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We lay there for what feels like forever.
“I should get back to my own room soon,” I say, when he finally rolls sideways, taking his time sliding out of me.
“Why?” he asks as I stare at the ceiling, still out of breath.
“Because my friends are probably wondering where I got to.”
He snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure they may have worked it out.”
I remember his present to me, and I feel up to my earlobes, running my fingertips over the beautiful diamond earrings he bought me.
He wanted to see me wearing them, them and nothing else. “Do you like your gift?” he asks, turning on his side to look at me, noticing my movement.
“I love them,” I say quietly. “They’re perfect.”
“Not as perfect as you.” His hand strokes my hip as he makes my heart race, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Diamonds suit you, and you deserve the best, Ariana. Any man blessed in your company should be treating you like a queen. You shouldn’t take less than you deserve, remember that always.”
I don’t know if he means his son in particular, or just men in general, but I dare not ask.
And he’s also right. I have been taking far less than I deserve.
Being with a man who appreciates you, even if it is just for one night, makes you reevaluate a lot of things.
When I don’t reply, not out of rudeness, I just don’t know what to say to that, I feel his weight shift as he props up on his elbow. I turn my head to look at him.
“Ariana?”
I bite my lip.
Please God, don’t ask me.
I wait for it.
“Did James…”
“Can we not do this?” I start, pulling the sheet up to cover my body, tucking it under my armpits.
“I want to know if he hurt you.”
I frown at him. “Aside from my feelings? Then that’s a no.”
He stares at me with those eyes that I can’t lie to. “You didn’t love him?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but you said aside from your feelings. You didn’t mention your heart being broken.”
God, this is uncomfortable.
“I don’t know if we should be talking about your son and my relationship with him while we’re in bed together,” I snap, sitting upright.
“Why not? It’s a simple question.”
“Because it’s not appropriate!” I don’t know why I’m so mad. Maybe because I feel a bit guilty that James’s dad just fucked me, and he’s a hundred times better than James ever was.
Heat flushes in my cheeks as I try not to compare.
“You’re overthinking it,” he tells me, and he doesn’t go to stop me when I climb out of bed in search of my clothes.
