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He grins at me, shaking his head slightly, then kisses me on the neck before getting up to dispose of the condom.
When he comes back, I’m still lying there, shocked, pleased, and frankly a little terrified—because it was the kind of experience that changes a person, and I don’t know if I want to be changed that way.
“Come take a shower with me,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. And I honestly can’t think of anything I’d rather do. Of course, we don’t just take a shower. He takes me from behind against the wall, because he says he can’t go all night without taking me this way—those shorts have given him an imagination. Minutes later, he tells me the reality is better than anything he came up with in his mind.
I have to say he’s right.
It’s late, and he should go. I know he should go, but when he climbs back into bed with me, both of us still not completely dry from the shower, I don’t stop him. And I don’t stop him when he pulls the covers up over us and holds me to him as if I matter. As if this weren’t just about fucking out the energy that’s been zinging between us for years.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs to me. “Do you know how hard it’s been to pretend not to notice?”
“Yes,” I admit, unable to stop myself from smiling at him. “Why do you think I taunt you?”
He runs a hand over my jaw, cupping it, and then kisses me—a soft kiss from a hard man, and I feel it all the way down to my toes, the tingle coursing through me and reminding me how good he feels, how unexpectedly right.
Just tonight.
Then he pulls back, smiling, and says, “I thought you taunted me because you’re a little brat, and you can’t help yourself.”
I scowl and pinch his arm. He tickles my side, and just when I’m on the verge of getting up to stomp my foot, he wraps his arm around me, his body spooning mine with warmth. It feels…nice.
But it shouldn’t feel nice with him.
“You can’t stay, Shane,” I say, almost sad about it.
I expect him to object, or maybe to insist he’d never wanted to stay, but he surprises me. “I know. But I’d like to lie here with you for a little longer. Get the most out of my one night. You know I like to capitalize on my wins.”
“Okay,” I say, my throat thick.
“I need to go talk to Danny tomorrow,” he says into my ear, making me flinch.
“You’re going to tell him about this?” I ask, alarmed.
He laughs, but there’s an edge to it. “No, I don’t plan on telling him I fucked his sister until my dick felt raw, but I need to tell him about our agreement and your mother. Unless you’d prefer to do it first.”
He says it like someone who feels a deep-seated need to do it first but is struggling to be polite. Fine by me. I’d prefer to go second, and if that makes me a coward, so be it.
“You can do it,” I say. “You like taking control of things.”
“So do you, Ruthie.” One side of his mouth lifts in a delicious smirk that I don’t want to like. I don’t want to like him either. I remind myself of earlier, of his attitude about Vanny and his superciliousness about my mother.
He kisses the side of my neck, then peers into my eyes. His eyes are wells of color. Intense. Is this what it feels like to be on the jury in one of his cases? No wonder he’s had so many wins. “You know,” he finally says. “I’m not sorry.”
Neither am I.
I feel good. I feel great. I feel like I could climb a mountain. Or succeed at something, anything, I set my mind to.
Because if I can conquer Shane Royce, I can conquer the world.
When I wake up, my first impression is that the bed is empty. It’s cold, and I have a flash of loneliness. Of wishing he’d stayed, even though it had been my intention to kick him out and leave him to the questionable mercies of Mrs. Longhorn.
But then I notice it, winking up at me from the pillow—my red engagement ring.
It shouldn’t make me feel anything. It’s as fake and meaningless as the marriage license I signed, and the fact that Shane and I had some fun doesn’t change that. But there’s no denying the ache in my chest. It’s because of what happened before, I decide. Because of Rand and the way he walked out on me. Because marriage is so often a hollow shell.
Still, I put it on a chain and slip it around my neck before I leave the room to make my coffee. It’ll be a little secret, just for me.
I check my phone, and there’s a single message from Shane—
