Page 24 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

Just sex.

No sleeping over.

No feelings involved.

That way, no one gets hurt.

The fact that Maggie is allowed here is only because I feel responsible for her safety, no other reason.

I do not have any sort of feelings for her.

Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.

Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. Truth is, Ican’thave feelings for her.

Once this all gets resolved, she will go back to her life, and I will go back to mine.

As soon as I can ensure she is safe, everything can go back to the way it was. Life will go on as usual. She will go back to her home and her job, and I will go back to being alone, just the way I like it.

But then why does the thought of never seeing her again make my chest ache?

The followingevening the shit hits the fan at the bar.

We have a women’s club that meets religiously every Sunday night, a group of bored, rich housewives who get together to drink and bitch about their husbands.

It’s just after seven o’clock when Jayce calls to inform me we’ve not only had another bartender quit this month, but also one of our liquor orders got delivered to the wrong address. We are now out of two of the three main ingredients used in our most popular specialty cocktail, The Ruby Sparkler—and guess what all the ladies are asking for?

Normally, I would say to hell with it. They can just order something else. But they mostly keep to themselves and happen to be some of my highest paying customers, so in this case, unfortunately, money talks.

Since Jayce is stuck working behind the bar, thatleaves me to take care of the mix-up. Which may not be a bad thing, because I could use some fresh air.

Maggie’s sweet, cherry almond scent has started to permeate through every damn room in my home, save for my bedroom and the office downstairs—which is where I have been holed up all day—and it’s driving me mad.

I go looking for Maggie to let her know I will be heading out for a while.

I haven’t seen much of her since yesterday.

My conversation with Beckham left me feeling a bit unsettled. It only took one twenty-minute conversation over the phone, and he could pick up on what I haven’t even been able to admit to myself—that, despite my best efforts, this girl has already gotten too deep under my skin.

The best thing for both of us at this point is for me to maintain my distance until this is all over.

When I find her room empty, I head downstairs to the kitchen, not at all prepared for the sight that greets me.

Maggie is bent over at the waist, peering into the refrigerator. She has on those same little denim cutoff shorts that drove me fucking wild yesterday—ones that showcase her toned legs, the globes of her pert little ass peeking out from underneath the fraying material.

My cock twitches, all the blood rushing south as erotic images of Maggie bent over and at my mercy as I plunge into her tight, wet pussy from behind, flood my mind.

Not even gonna go there.

Clearing my throat, I push those thoughts out of my head.

I guess she must not have heard me come in, because at the sound she jumps, spinning on her heels, as she clutches a little plastic cup of yogurt tight in her fist.

“Holy shit! You scared me!” she pants.

She must have squeezed too hard, because the cup has busted open, yogurt spilling out onto the hand that clutches at her heaving chest. As she attempts to calm her racing heart, she inadvertently smears the creamy white substance across the exposed skin of her breasts, which is not helping the semi I’ve had since I walked in here.

I let out a low groan, and a look of horror flashes across her face when she realizes what she’s done.

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