Page 38 of Bind Me, Sir

“I slept with him,” I said, giving into need to make things somewhat better between us, “but that was it.”

“Bullshit. Your face is red as a damn rose.”

Memories of soft petals bombarded my mind, heating me through. “Drop it, Luna. I don’t want to talk about him.”

She held her silence while I puttered around the kitchen pulling out stuff for a salad to go with our pasta.

“You took that picture,” she said, quieter, almost thoughtful.

I’d already told her as much, so I didn’t respond.

“My God. You left him the morning after, didn’t you? What the hell?”

“Since I was up first, I didn’t wait around for the awkward conversation to follow.”

“Pfft.” She laughed. “I’d have ridden him one more time, said goodbye, and left with a huge ass grin on my face. Is he as big as they say?”

I jerked my head toward her. “What?”

“His cock.” She smirked. “Seriously ten inches?”

“Oh my God.” My face flamed, and I went back to the baby carrots on the cutting board. “You did not just ask me that.”

More laughter tinkled from her, the sounds of joy and teasing I hadn’t enjoyed in far too long. My heart warmed, and I found myself longing for that sisterly connection we had shared once upon a time.

I dished.

Gave her every detail, every memory, but I held onto my guilt, my reasons for putting Jordan Graystone from my mind. Luna would use anything to get me preoccupied with myself, anything to gain her more freedom from my ever-seeing eye.

Chapter Twenty-One

Jordan

“Hey.”

“What’s up, Garret?” I asked, my cell pressed to my ear while I toweled off my sweaty face.

“My sister just called.” He sounded out of breath like me, but I expected it wasn’t from running five miles in the stifling August heat. “Check out The Savoy’s front page.”

A sneer pulled my lips as I tossed the towel into the bathroom’s hamper. “I don’t give a shit about whatever bull they’re running with this week.”

It seemed every other month they dug for trash on me and ended up with nothing but lies I chose to ignore.

“You will this time,” Garret said, the absurdity of his tone told me all I needed to know.

I hung up, and a quick voice command brought up The Savoy’s front page—with it’s clear as fuck picture of me sleeping in the church’s bed.

“The fuck!” I stared, baffled for all of two seconds before truth slammed into me, stealing my breath.

Manipulative, lying little bitch...

She’d given them everything from the black silk ties I’d used to tie her to the altar, to the actual length of my dick—in black and white text for the world to read. She’d doubtless gotten the money she needed for that damn lawyer for her sister.

But, she would pay a dozen times over for what she’d done.

I showered and took my time dressing, grooming meticulously for the showdown to come. She had fucked with the wrong man, one far above her station according to society, not that I’d ever given a fuck about my father’s title.

Her sister won’t be the only one going to jail, I told myself while heading north into the boondocks of New Hampshire, my foot steady on the gas. Not too fast, not to slow, I stalked across the border, intent on getting what I wanted.

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