Текст книги "Behind Your Back"

Автор книги: Chelsea M. Cameron

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Sixteen

We go another round (or two) and then we have to eat.

“Do you want to go out or order room service?” I ask as she sits up and runs her fingers through her fucked hair. I wish she’d just leave it like that and then everyone would know what we’ve been up to for the past few hours.

“Do I have time to take a shower?” She stands up and I drink in her naked body. Saige is comfortable with herself and that makes her all the more sexy.

“Absolutely.” She smiles, but then frowns.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Now it’s my turn to smile.

“Don’t worry about that. Go take your shower.” I desperately want to join her, but I know if I do, we’ll never leave this room. I could fuck this girl all day and all night. I’d never go to work, never sleep, never eat. Her taste is still thick on my tongue and in the back of my throat. Her scent is all over my skin and it’s a shame that she’s washing my smell off her right now. But I plan to cover her in it again very soon.

She gives me a puzzled look, but heads for the bathroom and then I hear the water running. Hoping she’s out of earshot, I pick up the phone and make a call to the front desk. Less than two minutes later there is a knock at the door. I open it to find a bellboy holding out several shopping bags to me. I thank him, hand him a tip and take the bags. Not only do they contain an entire outfit for Saige, but one for me as well.

I know it’s silly, but I picked a silver dress for her and a grey tie for me. Not too matchy-matchy, but enough so we look good together. There are some beauty products in the bags as well. I had no idea what to get, but there seems to be a good assortment from the local Sephora.

I have to play this carefully. Cautiously. I can’t scare her off. Not that I think Saige is one who would be easily scared off.

The water turns off in the shower and I wait for her to come out. She’s wrapped in a towel and her hair is dark and wet down her back. This time her face is flushed from the hot water, and not from fucking me.

“Your turn,” she says, passing by me with a little smile. “What’s this?” She gestures to the bags all stacked on the floor.

“We have dinner reservations and as much as I like you in that towel, I thought you might want to wear something a little bit fancier and not made of terrycloth.” She bends down to look in the bags and the scrap of a towel rides up; if I lifted it just a tiny bit more, I’d have one hell of a view.

“I’m going to shower. I hope you like what they picked. If you don’t we can call down and get something else delivered.” She stands up and laughs softly.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just remembering a scene in a movie with Julia Roberts. But you don’t exactly look like Richard Gere.” I know what movie she’s talking about. It’s one of Lizzy’s favorites. I’m not a huge fan of my baby sister watching a movie with hookers in it, but she loves it.

“Well, I’ll make sure not to leave you alone with any of my business partners if we go to a polo match,” I say as I walk into the bathroom. She laughs louder and I shut the door, but listen as the sound fades on the other side.

When I emerge from my (shorter than normal) shower, Saige is still in the towel, but the dress is laid out on the bed, along with a pair of shoes and undergarments, and she’s sitting on the end of the bed brushing her hair.

“Can you grab me the blow-dryer?” she asks, not looking at me.

“Sure,” I say and bring it to her. She looks up and stares at my naked chest before accepting the hair dryer from me.

“Do you need anything else?” I ask. The air in the room feels… changed. There’s a hint of awkwardness and I don’t know where it came from.

“No, this is perfect, thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. We could have gone to my house.” Oh. Maybe she’s feeling strange about me buying her the clothes. But why should she?

“Would you feel more comfortable in your own clothes? I don’t want to be presumptuous.” Shit. I must have overstepped a line I didn’t know was there. Relationships are always tricky. There are hidden landmines everywhere and you don’t know you’ve stepped on one until it’s blown up in your face and then you have to assess the damage and see if you can get out alive.

“No, no. It’s fine. Usually… Never mind.” She definitely wants to say something. I’ve never seen her tongue-tied before.

“Tell me,” I say, sitting down next to her on the end of the bed.

“Some of the guys I’ve been with have certain expectations when they spend money on me.” Oh. Gotcha. I need her to stop that train because it’s not going anywhere.

“Saige. This isn’t that. I’m not like that. I would never expect anything from you in exchange for a gift. Then it’s not a gift. If you want me to take you home right now, I’ll do it. If you want me to leave, I’ll do it. Whatever you want to do. If you want to order room service and eat it naked, I’ll definitely do that.” I try to lighten the mood a little and it works.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thought you’d do that. I know you wouldn’t.” She shakes herself a little and then touches my bare shoulder. Water from the shower drips down my skin. I haven’t had a chance to dry off yet.

