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The other things, though, therealthings… I was as disgusted by those as I had been about my willingness—eagerness—to welcome Orion’s dick at any time.
Actually… maybemoredisgusted.
I looked forward to sharing breakfasts with him in the morning, even got up early enough to join him in the gym sometimes.
Sickening.
His occasional, random text messages or flower deliveries atNectaror tiny satin-wrapped boxes waiting on my pillow at home gave me butterflies.
Shameful.
Andworstof all were these dinners he insisted I accompany him for; ultra-upscale places I had to get all dressed up for to get possibly stared at, maybe photographed, andabsolutelyhated on by women who’d unquestionably stab me to take my place… Ienjoyedbeing on his arm.
Revolting.
Ihatedhow deeply I’d accepted being Mrs. Sterling.
Diamond earrings and flawlessly cooked salmon shouldn’t hold more weight than how this whole thing had come about and yet here I was sitting across from this man having a good time.
As usual.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Orion spoke up from across the small table. “What’s going on?”
“Maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Have I done something wrong?” he asked. “As I mentioned a moment ago, you’re wearing the earrings I gave you today, so I’m assuming you like them.”
“They’re fine.”
They werefabulous, actually, little white gold, half-butterflies encrusted with diamonds. I’dsquealedwhen I opened the box and was immediately glad that I was alone in the room.
So later, I could pretend to be sufficiently unfazed by them.
“Okay.”
Under the table, he reached for me, grabbing the hand I’d had resting in my lap. I took a deep breath, trying not to feel anything about his thumb skimming back and forth over my skin.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Shit.
I hatedthistoo; the way that my ability to keep my thoughts to myself had deteriorated to the point that all he had to do was touch me, and a solid six out of ten times, I was spilling whatever was on my mind.
This was one of those.
“I’m a little too comfortable,” I admitted, pulling my hand from his. “I don’t like it.”
“Too comfortable with…?”
I rolled my eyes. “You.”
“Me?!” he whispered, a big grin spreading across his face in such a way that made it hard not to smile back.
Impossible, even.
“God you make me sick,” I muttered, shaking my head as I turned away from him to look at literallyanythingelse.
“That statement is in direct opposition to what you said just a second ago,” he teased, palming my calf under the table. “No harm in admitting you’re really starting to fuck with me now.”
