Page 31 of Dearly Betrayed

“I understand,” I say, feeling meek. It’s absolutely pathetic. He mentions licking my tits and I’m puddling for him. God, what is wrong with me?

“Good girl.” He kisses my neck then releases my arm and walks off.

My god, I could evaporate right here and now, blissfully join with the universe, just for having heard him whisper those words again.

Ears burning hot, pussy even hotter, I decide to take Casey’s advice. As if I have much of a choice.

“Hey!” I call after him. “Hold on! Where the hell is the cashier?”

He rolls his eyes and points. “Learn the damn layout.”

“Asshole,” I mutter as I hurry to turn fake money into real money, a lovely little magic trick I’ll have to keep in mind going forward.

Chapter14

Jayson

Ipace around the living room. Fallon’s taking fucking forever downstairs. I don’t know what Casey said to my wife, but it’s good the girls are getting along. For some strange reason, it pleases me, knowing Fallon’s fitting in with my family, even if it doesn’t matter.

It’s all irrelevant. One year and we’re done. One year and I’m going back to London, and Fallon can return to Dublin, and we’ll both start over.

Separately.

She comes in a few minutes later, back pocket stuffed with cash, which she carefully lays on a table. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Money might’ve meant something to her before she became my wife, but even if we’re barely business partners, I still wouldn’t let my woman ever want for something. She’ll figure that out soon enough.

“What was so important that you manhandled me up here?” she asks.

“I talked with Adler.” I move over to the windows, unable to look at her right now. I need to get this out before I rip her to shreds. The fucking girl is beautiful, and all she’s wearing are those damn skinny jeans again and a simple blue cardigan. It’s tight though, and she left the top two buttons undone, which is just enough to show a hint of her breasts.

It’s so damn distracting, and I really wish it weren’t.

“How’s he doing?” she asks. “I hope he’s doing great, your wonderful brother.”

“He informed me that we aren’t allowed to return to Europe for at least one year.”

She’s quiet and doesn’t answer. I expected something from her—surprise, anguish, something, but instead it’s like this barely registers. I glance back over my shoulder and her brows are furrowed. “That was an option?” she finally asks.

“I live in London. My life is there. Friends, jobs, my home. Everything.”

“Oh,” she says, chewing her lip. “Right. Well, I’ll be honest with you. This isn’t a huge deal to me, since I kind of figured I wasn’t going back home for a while already.”

I grunt in reply. Makes sense, though it doesn’t help me at all. “Fine, but now it’s official. We’re here for a year.”

“Guess you know how I feel now.”

“And how’s that?”

“Like you were forced to give up everything you’ve ever known.” She stares at me, so defiant and gorgeous, and I hate her so much it burns my guts. “At least this works out well then for our timeline, right?”

“That’s what I was thinking too.” I meet her gaze, my heart racing. Those pretty lips, those big eyes. She’s always hiding her softness under the sharp edge of her witty mouth, but I see through the mask. Underneath, she’s a kitten, and all she wants in the world is for someone to stroke her, over and over, until she purrs.

“Alright, so we’re both screwed. Is that all? Can I leave now?”

“Come here.”

Her arms cross. “Is that how you talk to your wife?”

“Yes. I’m frustrated, little fox, and I’m going to take it out on you. Now come here.”

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