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I swipe my bottle off the floor, unscrewing the cap, but offer no excuse for how it had fallen in the first place. Hoping he doesn’t notice the tremble in my hand, I bring it up to my lips and take a healthy sip. This time, I really wish it were alcohol.
“Then my necklace fell off and Creed helped me put it back on.”
A mischievous smirk crawls across Marius’ lips. “Is that right?”
“Yes.” I square my shoulders as I face Creed. “Thanks for your assistance.”
Creed narrows his gaze on me. “It was my pleasure. As always.”
A shiver runs down my spine in response to his sinful tone, the meaning behind his words not lost on me.
“Right then.” I force a smile. “Goodnight.”
“Princess,” Creed says.
I turn toward Marius but don’t look him directly in the eyes. “See you in the morning, Mari.”
“You’d better believe it… Princess.” He winks.
Spinning around, I hurry from the kitchen and up the stairs, slipping into my room to find Jameson in the same position as when I left.
I sink against the door, drawing in deep breath after deep breath, my body aching from the orgasm it was so cruelly deprived of.
And maybe that’s what I deserve.
Creed and I were careless. Anyone could have walked in on us. In the throes of passion, I didn’t care, but that was when I was enjoying the effects of my addiction.
Now that I’ve come down from my high, I can see how wrong it was.
How reckless it was.
Luckily, it was just Marius who interrupted us. It could have been a lot worse.
Which is why I need to keep my distance.
The next time, we may not be so lucky.
Chapter Twenty-One
Esme
“God, I hope no one notices,” I mutter to myself as I check my reflection in the mirror, examining my neck.
While the marks where Creed bit me last night aren’t too pronounced, they still make me self-conscious. Especially considering I’m sharing a bed with another man.
When Jameson woke up this morning, I pretended to be asleep, keeping the duvet pulled tight up to my chin.
But I can’t avoid him forever.
I also can’t ignore my friends forever, a fact Marius reminded me of with the text he just sent, threatening to haul my ass down to the beach if I’m not out there in the next twenty minutes.
What do I say to him? Do I play it off and pretend it was nothing? Claim his imagination was just running wild?
Or do I finally confide in the only two people I trust with this secret?
I smooth a hand down my hair that I styled in a braid that falls over my right shoulder, another layer of protection against the mark Creed left on my neck. Placing my oversized hat on my head and slinging my beach bag on my arm, I draw in a deep breath. Then I make my way through the house and out the back door, the sound of laughter cutting over the crashing waves and the ocean breeze.
When I emerge onto the beach, a game of volleyball is already underway, Anderson and Creed on one team, Jasper and Jameson on the other.
