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The sound system is playing a slow song, and she feels so right against my body. It’s like her curves fill in every notch.
Even in the corset.
God, the corset. Has Mandy ever looked so sexy?
Yes. That night at my parents’ house. In that pink camisole. When I had some very un–Mandy Cake thoughts about her.
Yet the thoughts I’m having now? They make the thoughts I had then feel like a schoolboy crush.
That night, I didn’t think about rimming her perfect little asshole.
That night, I didn’t think about tying her up.
Nope. That night, I just thought about her in a sexual way for the first time.
Now that I’ve had her?
I’m not sure I can let her go.
I have to. I must.
I dart my gaze around the room—
Blossom.
Damn.
Boner killer.
And I realize…
I can’t do this.
I can’t put Mandy in any impending danger. Look what happened with Blossom. And while I care about Blossom, like her as a person, she means nothing to me compared to Mandy.
I cannot risk Mandy being hurt. I absolutely cannot.
I brush her away from me. “We need to leave.”
Her jaw drops. “What?”
“You heard me. I need to get you out of here.”
She whips her hands to her hips. “I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are. You’re my guest. If I’m not here, you can’t be here.”
“Youarehere, Jack.”
“Not for long.” I head toward Claude’s desk.
Mandy yanks on my arm, and I turn to face her.
“No, Jackson. I’m not going to let you do this. You’re not going to run away again.”
“Who says I’m running away?”
“You ran away the last time. You told me this could never happen again. Then you show up at my house and run away in the middle of the night. And now?” She shakes her head. “You’re not running away from me this time. We’re going to do this.”
