Page 55 of Dirty Little Secrets
She flinches. Just barely. Then turns and disappears into the guest room, slamming the door behind her. And just like that, my orgasm vanishes too.
I run a hand down my face, cursing under my breath. I wanted confirmation that she wanted me the same way I wanted her.
I got it.
But it changes nothing. I can’t act on it. Can’t have her. Because if I ever buried my cock inside her, there’d be no going back. I’d claim her. And if I claimed her? She’d become a target.
And I’d lose the only thing I’ve never had, something real if she ever found out the truth about me. That I’m not just a businessman.
They say money can’t buy happiness. And I finally understand how true that is.
28
“He took you home?” Kristina’s eyes are wide with disbelief.
I nod and take a sip of coffee, wincing as the dull throb behind my eyes reminds me, I’m still recovering. Bash dropped me off Saturday morning, it’s Monday and the hangover hasn’t left.
“His home?” she clarifies like she still can’t process it.
I can’t either.
I told her about the restaurant but left out the part where he came out of the shower jerking off in front of me. Or how he rejected me.
I was right. He’d never go for a girl like me.
I was just available. A man with a dick doesn’t need much more. I’ve learned that lesson too many times: being the only woman in the room often makes you the default distraction.
I didn’t let him finish as soon as truth left his tongue. It was no different than why Brent and his friends did it. To get off. Because that’s all I’ve ever been good for.
“It wasn’t like that,” I say, my voice flat. “I was drunk.”
She waves her hand like she’s swatting the truth away. “Yeah, right. He wants you.”
I stifle a bitter laugh. “No. He doesn’t.”
I could explain, but what’s the point? Kristina would romanticize it. Think he was holding back because of professionalism or because I work for him. But that’s not it. Not even close.
His words flipped something inside me. If I didn’t work at Drazen Enterprises, if we met in some normal way, he wouldn’t have even looked at me, not the way I looked at him. The way I begged him with my eyes to touch me. He wouldn’t have seen me. He would’ve chosen someone discreet. Safe. Someone who came without complications. She wouldn’t need to show her face just a warm body. He’s not looking for love. He’s looking for escape.
Unapologetic sex. Carnal. Raw.
I’ve been that escape before. I know the signs. The real question is, what ishetrying to forget?
“How was your night?” I ask, changing the subject.
Kristina bites into her croissant. She chews slowly, like she’s buying herself time.
Something happened. But like me, she’s choosing silence.
“Bash took me home. That was it.” She shrugs and blows on her coffee. “Nothing exciting likeyournight.”
I check the time on my phone and push my chair back. “I gotta go. If I’m late, he might send security to come drag me in.”
“Ooooh… the possessive kind. I like it.”
I roll my eyes. “Not even close. He just insists I hand-deliver his schedule even though I email it to him. It’s like his fingers are broken.”
“Excuses, excuses,” she teases.
