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“I don’t think you understand.” Her laugher is slightly crazed, letting me know the rumors are true. She’s probably snorted several lines already. “I’m telling you that you can come in here and do whatever you want to me, Bennet. Anything you can think of.”
“I understand,” I tell her, voice getting firm now. “And I’m not interested.”
She looks at me for a long time, and then finally spins and marches back into her dressing room.
Slamming the door, she snaps, “Fine, stay out here and be boring then.”
I turn away from the door, arms crossed over my middle, distaste swirling through me.
And rage, which is probably unfair and makes me a goddamn lunatic.
But the rage comes from the thought of my Lorelei ever behaving in that way, offering herself to a complete stranger when I’m the only man she is ever going to touch.
It makes no sense. Lorelei would never do that.
Yet, she doesn’t know she belongs to me, not fully. She knows I want to fuck her, claim every inch of her, kiss and nip my teeth across her skin, take her young tight hole with my throbbing dick.
Fuck.
Can I tell her, ever?
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I quickly check it.
It’s Rick. Lorelei’s dad. My best friend.
I have to keep reminding myself of the connection, or my resolve will crumble.
Not that it’s far off from crumbling as it is.
Still on for the game when you get home?
Rick’s coming around to my place to watch the football game, something we’ve been doing for years.
I swallow a big ball of guilt.
Yeah, I text back. Can’t wait.
“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath.
There’s another letter waiting for me in my mailbox when I return home. I know it’s from Lorelei because, like the last one, only she calls me Mr. Hunk. Plus I recognize her handwriting now, broad letters as though she’s hinting at how expansive her need is.
Or is that just my obsession making me read too much into things?
I tear it open right, staring down at her words, warning myself to say no. I should tell her I can’t do this. Or ignore her request.
But as I head down the path toward my big empty house, I know I can’t say no, not to my woman, not ever.
Chapter Five
Rory
Yasmin sits cross-legged on my bed, staring at me as her eyebrows shoot higher and higher up her forehead, as though she thinks I might be lying. “I can’t believe you did that. I mean literally, Rory. I honestly cannot believe you did that.”
My cheeks color, heat warming them as I think about it. My heart hasn’t stopped hammering since I did it, reverberating through my chest like it wants to break out of my ribcage.
Is he going to say yes? Do I want him to? What does that mean for me and my dad, for Bennet and my dad?
“So let me get this straight,” Yasmin says. “You wrote him a letter saying you wanted to meet, in person, and delivered the letter yourself… without any input from me whatsoever?”
I remember how it felt walking up to his mailbox, knowing he had cameras watching, my hands trembling as I put the letter inside.
“Yeah, I did.”
She claps her hands together. “Oh, Lorelei. I’m so proud of you.”
“Proud?” I say, way snappier than I intended. “I should be trying my hardest to stay away from him, Yas. I should be doing everything in my power to make sure this never happens. It’s probably a trick, anyway.”
“You said Mr. Hunk would never do that,” Yasmin reminds me.
“Well, yeah. I don’t think he would. But it’s more likely than the alternative, isn’t it?”
“I know you won’t tell me that nitty-gritty of what he wrote to you, but I could tell it was something… um, steamy from the way you spoke about it.”
I giggle. “Steamy?”
“Sorry, I was trying to be classy. Shall I say pornographic instead?”
“No, no steamy is better.” I laugh, even if it’s the last thing I should be doing. “And yeah, you’re right. But that’s another problem. What if all he wants is a quick hookup and that’s it?”
“So what? I say do it,” Yasmin says.
I give her a look. “Do you really think I’m that sort of person? I bet I’d melt in embarrassment the second we got started. Plus I have no freaking clue what I’m doing.”
Yasmin grins, forming an O shape with her two fingers on one hand and guiding the forefinger of her other hand toward it. “Well, it’s not exactly rocket science…”
“Okay, okay.” I wave a hand at her. “I don’t need the visual, thanks. And it’s a little more complicated than that, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m not sure I want a casual fling.”
“Wait a second.” Yasmin leans forward, uncrossing her legs. “Are you saying you want a relationship with Mr. Hunk, I mean Bennet?”