“I’d love to go out. And I love the dress. Whoever picked it has good taste.” I take her hand from my shoulder and kiss the back of it. It’s a silly gesture and I don’t know why I did it.

“Good. I was hoping you would. I had to guess on the sizing.” Actually, Track guessed, based on pictures. His fashionable side comes in handy more often than not.

“You guessed right.” She lets out a breath that’s a cousin to a sigh and starts running the brush through her hair again.

“I’ll leave you to get ready. I’m going to shave and get dressed.” My five o’clock shadow is coming in. I stand to go back into the bathroom, but she grabs my arm.

“Don’t shave.”

“Don’t shave?” I repeat.

She stands and runs her palm across my cheek.

“Don’t shave.” I seize her wrist and lick her palm.

“Okay.”

I don’t have much to do in the bathroom, but I wait for a while. I like the idea of coming out and finding her all done up. Like a before and after picture.

“Are you decent?” I ask through a crack in the door as I slowly open it.

“That depends on what you think is decent,” she calls back. “But you can come out if you want.” I push the door open and am struck dumb by her.

Glossy straight hair, sparkly dress and heels that make her legs look like they go on for days, even though she’s not that tall. She looks at me over her shoulder and grins.

“You like?”

“Very, very much,” I say.

“And I must say that you look very handsome,” she says, coming to stroke my unshaved face. “I like this look on you. Maybe you should grow a beard.” I have before, but not for a while.

“Maybe,” I say. A beard doesn’t really work with my Quinn Brand persona. A beard is more of a Sylas thing.

I can’t take my eyes off her glossy red lips. I’d love to get that lipstick all over me and I have to stop myself from imagining her mouth wrapped around my cock. If I think about that, then we’re never getting out of here.

“Ready?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds even.

“Yes, sir,” she says, taking my arm.

Saige’s heels make a clicking sound on the marble of the foyer of the hotel. Tonight I’ve done something out of the ordinary and hired a car. It’s not something I usually do, but it felt right.

“So this means we can fool around in the backseat and don’t have to worry about crashing?” she says in my ear as the driver holds the door open for us.

I squeeze her hand.

“Only if you don’t mind ruining your makeup and walking around with just-fucked hair.” There’s no way to be gentle with Saige. To fuck her with decorum. The minute I touch her, I want to tear her apart and bury myself inside her.

She sighs unhappily.

“You’re right. But maybe on the way back.” Definitely on the way back.

She winks at me before sliding into the backseat. I get in after her and the driver shuts the door. He already has our destination, so this is going to be a surprise for Saige.

“Where are we going?” she says, looking out the tinted windows.

“You’ll see,” I say, taking her hand. I just need to touch her.

In my mind, I know I’m getting in too deep with this girl. I should pull back, but if I do, then I might lose all the ground I’ve gained and I can’t do that. Saige is a mark. I stare at her and tell myself she’s a job. Just a job.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

She looks back at me.

“Nothing. Just that I’m so lucky that you and I walked into the same coffee shop. Do you ever think about that? How bizarre it is to meet someone like that? If you went to a different place, or lived in a different city, we never would have met.”

Yes. I do think about little coincidences. My parents met because of coincidences and that meeting shaped the rest of my life, Lizzy’s life, and caused my mother’s death.

“Do you believe in fate?” she says, her green eyes intense as they look into mine.

“Yes,” I lie with a smile.

“It used to be a speakeasy,” I say as I help her out of the car twenty minutes later. The entrance to the restaurant is nothing special. Just the entrance to a brownstone in what seems like a residential neighborhood.

“You’re kidding,” she says as we walk up the steps and I knock on the door.

“Nope.” The door opens a crack and a man asks if we have a reservation.

“Brand, two,” I say and the door opens. I hear Saige draw in a startled breath. The space is cramped and narrow. And dark. Lit only by red bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

“Follow me,” the host says, leading us across creaking wood floors. The sound is muffled and I wonder if they added the extra soundproofing, or if that was part of the original construction.

At the end of the hall is another door and the host opens it with a metal key. The whole atmosphere is secretive and intoxicating.

Once the door opens, the sound hits us full force and it’s like stepping into another world.

“Wow,” Saige breathes beside me.

The place is impressive. Done in rich reds and burgundies with lots of brick and leather, the place feels old. The bar is made from old barrels, probably handmade.

