Page 45 of Very Bad Things


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“Now you know how I feel. The next time I pick up Daisy from school, I want you to know that I’ll be thinking about how it felt to have you riding my cock with your tits in my face.” He closes the distance between us. “The way my name fell from your lips as your pussy squeezed me.” He unties the belt of my robe as he kisses me, his tongue lapping at mine. I moan into his lips, my hands tugging at his towel. “Do you need to come again?”

“Yes, please.” I pant as he picks me up and walks me backward till we’re up against the wall. His cock is demanding entrance, sliding inside me as his lips find mine again.

By the time we finish round four or five, the chef is calling to let us know that dinner is ready. I scurry off to my room to dry my hair and apply some fresh makeup. I decide on my favorite sundress, a white spaghetti strap dress with sunflowers. I opt to leave the top button undone, showing the tiniest amount of cleavage. I tie my hair back with a ribbon bow and slip on my favorite sandals before heading upstairs.

“How do you make innocent girl next door and tempting sex vixen at the same time look so effortless.” He smiles and it reaches the corners of his eyes, making me smile in return. The sun has started to set, casting a pinkish-orange glow across the water. I stand at the window, staring out over the horizon when the sound of music fills the room. I turn my head as I feel him approach me from behind.

He twirls me around, bringing me to his chest. “Dance with me.” His hand dwarfs mine, his other resting against my back as he presses me against his warm chest. I close my eyes, my cheek resting against him as we sway to the music.

How is this happening right now?

A weird sense of dread fills me. It’s like something completely switched between us. Like we went from not being able to stand one another to now, he’s holding me, making me feel safe and desired, making me question what I thought I wanted. I shake the thoughts from my head, not wanting them to ruin this night. Even if this is all we ever get, I’ll be okay with that. I can’t let my romantic side take over and pretend that we have a future together. We barely know each other. It’s vacation, the sunsets and Bahamian air. It’s not reality.

After dinner, we sit on the deck, sipping a cocktail, my feet in his lap. “You didn’t tell me you were engaged before.” He takes a sip of his old fashioned as he looks across the water.

“You never asked.” He doesn’t respond and he doesn’t look at me. “I guess it just never came up. Seemed like a strange thing to tell someone who didn’t seem to be too fond of me.” His thumb gently rubs against my ankle.

“Did you really think I didn’t like you?”

“Seriously?” He looks over at me. “Yes, absolutely. I mean apart from our first meeting in France, once we were back home, our first actual meeting at the school was tense.”

“Couldn’t you tell when we volunteered together?”

I pause with my drink halfway to my lips. “No, not at all. When I went to your office to talk to you about it, you acted like you were about to toss me out on my ass, and then at the event you seemed annoyed.”

He chuckles. “I was but only because I was frustrated that I wanted you. Frustrated that you didn’t seem fazed by me at all.”

“Ohhh, you’re so used to women just fawning over you that you couldn’t fathom a woman who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t be obtuse.” He playfully pinches my skin. “No, it was that you genuinely seemed to hate me and I didn’t hate you. I felt like I kept fucking up.”

“I was intimidated.”

“Intimidated—by me?”

“Yes, have you met yourself? You are extremely powerful and rich and well known and yeah, you are confident and can be very curt.”

“I guess I assumed you didn’t give a shit. You always stood up to me, spoke your mind. I’m sorry that I was rude and curt.” His eyes are warm and genuine.

“Well, I’m glad we cleared the air and if I haven’t said it already, I’m sorry that I not only spilled coffee on you, but also for being a little snippy myself.”

We sit in silence for several minutes, enjoying our drinks and relaxing as the sounds of soft waves lap against the hull of the boat.

“Hey, I just realized something.” I look over, seeing a concerned look on his face. “It’s totally my fault and I’m sorry I wasn’t more considerate, but I didn’t use protection.”

My eyes grow wide.How the fuck did I let that happen?

“Oh, you’re right. No, I should have said something. I-I’m, I haven’t been with anyone since Carson died.” I hate that I blurted that out; it feels awkward and uncomfortable but it’s the truth.

“I have been with others, but I’ve always used protection. That wasn’t where my concern lies. Are you on birth control?”

I swallow. I went off it after Carson passed. “No,” I say as I attempt to pull my feet back off his lap. Suddenly I feel uncomfortable and vulnerable.

“Hey.” He holds my feet so I can’t take them back. “It’s okay. I’m not upset.”

I blink, trying to do period math in my head. “I’m almost positive I’m not ovulating. I had my cycle right before this trip actually. I know that’s not—”

“Daphne.” He says my name firmly. “I’m not worried; don’t let it ruin your night.” He releases my feet, leaning forward to grab my hand and pull me onto his lap.

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