Page 53 of Dearly Betrayed

“And I took it. You were such a good girl, my little fox.”

“I know.” I close my eyes, glowing under his praise, and only the smallest voice is telling me to stop enjoying this. The guilt’s distant, almost nonexistent. “Say that again.”

“Good girl.” He kisses my neck. “A very, very good girl.”

“Thank you.” I snuggle into him, not sure why this feels so nice, but willing to let myself enjoy it for a little while. It isn’t every day a girl gets her first time.

Chapter24

Fallon

Sea breeze pulls my hair from the chunky clip. I gather it up again, but it’s no use; I end up letting it go wild. Down below, the sand looks like construction paper, and the ocean’s lapping at it with white spray. The sun’s barely up, but it’s a beautiful morning, chilly but glorious, only a smattering of puffy white clouds. I pull my robe tighter around me as the sliding door opens and Jayson steps outside.

“Good morning.” He brings me a cup of coffee. I accept it with a conflicted smile. He looks at me, and I think about kissing him—we did have sex the night before, after all—but that feels even more intimate than him coming between my legs.

“Morning. Sleep alright?”

“Slept great.” He leans against the railing in a pair of joggers and a black t-shirt. The cold doesn’t seem to bother him. We’re dozens of stories in the air, but he doesn’t bother looking down. “How about you?”

“For my first time—” I clear my throat. “I mean, first time sleeping in your bed, it wasn’t so bad.”

“It was a night of firsts.” His smile is tight like he’s trying not to laugh. Which I appreciate. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I feel okay.” I frown to myself, focusing on my body for a second. “Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“That’ll pass. The next time will be easier, and the time after that will be easier, and so on.”

“There’s a next time?”

“I think so.” He turns and looks at the ocean.

“I’m not so sure.”

“You enjoyed it. Your first time, and you enjoyed it. Imagine what it’ll be like if we keep going?”

I frown to myself. That’s exactly the problem. If we do keep going, and it only gets better, what’ll happen to us? Right now, we have some kind of uneasy truce—we hate each other, but we’re also fucking because apparently we’re a couple of stupid horndogs that can’t help it—but what if something changes?

“Sex complicates things,” I say after a little while.

“Only people that have bad sex say that.” He shakes his head. “We’re not going to stop.”

“Why are you so damn confident all the time?”

“It’s not hard to be confident when you orgasmed all over my cock last night and moaned as I called you my good girl.”

“Oh, god,” I mutter, ears turning pink. “Could you fucking not? It’s so early.”

“I have some time if you’d like to go back to bed.”

“No, thank you much.”

“Your loss.” He shifts toward me, puts an arm around my waist, and pulls me against him. I let out a surprised yelp as he kisses my cheek. It feels nice, his scruff and his soft lips. It feels good. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I bet you wouldn’t.” I extricate myself. “You should go shower. You’ve got work.”

“I guess so. What are your plans for the day?”

“I thought I’d have a leisurely breakfast, take a bath, wander around. The usual.”

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