Page 56 of Selling Innocence

He slept fitfully at first, small sounds leaving him. After the first fifteen minutes or so, my back started to ache, but each time I shifted, when I thought about leaving, he’d reach for me again.

Looks like I’m going nowhere.

He huffed, kicking his legs like a kid who couldn’t get comfortable. He tossed his blanket down, showing off his chest again, sweat beading on his forehead.

It was warm and humid, and alcohol tended to make people feel even hotter. “Stupid clothes,” he muttered beneath his breath, then reached down for his underwear.

Before I could even come up with a way to stop him from stripping, he removed the boxer briefs and flung them to the ground. Thankfully, the blanket kept me from seeing anything.

I guess he sleeps naked.

Not all that shocking for a man like Vance.

He brought his left hand to his mouth and took one of the fingers of his glove between his teeth, then pulled it off. It was the first time I’d seen him without those gloves on.

People often said he wore them due to his art, that they were to protect his hands. I still recalled when he’d told me to protect my own, that for artists, they were so important.

His left hand was just as pale as his chest, his fingers long and lovely. It was funny since the rest of his body was so large, so manly, that his hands could seem so graceful.

He hooked the thumb of his left hand under the wrist of his right glove, then yanked the black fabric off, tossing it to the floor with the same annoyance he’d used for everything else, as though he really hated wearing anything.

When my gaze went to his right hand, I froze. It looked nothing like his left.

And just like that, I knew I’d seen something I was never meant to.

* * * *

Vance

My head pounded as I came to, and I wondered if it might just explode. Had I hit it on something? Was this an aneurysm?

Whatever it was, the idea of fully waking up seemed like a horrible idea. I could only imagine this would get worse.

Something moved beside me, making me laugh.

A woman by my side would make even a headache like this not seem so bad, after all.

I swallowed, my throat dry, and the taste of stale alcohol explained the pounding in my head.

It’d been a long time since I’d overindulged like that. A few drinks? Sure. I enjoyed dulling my senses just a bit, the nice relaxation that happened when I could let things go and not worry so much. Blackout drunk, though, was something I’d put behind me a long time ago.

I opened my eyes, curious to see whatever girl I’d brought him with me.

And boy did I not expect to see a certain brown-haired girl beside me.

Kenz slept, her eyes closed, her lips pulled into a half-smile even in her sleep. Just seeing her like that made my chest tighten.

Had I slept with her?

While I couldn’t deny I sure wanted to, the idea that I actually had struck me as weird. She wasn’t the type to give in like that. I never figured I’d have a shot, yet somehow, she was in the bed beside me.

Then I noted that she was dressed fully.

Weird.

If I did get her into bed with me, I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied with some quickie where we kept most of our clothes on. No, I’d want to strip her down fully, to see every inch of her pretty body, to make sure I remembered it all.

So had we not slept together?

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