Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
I rushed to cut him off, not wanting to hear a promise he couldn’t keep. “Nothing will happen, because I’m going to get the morning-after pill right now.”
I stood.
We both watched as his cock slid out of me, inch by inch. I towered over him, wet and vulnerable. Shivering.
His semen trickled down my inner thigh.
“You don’t have to.” He clasped the back of my knees, closed his eyes, and kissed my pussy, breathing me in. “I would never do you wrong. Never turn my back on a child of mine.”
A lash of panic whipped my back.
I snorted to hide the ball of tears in my throat and stepped over him. “Trust me, no part of me wants to be an elaborate oopsie that snowballed into a scandal.”
He stood, following me. “You’re not a mistake, and you’re not a scandal.”
“Are you going to tuck me and the baby somewhere far away?” I wrapped myself in one of his lush towels. “Send us a check every month?”
He scowled, drying off. “That’s not what I meant.”
But I didn’t stick around to find out.
“Farrow.” His footsteps came from behind me, gaining speed. “Don’t run away from me.”
Then, convince me to stay. End your engagement. Tell me I matter.
He did no such thing.
I stumbled into the hallway, rushing to my room.
If he saw my face, he’d see the tears. The pain. The confusion.
Because what happened in his bathtub didn’t feel like sex.
It felt like making love.
“Farrow, wait.”
I slammed the door in his face.
Hoping my heart could lock, too.
The next morning, the universe showed off its twisted sense of humor.
I returned home from Walgreens, popping Plan B onto my tongue and guzzling it down with clearance orange juice, a day from its expiration.
But as soon as I stepped out of my Prius, the telltale trickle of my period slid down my thigh.
“Goddammit.”
By the time I finished showering away the blood, my mood had taken a nosedive. I descended the stairs, ready to raid the kitchen for something sweet and decadent.
Zach drifted down the halls somewhere, surely marching like a demon looking for his pound of flesh. I’d managed to dodge him all morning and planned to do so into the evening.
My phone buzzed with another text, probably from Zach.
Still, I checked it just in case, frowning at the name that flashed.
Andras:
Tomorrow. Same time.
I careened to a stop, wondering how to reply.
This marked our first contact since the news broke about my cheating scandal. I figured he needed time to process the news before unceremoniously dumping me, along with his dreams of fostering an Olympic gold medalist.
In the end, I settled for something simple.
Farrow:
K.
I slipped into the pantry without bothering with the lights, rummaging through the snack baskets when the door shut behind me.
Darkness blanketed the room. I fisted a bag of cookies and sighed, turning for the knob.
I crashed against a muscular chest, gasping.
“You’re avoiding me.” Zach’s voice seeped straight between my thighs, an area he apparently had on speed dial.
I hated how my traitorous body never seemed in sync with the rest of my opinion of him.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “This seems to be a recurring theme in our relationship.”
“Another thing that seems reoccurring in our relationship is my willingness to spend all my time, effort, and resources on you, while you completely disregard me.”
“Your Boss of the Year award is on its way.” I sighed. “What do you want, Zach?”
“Your company. Your attention. Your pussy. Just to name a few.” He paused, consuming the tiny space with his presence. “We have a deal.”
Ah.
Our deal.
Our stupid, cursed deal.
“We have a deal that we’ll fool around when time permits. We don’t have a deal that I’m at your beck and call. Your ‘pussy for hire.’” I air-quoted the crass words, though he couldn’t see it in the dark. “I’m not your whore, Zachary.”
He crowded me against the shelves, his hand finding my cheek with eerie precision. “I never said you were.”
Zach lowered his head to get a taste of me.
I turned my face away on instinct. “Can’t right now. Just got my period. No hanky panky.”
“I don’t mind if you’re okay with it.”
“Well, I’m not okay with it. And actually, I have to go.”
Not a lie, per se.
I did have to go.
To my room.
To decompress from all the feelings haunting me since we had sex.
His breaths came out faster. “Go where?”
“A date,” I blurted out, cursing myself for such a stupid lie.
“A date?” His hands slammed on the shelves behind me.
“Nice hearing, Zach. Yes. A date.” I licked my lips. “I told you—we’re not exclusive.”
“Name your price for exclusivity.” It occurred to me that he didn’t ask for the date’s name for one simple reason—he’d find out himself anyway. His fingertips grazed my collarbone. “Is it the pendant that you want?”
More than I want revenge.