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Cruz:Ok, see you tomorrow. Love u.
I briefly turn away, knowing Masen will voice his opinion any minute now.
“Aren’t you going to respond? I love you too,” he mocks.
My gaze flicks back to him as my jaw clenches from the anger brewing inside me.
“You’re a jerk. You know that?” I charge with frustration. “What makes you think I want to even stay here with you?”
He reaches out and tugs the bedsheet down. Then, he grabs my wrist and pins me beneath him. My mind is telling me to yell at him to get off me.
But my body is committing the ultimate betrayal.
It wantsmore.
Masen raises my wrists above my head, holding me down as his free hand wanders between my thighs.
I gasp at his touch. The sheer pleasure from his fingers grazing against my clit. I’m held captive to him once again, with no chance of escaping this spell he’s put me under.
“If you weren’t soaking wet again, I might think you don’t want to be here.”
“Make me come again,” I beg of him.
“Say it louder,” he demands, thrusting his fingers inside me so carelessly. “Come on, Miss Edwards. I’m waiting.”
I arch my back, bringing my breasts closer to him. He sucks on my nipples, causing my body to melt entirely.
“Please, make me come, now.”
A dirty smile plays on his lips. “Good girl. Your wish is my command.”
Thirteen
Addison
There’s something to be said about the walk of shame. It gives you too much time to think about all the things youshouldn’thave done.
Take, for example—fucking someone you loath. Not only once but more times than you can count on your fingers. And as if I need another reminder, the sting between my legs is a pleasant memory of just how large he is and just how rough he took me.
On top, from behind, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl—too many positions to even list.
Was I complaining at the time? Of course not, quite the opposite—I begged for more. I was a woman possessed and succumbed to fantasies I didn’t even know existed.
All of it was new to me. The few men I’d been with were not adventurous nor confident in the bedroom, so maybe my sisters were right. I don’t know what I’m missing if I’ve never experienced something. I’ve tasted the forbidden fruit, and boy is it sweet and sinful.
I leave Masen’s apartment with a quick goodbye and no parting words. What is there left to say? We agreed to nothing more, and somehow we’ve ended up here. It’s not appropriate to call it friends-with-benefits when we aren’t friends.
So, maybe Masen is right—it’s nothing but a hatefuck.
But how many times can a hatefuck occur before it becomes something else? This is an Eric question, but also, involving Eric can be catastrophic. The last thing I need is to make a big deal out of something which is technically still in the molehill stage. There are no mountains just yet, but if I’m not careful, they’re just around the corner, and the climb will be disastrous.
When I arrive at my apartment, Cruz is lying on the couch playing his game. He stops when he sees me, then sits up, eyeing me from head to toe.
“Some girls night you must have had. No offense, but you look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, praying my skin doesn’t turn red, and he figures out my lie. “I’m going to take a quick shower, then head into work.”
I move quickly to avoid any further questions from Cruz. Lying to him onsets guilt, but I can’t tell him the truth either. Destroying their family unit is not something I’m prepared to do, even if Cruz doesn’t look fondly at his older brother.
