AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Do I regret it?I ask myself, but I can’t find a single regret in any inch of my body. I’ve never been fucked like that, talked to like that, treated like that. I went into this with the expectations of just being friends, but now, I . . . I close my eyes. I don’t know what this is. An itch scratched? Probably. Like Tori said, he doesn’t seem the type to commit. Not that I’d want to.
Right?
God damn it, that’s a lie.
I need to pull myself together and give myself a stern reality check.
He returns with a towel in his hand and cleans me up. “I should have worn a condom,” he says quietly.
When he’s done, I stand up and stretch out my lower back. I don’t miss the way his eyes roam my naked body, nor the flash of attraction and appreciation in them. “I’m on the pill.”
His eyes flick to mine, and he gives a curt nod before leaning forward and pressing a soft, tender kiss to my lips. When he pulls away, he brushes the back of his knuckles against my neck where I’m sure there’s a giant red mark. After he’s done admiring it, he heads to his shirt and slides it on, giving me the cue to put back on my own clothes.
“Thanks for ah . . . thanks for that.” God, that was awkward, but my emotions are all over the place, and I’m a little confused at them.
“Anytime,” he says, and not in a dismissive way. It was said in the way that he means it, that I should approach him the next time I want to get laid. Although I shouldn’t, I make a mental note of that, because, afterthat mind-blowing encounter, I definitely want to revisit it again. I just worry that it means more to me than I’m letting on.
To distract myself from that thought, I slip my tank top over my breasts, flick my hair out of the way, and say, “So, I’m making friends in town.”
“Mm?” he hums, his back to me as he heads to the back of the couch.
“The sheriff, to be exact.”
He stops moving the couch back to its place, and I don’t miss the way his shoulders tense.
I sigh. “Yeah, he doesn’t seem to like you either. Why is that?”
Turning to look at me, he rests his ass against the back of the couch where he had me bent over and crosses his arms over his chest. “We have our reasons.”
“No answers again?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow. And here I thought a little sex might open him up. “Was he the one who . . . you know” – I wave a hand around my space – “put you in jail?”
He gives one firm nod like it was difficult for him to admit it. I feel almost a little guilty for ruining the mood.
I pick up the sprayer and twirl the hose, lost in thought. “I just feel sorry for him, you know? Holding hope that he’ll see his brother again. They must have been really close.”
“They were,” he grunts. “Derek and him, not so much.”
“Yeah,” I say, sighing. I twist my lips to the side as I add, “Is Derek really a businessman or something? He seems to have a lot going on.”
He crosses one ankle over the other. “As of right now, they’re not fully his. He’s just in charge of them. Everything he has right now, he’ll inherit. The thrift store, thebowling alley, this house. Most of the rentals he bought on his own from the income of the others.”
“Oh, inherited from his parents?”
He shakes his head. “From Neil.”
My expression widens. “I’m sure that pissed him off that he had all these other new responsibilities. Why didn’t he just pass some of it off to Sheriff Smith? Was there a will or something?”
“No will,” he grunts. “It was court-appointed as next of kin when the FBI declared him dead. There are still hoops he and his lawyer are jumping through before they can fully be his. And Derek likes the income; don’t let his new-found business ventures fool you. He had nothing before Neil died. As the second oldest child, their parents left him nothing.”
“Everything was left to Neil?” I ask, knowing I’m pressing my luck because he’s actually holding a conversation with me. Maybe my pussy really was the key? I should feel a little used, but . . . well, I don’t. Something I did softened him up, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t do something for me too.
He nods. “As for Sheriff Smith, he and Derek don’t get along.”
“At all?”
His shrug is small. “They have tea every afternoon over lunch at Smith’s house, but I think they do that for appearances.”
“Right. Small town gossip.”
