Page 31 of Good Girl

I was still in Derek’s bed.

“Two sugars,” came the distant drift of Derek’s voice, as if I needed any more confirmation. “And don’t go crazy on the milk like you always do.”

The replying voice was too low for me to work out what they were saying, but there was only one other person I knew who could be here. Samuel. That tall, handsome, green-eyed man had appeared halfway through the activities.

I’d let him fuck me. I’dsleptwith my professor and his friend without so much as a cautious thought. In the moment, it had been the sexiest thing I could ever dream of happening. The cold light of morning was quite different.

I pulled back the duvet and eased myself out of bed, only to pause when I noticed none of my clothes were on the floor. Glancing around the room, I couldn’t see them on any of the cabinets or chairs either, and the more awake I became, the more my bladder’s insistent urge for relief was making itself known.

Fuck.

I had never done this before, and I had no idea what the protocol here was. Should I wait for Derek to come and check on me? Or was it okay to go out there and ask for the bathroom? Just the thought of that warmed my cheeks and my pussy gave a harder throb. Facing those men without desire to give me confidence was an impossible thought.

But Ireallyhad to pee.

I danced back and forth for a long few minutes, just listening to the light conversation droning through from the other room, then I made my decision.

I had to face them eventually, and it would be better to do it now when I could slip away without much fuss. Without my clothes, I settled on snatching a light blue shirt from the open wardrobe by the wall. Doubt swelled in my chest about how well it would actually fit me, but as I slipped it on, I was surprised that it fit rather well.

Clothesneverfit well on me, and yet this shirt wrapped around me like gentle silk and buttoned it up quickly. It was long enough to come down just past my hips, giving me the cover I would need to reach the bathroom and find my clothes. I sucked in a steadying breath as my heart began to beat wildly upon approaching the door, and I winced faintly. My nipples were more sensitive than I realized, and the fabric of the shirt brushed over them in such a way that warmth was already beading at my core again.

Ignore it, Charlotte.

Show time.

I padded out of the bedroom and through the door to the lounge, following the sound of their light laughter.

Derek came into view a moment later. He was seated at the island counter in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hand and dressed only in a pair of light jeans that clung to that gorgeous ass of his. My mouth ran dry as I glanced over his muscular torso—of course, that’s why the shirt fit me. He was more built than he looked. Next to him stood Samuel, who had both hands braced on the counter and a plate of toast in front of him. He stood tall, his close-cropped beard neat against his jaw,, and his slightly crooked nose gave him a rather homey appearance.

“Excuse me.” I felt like a child seeking permission and it was a struggle to get my voice to even work when a third man emerged from the fridge and every inch of me froze up. The third man was extremely well-built. His leather jacket did nothing to hide the broadness of his muscles. Light brown hair fluffed on top of his head, and a set of piercing blue eyes locked onto me. His brows rose in surprise, revealing a thin scar under his left brow.

The conversation died, and all three of them turned to look at me.

“Bathroom?” I managed to squeak out around a chest that was so tense I couldn’t suck in any air.

“Behind you, door on the left,” Derek said flatly, and my anxiety swelled so suddenly that an acidic pulse of nausea swept up my throat. I couldn’t get any further words out. Instead, I turned on the spot and bolted.

The door clicked behind me, and I pressed against it, my heart trying to claw its way out of my chest.

Oh, God, there are three of them? Three stunning men between me and the door.

“Derek,” came Samuel’s scolding voice drifting under the door. “You probably scared the shit out of her.”

“What?” came Derek’s indignant reply. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Behind you, door on the left,” Samuel mocked. “You might as well have been directing traffic, not talking to our new interest.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Derek retorted. Then a pause. “Was it?”

“Be gentle,” came the third voice. “From what you told me, last night was intense. You know, for a man famed for your intense but caring style of sex, you can be cold sometimes.”

“The fuck? I am gentle,” Derek grumbled.

I listened to the snippets of conversation, and confusion swirled through the raw, static sensation resting in my chest. They sounded nice and yet at the same time, they stood there like three chiseled gods and I was just...

My thoughts trailed off as I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My blonde hair was a mess, my skin flushed and my cheeks red. What little makeup I had worn yesterday had been sweated off, and through the V shape left by the open buttons, I could see the faint red crisscross marks of Derek’s flogger.

Looking like this, no wonder Derek was cold. He probably regretted putting his dick anywhere near me once he saw me like this. Sadness warmed behind my eyes, and I dropped down onto the toilet to do my business.

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