Scratchy music pipes through speakers, purposefully distorted to add to the ambience.

The host leads us toward the back, to a corner with two worn leather chairs and a small table that is also mounted on a barrel. The lights are dim back here and I watch Saige’s face as she looks around.

“This is extraordinary,” she says, beaming at me. “Well done, you.”

“Thank you,” I say as the host brings us water and hands over a dinner and drink menu.

“Would you like to know our specials?” We both nod and he lists them off from memory, adding which are his favorites.

“Everything sounds so good,” Saige says, looking at me. I agree. I’d love to order the entire menu, including the drinks.

“I’ll give you a few minutes,” he says and leaves us.

Oh my God, Saige mouths at me. “This place is seriously cool.”

“I thought you might like it.” I knew with her affinity for art, Saige would appreciate the history behind the place, which is printed on the back of the menu.

“It feels like stepping through time,” Saige says as Louis Armstrong pipes through hidden speakers. “Thank you for bringing me here. I never would have known about this place if it wasn’t for you.” She reaches across the table and I give her my hand. This time she kisses the back of it and my skin tingles from the contact. There’s much too much table between us. I’d be content for her to sit on my lap, but that might look a little weird.

“You’re very extremely welcome,” I say. “So, what are you going to get?”

“Well, I’m definitely starting with the Mary Pickford.” I look over the drinks and choose a Sidecar. We discuss appetizers and decide on lobster canapés. Our waiter comes to take our drink orders and we also order our appetizer and meals.

“Here’s to Prohibition,” Saige says, raising her Mary Pickford. I raise my Sidecar and we toast.

“To Prohibition,” I say, giving her a wink.

The atmosphere the restaurant creates is seductive and smooth. The drinks go down easy and the laughter flows. I feel more free to talk here. Almost as if I can let myself be a little more Sylas and a little less Quinn.

Saige is radiant. Not that she isn’t always, but under the lights and with the effects of the alcohol, I can’t take my eyes off her.

“You’re staring, Quinn Brand.”

“You’re beautiful, Saige Beaumont,” I say. She rolls her eyes at me, but there’s a smile on her face.

“What a line.”

“It’s my goal to use every single one of them on you.”

She sips her drink and raises her eyebrows.

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

She shakes her head and then I feel her foot sliding up my leg.

“Be careful, Saige Beaumont,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The music throbs in my ears and it’s hard not to dive over the table and bury myself in her right now. I just had her several times, and all I want is more.

She’s a job.

Just a job.

“I love this song,” she says, closing her eyes and swaying. We’ve finished our meals and I’m wondering if she wants dessert. Or if she’s ready to go back to the hotel and let me fuck her some more.

But I get to my feet and hold out my hand. We danced on our first date and it seems only right to dance now.

I don’t know the song, but it’s a rich jazz number, slow enough to dance close to Saige. I hold her and we move together and I close my eyes because she’s too much. Sometimes I can’t take all of her at once.

Just a job.

Saige sighs and rests her cheek on my heart.

I hold her and throw myself into being Quinn. I’ve let myself be too much Sylas and that has to stop. I have to protect myself against this woman.

I’ve never been in love. You have to open yourself up for something like that. It’s less of loving someone else and more letting yourself be loved. And I can’t let that happen. Not in a romantic sense. I love Lizzy and that’s enough for me. Loving someone is giving them the ultimate power to hurt you and I will never give that power away.

Saige tilts her head and looks up at me.

“You’re very good at this, Quinn. This dating thing.”

My breath catches when she says the word “dating”.

“Is that what we’re doing? Are you asking me to define our relationship?” Or DTR as Cash calls it.

“Would that be okay? We don’t have to. We can keep going like we have if you want.” No. This is an important part of the process. I need her to trust me implicitly.

“I would love to have the honor of dating you, Saige.” She smiles and burrows into my chest again.

“Good. I want to date you, too. But I just have one rule.” She looks up at me again and her green eyes are serious.

“What’s that?”

“You can’t break my heart.” I look down at her and my steps stutter for a moment. I’m going to break her heart. That’s the only way this is going to end.

But I smile as best I can.

“I think that if any heart is going to get broken, it’s mine,” I say. She shifts back to being playful.

“I’ll try not to break it,” she says quietly, one hand stroking my chest where my heart beats. I know she can feel it race. My heart always seems to know when Saige is in range and speeds up. It’s not something I can help. It’s just a bodily response to a beautiful and funny and sexy woman. My biological need to mate and continue the species.

