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I think back. “When my grandma asked who ate two of the Christmas cookies she had baked for her boss, I lied and said it wasn’t me.”
Darren lifts a brow. “And how old were you then?”
“Eight.”
He groans. “You haven’t lied since you were eight?”
“White lies, sure. I can’t remember feeling as bad as I did about those cookies, though. I was sure Santa wasn’t going to come that year.”
“But he did.”
“Yes.”
“See. Lies aren’t so bad.”
“What was your biggest lie?”
His face darkens, and he doesn’t answer right away. Not a good sign.
“There’s too many to choose from,” he growls, looking away.
At least he’s honest.
“Just choose one,” I say, feeling a little nervous.
He thinks for several beats, then says, “When I was in high school, I covered for JD and told the principal that JD was with me and therefore couldn’t have been the one to put a stink bomb in the PE teacher’s office.”
Okay, that’s not too bad a lie.
“Was JD the one who did it?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“But that’s not the worst lie you ever told,” I venture.
Before I know it, he’s on top of me. I can feel his super-hard cock against me.
“It’s not,” he acknowledges, “’cause I’m not as good as you, Miss I-don’t-drink-before-I’m-twenty-one. You probably shouldn’t be fucking a guy who lies and breaks rules.”
He pushes the pajama top over my breast and takes a nipple into his mouth.
I gasp. “Yeah, probably not.”
“I think you’re trying to spice up your life, Bridge. Maybe being good is getting a little boring for you.”
“I don’t think being good is boring.”
He presses his groin against me. I gasp because he’s really close to entering me. Part of me actually wants it, and when his gaze locks with mine, I think he sees my desire.
“It’d feel good, Bridge,” he says.
“What would?” I return, even though I’m pretty sure I know what he’s referring to.
“Being inside you without anything.”
I can barely catch my breath. “But I’m not on birth control.”
“Nothing? No pill or…?”
