Page 43 of The Naughty List


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“Rena . . .”

“No, Blair. You have a real chance here. He’s hurting, and if this is what you really want, then you need to put the effort in and make things right with him. You hurt him when you left, and that kind of heartbreak leaves scars.”

“But my whole life is over there in New York.”

“Your whole life was over there in Blushing once upon a time, too. But you figured out how to pack it all up and move across the country. If this is really what you want and you decide that you’re ready to start the life you were always supposed to have, then we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to leave you stranded. Hell, even if you need someone to meet with potential employees over here, you know I’m your girl.”

“Shit, Rena.”

“You’re telling me.”

I let out a heavy breath, hearing my phone beeping from down in my room. “This is a lot to think about.”

“I know it is, but like I said, no one is rushing you to make a decision. You can still start up your business and get that underway while you figure out everything else. In the meantime, you owe it to yourself to at least explore things with Nick. And God knows he deserves a conversation from you—a real one, not some bullshit screaming match.”

“I know.”

“Alright, girl. Think on it.”

“I will,” I say. “And do me a favor. Stop packing my things. You’re gonna mess it all up.”

Rena rolls her eyes before purposefully grabbing the vase off my kitchen counter and putting it into the box beside her. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” she teases. “Love ya.” And with that, the screen goes dark.

Letting out a heavy breath, I close the screen before getting up and making something to eat, only when my phone beeps again, I remember that a text had come through earlier. Striding out of the kitchen, I stop by the living room to put some more wood on the fire before having to scramble through my bedsheets in search of my phone. When I find it, the blood drains from my face.

A new text from a number I haven’t received any communication from in six long years.

Nick.

I swallow hard, my heart racing as I open the text and quickly read over it.

Nick - Wow. Three times. I’m impressed. I was taking a wild shot in the dark guessing that you still thought about me when you came, but last night’s performance was the perfect confirmation. Between you and me, you used to scream louder when it was me fucking you.

Holy. Shit.

16

NICK

Awickedgrinspreadsacross my face remembering the text I sent Blair two days ago. I wasn’t expecting a show as I knelt down in front of her fireplace to light the bastard up, but if she wanted to put on a performance, I was all too happy to take it all in.

Her groans. The way her bed creaked under her as she crept closer to her climax. The way she panted, gasping for air. But fuck, the self-control it took me not to burst down that hall and taste her when I heard my name on her lips almost took me out.

The first time, it brought me to my knees, and I couldn’t even feel guilt for overhearing her like that. Hell, the moment has played on repeat in my head ever since. If only I could have snuck down the hall and watched her, seen the way her cheeks flushed, seen the way her back arched off the mattress, seen the way those beautiful thighs shook as she came. I’ve got one hell of an imagination, but it could never compare to the real thing.

Fuck.

I need to get a grip.

I’m not going to lie, after the first time she came, the fire was already roaring, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. My heart was probably pounding faster than hers. I sat on her nana’s old couch and listened as she took herself to the edge, two and then three times. The sound was like music to my ears.

It was fucking glorious, the best Christmas present I could have asked for. Second to only one thing—finally being able to call her mine. But I’m a fucking fool for wanting that.

Shit. This makes me a fucking creep, doesn’t it?

I snuck out before I could risk hearing her start for her fourth round, because if I had heard her again, I would have broken my vow to make her beg for it, but surely she didn’t. She couldn’t have possibly gone again . . . right? Hell, she always was a little firecracker, able to keep up with me perfectly. If she did go for a fourth, I wouldn’t have been surprised. Hell, I should have stayed and applauded her efforts. After all, everyone deserves a party after achieving greatness.

After sending her that message, I watched as the three little dots appeared on the screen. They came and they went, and the process repeated for at least two hours, and all I could do was laugh. She definitely had no idea I was still in the house, but I’m guessing she pieced it together when she woke up and realized the fire was still burning.

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