“You have a good heart, Quinn.” I don’t want to talk about my heart. Or her heart. Or anyone’s heart getting twisted and wrapped up in this game.

One thing is for sure, when this job is over I’m going to have to leave. I can’t stay in the same city with Saige and risk running into her. I just… I couldn’t do it.

“Do you want to get dessert, or go back to the hotel?” I ask, trying to make my voice even.

“I think I’d like to go back to the hotel and maybe have dessert in bed. The eating and the naked kind.” She pulls back from me and I let go of her.

“I’d like that too.”

I pay the check and tuck her under my arm as we walk back out to the waiting car.

“This has been a fabulous night, Quinn. Absolutely fabulous.”

“Memorable?” I ask.

“Definitely. And it’s not over yet.”

Seventeen

Saige and I head back to the hotel and order all the desserts from the room service menu. They must think we’re having a party because they send up enough place settings for six people.

“We’re never going to eat all this,” Saige says, gesturing to the cart they’ve left us. There’s cake and tiramisu and bread pudding and cheesecake and key lime pie. It all looks spectacular and we definitely can’t eat it all. I don’t care. That’s not what this night is about.

I just hand her a fork and get one for myself. We’ve changed out of our fancy dinner outfits and put on the soft robes I found in the closet.

“What do you want first?” I ask as she scans the cart.

“Red velvet cake. Always,” she says, grabbing the plate. “And I’m not sharing.”

“That’s fine,” I say, going for the key lime pie. Yet another thing that reminds me of my mother. I used to be so good at putting her out of my head. I’d go days without thinking of her, but it seems like every moment with Saige is locked into a memory. I shake my head. I think I’m losing it. Maybe I need a vacation. Or maybe I just need to suck it up and get back to work.

Row has been on duty tonight and I hope he’s enjoying his overnight stay in the hotel. Baz is outside in a car and I’m pretty sure he’s pissed about it. But the mysterious texter hasn’t sent me any more messages or pictures.

Saige and I clink our forks together and start eating the desserts. She polishes off the entire piece of cake and then goes for the bread pudding.

“I know we just ate dinner, but somehow, I still have room for this,” she says, looking fondly at the plates.

“I think it has something to do with science. Not quite sure though.” She sticks her tongue out at me and then pops another bite of bread pudding into her mouth. We end up trading plates and eating almost half the desserts.

“Oh my God, I don’t think I can move,” she says, flopping back on the bed and folding her hands on her stomach. “I think I’m going to regret this later, but I don’t care.” I lay back next to her.

“Dessert is meant to be enjoyed. If not now, when?” She laughs softly.

“I like that.” She rolls over onto her stomach and props herself up on her elbows.

“I don't think I’m going to be able to do the other kind of dessert for a while. It just doesn’t seem like a good idea to move around with all this cake inside me. We probably should have thought of that ahead of time.” Probably. But I’m not opposed to waiting a little while. I’m also in no shape to fuck, no matter what my cock thinks. Maybe if she were on top.

“That’s fine. I think I need a little down time as well.”

“Watch a movie?” she says, grabbing the remote and turning on the television.

“As long as it’s not of the X-rated kind. My body might not be ready for action, but he doesn’t care about that.” I point to my cock.

Saige giggles.

“Well, no porn then. Got it. Are you opposed to romantic movies?”

“Not in theory, but it depends on the movie.” She flips through the channels, bypassing the sports networks and news channels.

“No way, I do not want to cry tonight,” she says after watching a few seconds of a movie. I have no idea what it is and no idea how she knew just from watching a tiny bit of it.

“You ever watched Game of Thrones?” she says, stopping again.

“No, sorry.” I don’t watch a whole lot of TV and I don’t have cable.

“Damn. You’re missing out. We’ll have to marathon it sometime. You can’t not see that show. What about Spinal Tap?” I shrug. I’ve never seen that either.

“Jesus, what have you seen, other than Hitchcock?”

“Not much.”

“Oh!” she says sitting up and exclaiming. “This is what we’re watching.”

“What is it?” I ask as the movie starts. Somehow we’ve timed it just right so it’s just starting.

“My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It’s hilarious. You’ll love it.” I’ve never seen the movie, but I’ve heard of it at least. Saige shifts and turns over on her stomach. Instead of watching the screen, I’m watching her as she stares at the television.

