Page 298 of Filthy Elites

His muscles flex, emphasizing his physical perfection as he moves the covers aside and climbs under them with me. Mercifully, he pulls them back over us once he’s settled between my thighs.

“You okay?” he asks, watching me carefully.

I nod, my heart still hammering. “I just wasn’t expecting this tonight.”

“Is that why you’re hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding from you, I just…” The mean comments about the picture resurface, creating doubt where he had wiped it away the night I took that picture.

Worse, the pictures I saw of Anae on her social media account play across my mind. Maybe I haven’t seen her naked, but I’ve seen her in a bikini. I know she’s completely perfect, and she’s the one he’s used to seeing naked.

Nobody would make mean comments about her butt.

He slides a stray strand of hair off my face and asks, “Seriously, what is it?”

I feel like such an idiot saying it, but… “That haiku.”

He frowns.

“It’s so stupid. I know it’s stupid. Who cares what some random internet troll says about my butt.”

His face freezes like he can’t believe what he just heard. “Are you kidding me?” His hand slides up my thigh and cups my butt. “This ass? Thisperfectass?”

I throw my head back into the pillows, smiling helplessly. “The poet hates it.”

“The poet is a fucking moron and is probably jealous of you, let’s be honest. He or she wishes I wantedtheirshittynudes, and I don’t. I only want yours.”

I’m grinning helplessly, but his last words dig in deep and plant hooks in my heart. “Only mine?” I ask softly, pushing my fingers through his hair.

“Only yours,” he promises.

“You’re not just saying that to be nice?”

He smirks and gives me a kiss. “I’m not nice,” he tells me.

Tenderness fills me as I caress the side of his face. “You’re nice to me.”

“Sh.” He presses his finger to my lips, reminding me, “That was supposed to be our little secret.”

If I do this, willIbehislittle secret?

The thought whispers across my mind, but I don’t have time to entertain it.

Dare grabs something off the bed, something I didn’t notice before.

A square, foil packet.

Chase Darington is naked in my bed, on top of me, holding a condom.

He doesn’t ask if I’m ready or if I even want to.

Instead, he rips the packet open with his teeth, takes the little rubber ring out, and reaches down to slide it over his dick.

Ready or not, here we go.

TWENTY-THREE

Aubrey

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