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I should be disgusted for the way I’m treating her. Using her and staining her and treating her like nothing more than a toy for my pleasure, but when she darts her tongue out to taste the mess I’ve left on her lip, I know I’m fucked.

She hums with my taste in her mouth just as my climax fades. Overcome with desire, I drag her onto my lap. I want to kiss her and fuck her and make her mine forever. I want reckless, foolish things with this woman.

It was never like this with Em. I never felt so depraved and overcome with lust the way I am with Camille. I never felt socloseto Em. Camille doesn’t deserve this version of me. She is too pure and beautiful.

Tearing my shirt off, I use it to wipe her face clean. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she murmurs. “For what?”

How can I explain? I couldn’t possibly.

So I keep my mouth shut as I pull her into my arms, stroking her back and telling myself it’s not too late to step back over that line and go back to the way things were. I can still make things right.

“Nothing,” I whisper. “You are such a good girl, you know that, little bird?”

She rests her cheek on my chest as she hums pleasantly.

I wish I could tell her she’s so much more than that. Not just good.

She’s perfect. She’s wonderful. She’s everything.

Rule #24: The truth will always come out.

Camille

Aweek slips by since the night at the club. A week since the night Jack and I crossed that line—twice.

I can tell Jack is putting a wall between us again. Although we still do our bondage sessions every night upstairs, there is no more touching, no more indulging, and no more breaking rules. I think he’s proving to himself that he can behave, even when he doesn’t want to.

That night in the living room still crosses my mind nearly every hour of every day. I have always been the one to make the first move with men, but never men like Jack St. Claire. Touching him outside the sessions was a risk. But I wanted to show him how good it could be. Which I did.

Now he wants to show me that we can still maintain our working relationship. Which we are.

But I’m growing restless again. It wasn’t just about the lust that night. It was about the connection. About giving him exactly what he needed. It was aboutus.

This morning, I dropped Bea off with Elizabeth again. She’s taking her to the studio for her second week of lessons. Bea hasn’t been able to stop talking about it since she started last week. Luckily, Jack is never around to hear it.

I’m racked with guilt for lying to him about Bea’s lessons. Maybe if I knew his concerns were justified, I’d feel more. But Bea has found a way to connect to her aunt and her mother, and I will defend her right to do that. Even if it gets me fired.

Now that I’m alone for the day, I’m feeling even more on edge than before. I’ve had all week to think about that sexy, forbidden night and no way to relieve my aching need. How much longer can Jack really expect me to endure this? I’m dying.

Maybe he’s forgotten. And in that case, it would be justifiable to break the rules. I mean…this is unreasonable.

Walking through the silent house, I go to my room and stand in front of my nightstand as if it’s a bad omen I’m forced to face.

I could just reach in and pull out a toy. It probably wouldn’t even take me more than a second.

I’d still be a good girl. I went this long, and that is very impressive.

Biting my bottom lip, I reach down and pull the drawer open.

“What are you doing?”

I let out a scream as I turn around and find Jack standing in my doorway. My heart is beating so fast, I can feel it in my ears. Heat flushes my cheeks as I grab my chest and stare at him. “You scared the hell out of me!”

He chuckles. “Sorry.” Then he nods toward the nightstand again. “What are you reaching for in there?”

“Nothing,” I say with a quick shake of my head.