Page 56 of Twisted Assist

"Why do you think I pulled her off when you showed me that picture? You have the dirt, so use it."

She hung up, and I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against my steering wheel. What had I gotten myself into? All I wanted to do was stay ahead of whatever Hunter tried to do to Tripp. Being on Sophia's bad side, not to mention her immoral side, wasn't what I wanted at all.

"Get out." Tripp said through my window with a knock on the glass.

Slowly, I turned my ignition off and unbuckled my seatbelt. When I hit the unlock button on my door, Tripp didn't wait for me to let myself out. He opened the door for me and pulled me into his arms.

"Tripp!" I squealed, taken by surprise. "Let me grab my things!"

He put me down long enough to grab my bag and phone, then scooped me back into his arms. Walking all the way across the parking garage, he acted as if I weighed nothing, not even breaking a sweat from holding me for so long.

"I can walk, you know."

"You're a flight risk."

"I am not," I laughed. "I drove myself here."

"Not taking the chance. Last time we said goodbye, I didn't see you for almost a week."

"I'm not going anywhere." Laying my head on his shoulder, I was probably revealing too much, but he was making it hard not to. I was already crossing lines I swore I wouldn't just by being there with him, but since some time had passed since Hunter's threat, I thought it was safe enough to try.

He kept me close as the elevator lifted, and I felt the tension I had been carrying slowly dissipate. It was nearing three in the afternoon, but I could have fallen asleep for days. Tripp must have sensed my waning because he took me straight to his bed and set me down gently.

Tearing at the buttons of my jacket, he slid it off, and our eyes locked. Then he pulled my skirt down, leaving me in only my white blouse and panties. His hand slid up my thigh and rested on my hip, but he didn't move to take any more of my clothes off.

"Sleep," he whispered.

"It's in the middle of the workday." I made the argument, but I didn't make a move to get up.

Sliding his shirt up slowly, he teased me with a peek of his abs. "Do I need to create a scandal so you feel justified being here?"

"Define scandal."

"We can send your boss a video of you sucking my cock."

"Or," I laughed, "let's not do that."

"Seems to be the thing these days."

I could tell by the look on his face that he was only half teasing. When he showed me that picture of him in the club, I was so angry and wanted to fix it. I didn't even take a minute to think of how he really felt about it. But it had to have been weighing on him.

"How are you feeling?" Sitting up, I reached for his hands and held them in mine. He watched my thumb move over his knuckles a few times before looking back at me.

"I'm pissed. Tatum, I don't remember that night. Clearly I was drunk and even though I put myself in that situation, I feel kind of violated."

"Kinda?"

He shrugged and then looked back down at our joined hands. Something about his vulnerable honesty had me climbing into his arms again, wrapping my legs around his waist and burying my lips against his neck.

"Maybe for guys, it's weak to feel violated in this kind of situation. But it's valid. Doesn't matter how much you drank that night, if you didn't want that to happen, it shouldn't have happened."

"But maybe I did want it to happen. I'm not the kind of guy that cares who is sucking his dick, as long as it takes away that lonely feeling I always seem to have."

"You didn't want a picture of it, though."

"Honestly, none of it would bother me if I remembered it. But having a picture of something I have no recollection of is a mindfuck."

"I'm sorry I made you leave."

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