Tempt The Playboy (Tempt 2)

Why am I leaving? Why don’t I just go upstairs and tell him I want coffee? Why don’t I go and make him breakfast and serve him in bed? Why don’t I wake him by sucking his cock? The answer to this is I have no fucking clue. My first instinct is to run. I open the door when the app tells me that my driver is waiting outside. I pick up my shoes, carrying them in my hands along with my outfit from last night. I make it home without my phone buzzing. Maybe he is going to wake up and think I had something to do. Maybe I should have left him a note, I say to myself, while the devil on my shoulder puts in her two cents, ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have left.’

I get out of the Uber and try to sneak into the house, but I hear voices. I tiptoe into the kitchen, clothes in my hand, purse hanging from my wrist.

“Look what the slut dragged in,” Lauren says, leaning against the counter next to Austin.

His arms go around her. She glances up at him with a ‘your penis is so good’ kind of look.

“Funny, funny, ha-ha. I take it the cobwebs have been cleared out?” I fire back.

“Oh, there are definitely no cobwebs in there,” Austin murmurs with a little smirk. “Isn’t that Noah’s shirt?” he asks.

“I hope you told him you were leaving, Kaleigh.” She looks at Austin. “She isn’t exactly known for sticking around the morning after. She, um, likes to leave before it can get awkward.”

I glare at her while she tells Austin this.

“He’s going to lose his shit,” Austin states.

“Did you use my almond milk?” I ask while he continues to drink his coffee and shakes his head. “Oh. So, you used the breast milk, then?”

Austin spits his coffee out of his mouth all over the counter. I smile wide, crossing my arms over my chest on the island.

“What?” he questions, looking into his cup and then looking at Lauren.

“She’s just messing with you.” Lauren laughs. “You are going to clean up that mess.” She points to the counter that now has his coffee splattered all over it.

“I’m not messing with him. I ordered frozen breast milk this week and switched it out,” I inform her, while she looks inside her coffee cup. “You put butter in my potatoes, remember?” I raise my hand up in fists, hitting them together.

“You let me drink someone’s breast milk?” She throws the coffee down the drain along with the rest of the milk. “That’s sick, Kay.”

“Where the fuck do you even order breast milk from?” Austin is looking under the sink for cleaning products. “Do we need to get, like, a hepatitis shot or something?” he asks, coming up with some Windex in his hand.

“I ordered it online.” I shrug my shoulder. “I switched it yesterday morning after the kids left,” I say as I study my nails, while Austin and Lauren start to freak out. I giggle to myself.

“What if the woman has a disease? Jesus! Could we catch it?” Austin turns to Lauren. “I feel a little funny.” He puts his hand to his stomach, making us both roll our eyes.

“Relax, it was from a reputable website for mothers who can’t produce enough milk.” I try to reassure them right before someone starts banging on the front door.

“Kaleigh! Are you in there?” Noah yells from outside.

I open my eyes wide, my mouth opening and nothing is coming out. It’s like I am caught eating candy before dinner.

Austin smirks at me and walks to the door to open it. “Hey, man.”

I hear from the front door. I’m about to get up and rush out the back door. I eye the house, looking for an exit plan.

“Come in. Can I get you some coffee? With or without breast milk?” Austin asks as Noah follows him, looking at him like he’s crazy.

“What are you doing here?” Noah walks into the kitchen and eyes Lauren dressed in Austin’s now buttoned-up shirt before shifting his gaze to me.

“You took my shirt? And then you just fucking left?” He puts his hands to his waist. He looks like he just rushed out of the house, which he probably did. His T-shirt fits him so snug I want to rake my hands up his shirt and fall to my knees.

“She’s not good with the whole morning-after thing,” Lauren adds, trying to be helpful, while I shoot her a glare and then up it with the middle finger.

Noah walks toward me. No, that isn’t a good word for it. He pounces on me like I am his prey. He turns me around on the stool as he cages me in between his arms with his hands braced against the counter. “I thought we said we were doing yoga this morning?” He leans into me.