“What did Mike have to say about that?”
“He didn’t even try to pretend. He just looked me in the eye and told me he wanted my engagement ring back.”
I cupped her face in my hand, trying to erase the expression of sadness she wore.
“I’d been lied to and manipulated. I’d fallen for his charm and compliments and . . .” She shook her head. “I was such a fool.”
“No,” I said. “He was the fool.”
“Anyway, apparently he’s in Monaco now. No doubt trying to land a rich wife.”
“Something tells me you didn’t bounce back quite so easily.” Perhaps she still hadn’t, given I’d found her sleeping in the spare room this morning.
“You were the first date I’d had since it all happened.”
I frowned but she answered my question before it had fully formed in my brain. “It was six years ago.”
Things started to slot into place. Arthur happy to have me take her to dinner. Gifting us the honeymoon. He wanted his daughter to trust someone again.
I sat and pulled her onto my lap. “He’s the one to blame in all this.”
“I know. But now I never know if someone likes me because of who I am or because of what they think I can give them.”
I sighed. “Everyone wants something.”
“Exactly. It’s impossible to know who to trust.”
“That’s not what I meant. More that anyone in your life will have expectations—maybe it’s loyalty. Compassion. Maybe it’s protection. Friendship. A shoulder to cry on. A good time. Sex. Status. Money. Whatever it is, we give and we take. That’s just human nature. It’s more that he pretended to be different than who he was. And deep down, his values—what he wanted from you—didn’t align with yours. And vice versa. He couldn’t offer you what you needed.”
She snaked an arm around my waist and pressed her cheek against my chest. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”
We lay in comfortable silence for what felt like hours. “I like talking with you,” she said finally. “You’re not meant to have abs like this”—she prodded my stomach—“and be wise and thoughtful. It’s strictly forbidden.”
“You can trust me,” I said. “You can have my shoulder to cry on any time you need it. I promise you honesty. And friendship. And—”
“Good sex?” She laughed, and I felt every muscle in my body unlock.
“I’m not Mike,” I said.
She sucked in a deep breath. “I just don’t know how to navigate this.”
“What about one step at a time?” I suggested.
“You think it’s going to be easy?”
“I think every day with you is easy. Much easier than a day without you.”
She shrugged. “So we just . . .” She grimaced. “Go with the flow?”
I laughed and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Try it. You might enjoy it.”
Her hands smoothed over my shoulders. “Does that mean I get to touch you like this for the next ninety days?”
“I positively encourage it.”
She took my hand and slid my fingers between her legs. “Does it mean you get to touch me like this for the next ninety days?”
I pushed my thumb over her clit and dipped two fingers inside her as she met me with a swivel of her hips. “Oh absolutely. There will be lots of that.”
I caught her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and began to squeeze and roll and pull. “And there will be some of this.” I shifted and pushed her back onto the bed, the angle giving me better access. I pushed my fingers deeper. “And more of this.”
I lay down between her thighs and replaced my thumb with my tongue. I began to lick and flick and grind into her. “And don’t forget this.” By the time I was done with her, she’d never dare leave my bed again.
“Oh god, it’s not enough,” she groaned. It wasn’t exactly the phrase I liked to hear in bed. I lifted myself up on my hands to see her face. “I need you inside of me.” That was better. “I want to be full of you.” That was much better.
I couldn’t help but smile. I liked her needy and pleading. It was so different from the capable, independent woman she was at every other moment of the day. Seeing both sides of her, and knowing I was the only one to do so, was intoxicating.
I kneeled up, rolled a condom over my straining cock, and without warning, pushed into her, trying not to explode as she arched off the bed. “Like this?”
“Oh god. I can’t breathe,” she gasped. “I actually can’t breathe. You feel so good.”
“You like me deep inside you, pushing into you like this?” I started up my rhythm, trying to ignore how she grabbed at the sheets, pushed her hands into her hair, bit down on her lip. Like she was possessed. By me.
“Always,” she huffed out. “Always so good.”