Page 34 of Addicted Lies

I start typing out a question about Felix, but I realized last night that Ford’s kind of jealous of the attention I give the kitten, and it’s funny that he hisses at Ford. I made sure to spend as much time as I could with the little fluffball before I left.

And I still didn’t have the chance to ask about the jackets. So I text out a message asking about that but then end up deleting it. I kind of want to see his reaction about it in person, because it’s very unlike Ford. I remember going back for my jacket and a confrontation at the club when they wouldn’t let us back in to get it. Then it’s a little hazy after that.

I bite my bottom lip. Did I somehow force him into buying me one of every color?

Definitely not asking about that over text.

I finally settle on one thing I know he won’t be able to resist.

Me: I’m coming over this week. I need you to finish your job on this tattoo. I have to go to the beach.

I collect my coffee and go back to the office. I don’t check my phone until I’ve finished with work, and I release a breath because he did reply, though it was hours later.

Ford: What has your ass got to do with the beach?

Ford hasn’t really shown me he is the jealous type, but I’m curious if he’s capable of that emotion. I know we’re just fucking, but I want to prod him enough to see the real Ford, the man under the killer that not many people see.

I smile as I reply.

Me: Because my bikinis will show it, and I want a complete tattoo.

He replies quicker this time, and I read it as I’m stepping into my apartment.

Ford: Wear a cover-up. You shouldn’t be showing that ass to anyone but me.

Me: I’m looking forward to escaping to my favorite resort in Mexico, where everyone will see it and I’ll be fueled by margaritas. Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.

I bite my bottom lip mischievously. It’s no secret that I do, in fact, have a favorite resort in Mexico, and there are plenty of photos from our girls’ trips in the last few years where we practically lived in our bikinis. Ford knows this, but it’s interesting to see how he reacts.

I hate that waiting for his next response makes me giddy. The thought of him being jealous causes a flutter in my chest. And after being completely dominated by him last night, I kind of want to act like a brat on purpose. Because I want that kind of hard fucking all over again, even though I’m battered and bruised.

“Oh, thank fuck you’re here. You didn’t reply to my text,” Ivy says as I open the door. I immediately hide my phone, as if she might discover who I’m messaging.

“Sorry, it was hectic at work,” I reply as I slip out of my heels. She’s wearing a tight black dress, and I smirk. “You have a date tonight?”

“Correction.Wehave a date tonight. If you read your messages, that is. You’ve got twenty minutes to get ready.”

“What?” I ask, surprised. She’s combing her hair as she looks in the living room mirror, deciding between different earrings.

“It’s a double date. And you can’t bail. Dutton’s not in town, and when big bro is away, it’s time for Billie to play.”

I scoff as I set my stuff down. “You know I don’t date, Ivy. You’ve met my brother. Do you want my date killed?”

“Relax. He’s not going to get killed. And even if he does, I don’t really care because I’m just trying to fuck his friend.”

I laugh. “That’s fucking horrible.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, well, we’re far from saints. Put something cute on. His friend saw a photo of you and thinks you’re really hot. Shocker. Who wouldn’t think that with those bountiful tits of yours.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t need that kind of flattery from you, bitch. She who has the curves for days and tits twice my size.” It’s why she’s so popular with the guys.

She smirks and waggles her brows. “Want me to hook up a threesome situation? Or maybe we can swing.”

“I love you, but not that much.” I laugh as I walk into my room. I check my phone for a reply from Ford, but there’s nothing.

I mean, it’s stupid, really. I know it is. I shouldn’t have any kind of loyalty to Ford because it’s just sex.

“Come on, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone anyway. Who knows, it might be super fun,” Ivy says as she barges into my room and begins flicking through my clothes. She pulls out a short skirt and a top that shows my midriff.

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