“You’re not paying attention,” she says without looking away.

“Sorry,” I say, looking back at the screen.

Saige is animated as she watches, laughing freely at the jokes she knows are coming. I have to admit that I get sucked into the movie, even if I can’t really relate. Funny is funny and this movie is funny. I laugh more than a few times, especially when Ian meets Tula’s family and she tells them he’s a vegetarian.

“I love this movie,” Saige says as Tula and her new husband dance at their reception.

“It’s good. I’m glad you made me watch it.”

“So if you don’t watch movies, what do you do in your spare time, Quinn Brand?” Not much. Work out. Take walks. Spend time with Cash. Sleep. My existence outside of my job isn’t much. It isn’t really a life. But I can’t tell her that.

“This and that.” I hope she’s going to drop the subject.

“No, really,” she says, sitting up and turning her focus back on me again. Shit. “I want to know about your life. What you do when you’re not hanging out with me.” She smiles and touches my shoulder playfully.

“Well, I read and play video games and run and so forth. The usual stuff.”

“What was the last book you read?” This is an easy question, because I do read every now and then.

“The Stand by Stephen King. One of his best, in my opinion.”

She raises her eyebrows as if this surprises her.

“What?”

“Nothing. What book did you read before that one?” Redhead, this entire thing is a test that I know I can pass.

“Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.” That makes her smile.

“Interesting selection.” I decide to turn this around on her.

“What were the last two books you read? Other than school books.” I feel like I have to clarify. She holds up one finger.

“The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and,” she holds up another finger “Gone Girl.”

“Really?”

“Really. Guess we have the same taste in books.”

“Go figure,” I say.

“But I won’t say no to fantasy or a good historical romance. And you can’t beat Harry Potter.”

“Never read those,” I say and she looks at me as if I’ve used the dirtiest curse word in existence.

“What is wrong with you?” A whole lot of things that you will never know about, Saige. “How can you be a human being and not have read Harry Potter?” I shrug again. I seem to be doing that a lot tonight.

“Well, get yourself to a library, Mr. Brand, or snatch one from a kid. I’d lend you mine, but I don’t lend my books to anyone. They’re never allowed to leave my apartment unless they’re in my custody.” That’s… kind of cute.

“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m going to have to at least do some research on what these are about so I can have a conversation with her since I’m sure she’s going to bring them up again. Saige isn’t the kind of person who forgets things like this.

“Good. Because you need to experience it.” She sighs happily. Maybe I can read the books with Lizzy or something. I’m going to see her this weekend. I’ve felt so off-balance lately and I need someone familiar to ground me.

Saige and I talk more about what books we have and haven’t read and movies we have and haven’t seen. I’m not sure which one of starts yawning, but soon we’re lying back against the pillows in our robes, the spaces between our responses longer and longer as we both struggle to stay awake.

Finally, we both succumb to the mix of food and drinks and pass out.

I wake up on my stomach, my arm thrown over Saige, who is curling as close to me as she can. Instead of being calm in repose, her eyebrows are drawn together and she’s making soft sounds that probably woke me. Her body twitches, as if she’s dreaming something upsetting.

I wait a moment and then softly shake her.

“Saige,” I say. “Wake up.” Her eyes fly open and she gasps, shoving herself away from me.

“Saige! It’s me. It’s Quinn. I think you were having a dream.” She sputters and blinks a few times and then starts to relax.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pushing her hair out of her eyes. It was straight last night, but the natural curl has started to come back. Like it can’t be tamed, even by heat.

“Are you okay?” I reach out to her, but she puts one hand up to stop me.

“I’m fine. I just… I need to use the bathroom.” She gets up and walks to the bathroom and closes the door. I hear the lock click.

I rub the sleep out of my own eyes and check the clock. It’s five in the morning. My plan was to rise early, take her to breakfast and then drop her back at her place so she can get ready for class. Her first one isn’t until nine and I planned on showing up late for work.

The water runs in the bathroom, but the sound is steady, as if she just turned the sink on for noise. I wait a few more minutes and then softly walk to the closed door and knock.

“Saige? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she says, and I can tell she’s anything but.

“Let me in,” I say.

“No.” I think about banging on the door and demanding she let me in, but I don’t think that tactic will work with her.

“Please let me in? I’m worried about you,” I say and it’s not a complete lie.

I wait for a few seconds and then the water turns off and the door opens.

