Page 100 of Never Kiss and Tell

“It’s not important. Don’t let it ruin your day. You have cake tasting today, right?”

She smiles, brushing hair out of my face. It’s so intimate that my first reaction is to put her down. But I like the way her fingers feel on my face, the caring look in her eye, so I don’t.

“I like that you can remember that. I forgot.”

I chuckle, and hold her tighter to me. Despite everything, when Bailey presses her lips to my neck, heat seems to bloom from the spot. When she does it again, my hand rubs over the spot on her ass that I spanked last night and she jerks, pulling away with a startled, but heavy gaze.

“Not right now,” I murmur, shaking my head even though my cock is aching in my boxers.

Bailey cocks her head at me and lowers her fingers to the t-shirt covering her body, pulling it over her head and dropping it on the floor beside us.

“You said not to let it ruin my day,” she shrugs. “I’m not.”

She takes my hand in hers and lifts it to her chest, pressing my palm on to her breast until I grope the soft skin. I groan, a practically feral sound, and lower my lips to suck her nipple into my mouth.

Her head falls back and she groans, the sound going straight to my cock.

“Have you ever come on burnt pancakes?” I ask against her skin.

“No,” she whispers, soft fingers tugging at my hair.

“You’re about to.”

And then I flip her over the table and make her come until she forgets Drew even existed. But I don’t forget. He’ll be hearing from me real fucking soon.

Charlie

“Holy shit,” Bailey pants, her hair stuck to her damp face.

An hour after we climbed out of the shower, Bailey and I collapse back into the pillows on my bed and suck in shallow breaths. Me from eating her for the past hour. Her from coming as many times as I could make her.

“Is this what boxing does for you?” she asks, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “The stamina of a machine gun.”

I chuckle, rolling onto my side and facing her. “Can’t keep up, princess?”

She rolls her eyes and I swear I want to fuck that attitude right back out of her. “I think I keep up well.”

Too well, sometimes,I think. I keep waiting for her to tire of me, but each time I fuck her until I think she can’t possibly come again, she surprises me.

Bailey rolls onto her side, tucking her hands under her cheek and staring at me with those big, innocent eyes.

“Tell me about your mother.”

Agitation grows in my chest. The last thing I wanted to do right now was open up to Bailey about my mother. Sensing the irritation blooming in me, Bailey raises to her elbow, her hand on my chest a bitter reminder I’m playing with something I can’t have.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it,” she says softly.

“The whole point to enemies with benefits is that you leave when we’re done,” I mutter harshly. “This isn’t a slumber party.”

Bailey’s face goes pale in the light and guilt stabs me in the gut. Self-loathing seems to be my new favorite pastime when it comes to her.

Bailey doesn’t say anything as she slides from the bed and hunts for her clothes. She doesn’t have to. This whole deal is centered on the fact that we don’t like each other, but we both want to fuck each other. Not sit around and talk about our feelings. Not worry about each other’s past. A part of me knows I’m being unfair, forcing her to tell me about her life in California while I’m unrelenting in telling her about my own tumultuous past, but I usually shut that part up with whiskey.

The bed’s cold as soon as she leaves it and regret boils low in my blood. I can’t look at her as she slips on her clothes from last night, leaving my shirt discarded where it fell. Something about that pisses me off more than my own stubbornness. I stare at the ceiling as she makes her way to the door, stopping to turn back to me hesitantly.

“I hope, one day, you’ll forgive yourself for what happened, Charlie,” she says, her voice so soft and gentle I want to reach for her. “No one blames you butyou.”

When I look up, she’s gone.