“We may have placed our own wager on it,” she said in a breezy tone.
I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. So, I asked, “What kind of wager?”
She moved behind one of the displays, sniffing a candle before setting it back down and wriggling her nose. She picked up another, never returning my gaze. “Oh. It’s nothing. Just a little friendly competition between colleagues.”
Yeah. I wasn’t buying it.
“Didn’t seem very friendly,” I said, remembering the way he’d looked at her. As if he were a man on a sugar-free diet, and she was the most delicious dessert he’d ever seen.
She, however, did not seem interested in him. Like, at all.
I didn’t want to evaluate why that pleased me so much, but it did. Still, as she moved over to assess some rugs, I sensed this matter wasn’t open for discussion.
I also sensed that she was upset, and I didn’t like it. I might have let the matter slide for the moment, but I had other ways of coaxing the information out of her.
She suggested a few rugs, and we picked out some lamps before heading to the next store. I didn’t ask about Luther and the bet again, but that didn’t mean I’d forgotten about it. Far from it. I was simply biding my time, waiting for the right moment.
And that moment finally came after Lauren’s second orgasm.
We flopped back on the bed, and I pulled her so she was lying on top of me. My skin was slick with sweat from exertion, and she brushed her hair back from her forehead. For once, I wasn’t concerned with the message I was sending, I just wanted to be with her. Hold her. Was it because I knew she didn’t want more?
With our legs intertwined and her head resting on my chest, I traced lazy designs on her skin. “Lauren?”
“Hmm?” she hummed. She sounded sleepy or maybe just relaxed. Two orgasms would do that to you.
“Tell me about Luther.”
I felt her tense beneath me, but her tone was calm when she spoke. “What’s there to tell?”
“I get the impression you don’t particularly like him,” I said, prodding gently.
She balled her hand into a fist. “What is there to like about a pompous asshole who trades in gossip?”
I stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the relationship. Trying to figure out where the bet fit into it. “Is that why you made a bet with him?”
She nodded. “He proposed it, and I thought it might get him to finally shut up.”
“So, he agreed to stop harassing you if you won?” I asked, surprised that she didn’t just tell him to go fuck himself. A woman like Lauren would do that. What was I missing?
When she nodded again, I asked, “And what does he get if he wins?”
“I, um—” She blew out a breath. “It’s never going to happen, so don’t worry about it. ’Kay?”
“Worry about what, exactly?”
She was silent a long moment, long enough for me to be concerned. My heart picked up pace, and I knew in my gut I wouldn’t like the answer.
“Lauren?” I gripped her biceps, lifting her so I could look her in the eye. What wasn’t she telling me?
“If Luther wins, and that’s a big if, I agreed to spend the night with him.” She held my gaze.
“What is this—a joke?” I wasn’t sure whether I was asking about our relationship or her bet with Luther.
She shook her head, her lips flattening into a thin line. I clenched the sheets to keep from digging my fingers into her skin. I had a feeling with how angry I was, my touch would leave a mark.
“Hunter.” She placed a hand on my shoulder, her own touch a reminder of what we had together. Of what I stood to lose over a stupid fucking bet. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not fucking okay.” I sat, letting the sheet fall to my waist. “I can’t believe you’d bet…something like that.” My mind was spinning so fast, images of them together making my vision cloud.
