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And the stress? Poof. I exhale, relaxing back against the wall. The snatched moments, the stolen nights. It’s getting painful to let her out of my bed.
Morning.
The dots across the top of the screen bounce. Stop bouncing. Bounce. Stop bouncing. I sigh, dialing and taking my cell to my ear. “You know, we could just talk,” I say when she answers.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Why are you whispering?”
“Because we can’t just talk,” she says quietly, and I smile. “Beau and Rose are five meters away from me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Watching Rose be all passive-aggressive with the project manager at the spa.”
I laugh under my breath, flicking my ash. “She’s learned from the best.”
“Where are you?” she asks.
“Missing you.” What the fuck just came out of my mouth? I clear my throat. “At work,” I say, my voice deep, and she laughs. The sound goes straight to my dick, and every moment from last night marches through my memory. And the night before. And the night before that. All stolen moments. But there’s been no penetration without a condom. Apparently, fuck my life, the contraceptive pill isn’t immediately effective. It takes seven days. Seven fucking days. It’s been the longest seven days of my life. On the plus side, I still haven’t got my results back from Doc, so even if the pill was instant protection, I’d still be wearing a condom until I know beyond doubt that I’m clean. That I won’t . . . contaminate her. Which reminds me: I need to pick up some more condoms. “What do you want to do tonight, gorgeous?”
“I don’t know, Daddy.”
I jerk, coughing over my smoke. “Pearl,” I snap, making her laugh again.
“What do you want to do?”
I know exactly what I want to do. Right after Doc tells me I’m all clear. Fuck me, how long do a few tests take? Fast, he said. “Let me think about that.”
“Okay,” she agrees easily, leaving a few beats of silence hanging between us, until she eventually says, “Brad?” Her voice is quiet and unsure.
“What?”
“Did you mean it?” she asks. “When you said . . .” She leaves more silence. “When you said?—”
“When I said no one would touch you again except me?” I ask. I’ve seen the question in her eyes since that night. She’s wanted to ask and has finally found the courage. “I meant it, Pearl.” For my fucking sins, I really fucking meant it.
I hear her relief down the line. “So what happens now?”
James’s Range Rover pulls into the street. “You’re gonna have to let me think about that,” I say, pushing my back from the wall. I know they all think I’m incapable of anything but fucking. I know the girls will take some convincing. I know they think I’ll hurt Pearl, and truth is, deep down, I’m worried I will too. This is new to me—the possessiveness, the pleasure, the fierce protectiveness I’m feeling. My instinct. As for the men? I wince. She’s twenty-fucking-one. Only just legal to drink. “I’ve got to go. Danny and James are here.”
“Where are you going?”
I smile as I take one last puff of my Marlboro and flick it into the gutter. “There are things you’ll need to know, and there are things you won’t. This is one of the won’t need to know things.” I hang up as James pulls over, and I frown when Danny gets out the passenger side and climbs into the back. “What are you doing?”
He falters. “Getting in the back.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to get in the fucking back.”
I exhale heavily, climbing in the passenger seat. “You been smoking in here?” I ask, getting a waft of nicotine.
“Yes, he has,” James says, unimpressed, pulling off fast. He looks at me. “Good morning?”
“Fine. You?”
“Lovely,” they say in unison.
