from the pockets of our pants and carried them back to the bedroom when I was done throwing our clothes in the hamper and hanging our towels on their hooks.

My phone was almost dead, and his battery indicator was yellow. I carried them to the charging station on his side of the bed and plugged the annoying little cords into place. I scrolled down my phone’s screen to see if I had missed anything important. The Instagram posts on Taylor’s private account were amusing, and I had a feeling she would be sleeping off one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

As I put my phone down next to Hagen’s, his screen lit up with a message. I wasn’t trying to snoop, not really, but the name on the message—Amber—caught my eye. Her number’s area code was familiar. I had been doing so much research on California, especially CalTech and Stanford, to recognize a San Francisco area code when I saw one.

My heart pounded in my throat as I read the flirty message. I had to reread it four times to be sure I wasn’t misunderstanding it.

Amber:Even if you decide not to let my firm handle your money, I’d love to have a chance to handle you. I’m available for a more in-depth demonstration of our hands-on style of managing our clients.

Overcome with the fear, I glanced at Hagen’s sleeping form. What, exactly, had happened during his trip? He had seemed so open and honest during our conversation over dinner that I couldn’t believe he had been lying or holding back details.

I put his phone down and climbed back into bed. My stomach was a mess of knots as my insecurities took hold. The what-ifs tormented me, and I started to doubt myself and everything I believed to be true.

Hagen’s big hand settled onto my hip, and he dragged me across the space between us, pulling my back against his chest. He nuzzled into my neck and draped his arm across my waist. His sleepy kisses soothed my fears. Hagen wouldn’t cheat on me. He wasn’t that kind of man.

Was he?

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