She’s crying. Her eyes are red and puffy and there are streaks on her cheeks from last night’s makeup that she never took off.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. I’m not quite sure what to do in this situation. I have no idea why she’s crying or what I can do to help her.

“Nothing,” she says, leaning against the sink and wiping her cheeks.

“Well, if it was nothing then you wouldn’t be crying. Did you have a bad dream?” She rolls her eyes.

“Bad dreams are for children.”

“That’s not true,” I say, closing the door behind me and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. “Everyone has nightmares. Everyone has something they’re afraid of.” She meets my eyes and she looks… young. Sad. Scared.

“What are you afraid of?” she asks, her voice echoing around the room. A single drip of water falls from the faucet into the sink with a little plink.

“You,” I say, and this is another truth. I’m scared of her. I’m scared of how I’m starting to feel about her. I can tell myself she’s a job all I want, but that won’t stop my body from responding when I’m anywhere near her.

It’s like she’s been sent as a punishment. To torture me for what I’ve done. It would make sense, given how the rest of my life has gone so far. What a beautiful hell I’m in.

She rolls her eyes and I grab some toilet paper and hand it to her so she can wipe her eyes.

“You’re not scared of me. You’re not scared of a whole lot, I bet.” I shake my head.

“You’re wrong. And you’re also deflecting. What has you so upset? If we’re going to date, we’re going to have to talk about things like this.” I hate this part. Because I need her to open up so she’ll trust me even though I’m going to turn around and shatter that trust.

I’ve never thought about it this much before. Guess I shut my emotions off and kept my head down and kept going. If I didn’t stop moving, I didn’t have to think about it.

“It’s stupid,” she says, blowing her nose and pouting a little.

“Nothing about you is stupid, Saige,” I say, handing her some more toilet paper.

“You don’t know me that well, clearly.” I wait for her to get herself together. She looks up at the ceiling and exhales.

“Fine. I just… I have these nightmares sometimes. They’re stupid and I never remember the details when I wake up, but in the moment, they’re terrifying.” She shivers and puts her arms around herself.

“I always remember my dreams,” I say quietly. “But that’s not always a good thing.”

“If I could remember then maybe I could work through it. Convince myself not to be scared or something. But no matter what I do, as soon as my eyes open, it’s like my brain resets.” She rubs her arms. “Anyway, I guess I just freaked out a little. I always tend to wake up crying when I have them.”

I sit for a moment, wondering what I should do. To be honest, crying freaks me out. I don’t know what to do with tears. Anger, I understand. Hatred, I understand. Vulnerability is something I don’t allow in myself so it’s hard to understand it in someone else.

Cash would be much better at this than me. He knows how to play it cool and play the part of the doting boyfriend. Maybe he should have done this.

But as soon as I think about Cash being here with Saige, I want to put my fist through the wall. So I do the only thing I can think to do. I stand up and put my arms around her.

She hesitates for a second, and then melts into me. Yes, I’m in control. I have her in my arms and I can mold her however I want. If I kissed her right now in this vulnerable state, she’d probably give in, her defenses down. I could fuck her right on this sink.

Something stops me. Saige’s arms creep around me and wrap around my back. I tuck her head under my chin and I know if someone were to take a picture of us right now, we’d look like the perfect couple.

“Thanks for being so understanding,” she says in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Shh, it’s fine. No big deal. I was waking up anyway.” She starts to pull away and I don’t want to let her go, but I remove my hands from her body and step back to give her some space. Her face is still red, but it doesn’t diminish her loveliness. I doubt anything could. Saige’s beauty could never be tainted by anything.

“Well, now we’ve gotten that out of the way,” she says, laughing softly, as if she’s embarrassed.

“Do you want to go back to bed, or do you want me to take you home?”

“I can’t sleep, but I don’t want to go home.” She looks up at me and I see something… pleading in her eyes. As if she’s begging me to understand what she wants without her having to say it.

I take a wild guess. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

She nods and sniffs again.

“Hard?” I ask, just to make sure. She nods again.

“Let me get a condom.”

I leave the bathroom and grab one from the top of the nightstand where I’d put my stash from the day before. On second thought I grab two, putting one in the pocket of my robe.

Saige is in the same position when I walk back into the bathroom. Without another word, I pick her up and deposit her on the sink. She yelps.

“Cold,” she says in explanation as I undo the tie of her robe and push it down her shoulders.