Lorenzo Beretta (Unseen Underground 1)

“Fuck.” I yanked my cock out, wide-eyed. “Fuck!” I clenched my hands, backing away from her. “I didn’t use a condom.”

“You didn’t…” Aida laughed and sat up, grabbing the nearest thing to her—my shirt—and wrapping it around her body. “You didn’t wear a condom?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I made a mistake.” I always wore protection. Always. But I’d been so wrapped up in her that I hadn’t even thought about it. She’d made me forget. She’d made me forge

t my own rules.

AIDA

“I made a mistake.”

His words spun around and around in my mind. Someone had clicked the repeat button because I couldn’t get them out of my head as I stared at him. He was an Adonis who stood in front of me naked, his abs tensing as he backed away another step, his hands outstretched as if he was trying to find his way.

I stood, my stomach rolling and threatening to bring up everything I’d eaten that day.

He’d made a mistake.

Shaking my head, I stepped toward his bedroom door, noticing how he was still staring at the bed as if he could change what just happened.

He’d made a mistake.

My chest heaved as I walked away from him and across the hall, hearing his murmurings as I went. My backpack sat in a heap next to my door, but I didn’t have the energy to pick it up. Instead, I quietly opened my door and stepped inside my room.

He’d made a mistake.

No.

I had made a mistake.

I’d made a mistake thinking he was anything but an asshole. I’d made a mistake in saying I would marry him. I’d made the mistake when I’d let him slip the ring on my finger.

I swallowed, trying to make the lump in my throat disappear, but it was no use. I’d let him have a part of me. I’d given myself over like I was worth nothing. I hated it. I hated him. But more than that, I hated myself.

My feet carried me to my bathroom, my body working on automatic as I walked toward the shower. I didn’t bother taking off the shirt I was wearing. I just stepped inside, turned the water on, and relished in the cold blasting against me. It quickly warmed up, soothing me. But it wasn’t enough to get his words out of my head or the feel of him inside me.

I could feel his cum running down my inner thigh, a reminder of what I’d done. What he’d done. What I’d let him do.

Why did I let him? I choked on a sob. Why did I let him do that? I wasn’t anything more than a lay to him—an easy lay at that. All it had taken was the prospect of me being with another man, and he’d jumped on it, used it to his advantage. And I’d been the fool to not see it. I’d been the dumbass to take him at face value.

My head dropped down, my gaze focusing on the water as it rinsed down the drain, taking all of my sins with it, and for a moment, I wished it would take me too. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring at the bottom of the shower, but at some point, I stepped out in a daze complete with wrinkly fingers.

I tried to tell myself to snap out of it, to pretend like it never happened, but I couldn’t, not when I was still wrapped up in his shirt. I growled, trying to pull it off of my wet skin, but it wouldn’t budge, fusing to me like it never wanted to let go.

“Get off!” I screamed. “Get off, get off, get off!” I shouted over and over again, not stopping until the white material was gone and I stood naked in the middle of my bedroom. “Get off,” I croaked out again. “Get off.” My words turned to whispers, my fight leaving me feeling like an empty shell.

“Aida?” I gasped at the voice on the other side of the door. “Dinner is ready.” I pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find relief that it was Mrs. Larson and not Lorenzo.

“I…” My hand skimmed to my neck. “I’m not coming down for dinner today.”

Silence, and then, “Shall I tell Mr. Beretta?”

I gritted my teeth. He wouldn’t care anyway. He’d used me yet again, and I’d been stupid enough to not see it coming. “Tell him whatever you want, Mrs. Larson.” I stepped toward my bed, then dove under the covers, wrapping myself up in a protective cocoon.

“Okay,” she said, her voice sounding farther away now. “I’ll let Mr. Beretta know.”

“You do that,” I whispered, closing my eyes and hoping that everything I’d done was just a bad dream.

CHAPTER 11