“Please, please.” I moan out the words, my vivid imagination taking things to the next level.
He hovers over me, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his full lips.“You beg so pretty. I want to hear you louder.”
I buzz the vibrator across my clit before plunging it inside myself. A scream breaks loose as I shatter.
“Oh. God.Gabriel!”
As soon as I realize the name on my lips, I freeze. The aftermath of the orgasm wraps around me, even though I can’t believe what I’ve done.
Holy. Shit.
I’ve just made a terrible mistake.
Eighteen
Scarlett
When I wake up Friday morning, heat from the rising sun warms my face ... and then I remember what I’ve been doing lately at night. My face ignites with embarrassment. I already beat myself up yesterday, and told myself I wasn’t going to make it a habit ... but apparently, I lied.
For the love of God, why can’t I stop thinking about him?
The questions circling my brain go unanswered because I can’t think of a single logical, rational reason for that.
I roll out of bed quicker than normal, because if I stay, I’ll dissect the situation, and since there is nothing useful left to consider, I’m ahead of the game if I just don’t think about what’s been transpiring in my bed late at night. Ever again.
Instead of leisurely taking my time, I rush through my morning routine like I’m already late for an important appointment. That’s probably why Amy’s cherry-red mouth opens in shock when I fling the door open on her first knock.
“Shit, Scarlett,” she exclaims and clutches her heart.
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you. Busy day ahead. I’m trying to get a jump on it.”
She scans me from head to toe, taking in my blue-and-white-checked gingham sundress that couldn’t be any more innocent looking if I tried. Yesterday, I wore an all-white ensemble to hide my guilt, but I ended up feeling like I was wearing a scarlet letter. How apropos.
Why am I trying to hide it? I don’t know. Probably because I have a big guilty splotch on my conscience, requiring me to be extra proper to make up for my misdeeds.
Except it felt pretty freaking awesome, hence the replay.
This comes from the voice in my head that I’ve now assigned the nameBad Scarlett,for obvious reasons, but mostly because she has very few inhibitions. Bad Scarlett would love nothing more than to crawl back in bed and spend the morning moaning the name of someone whose name should never be moaned in this apartment, ever again.
Good Scarlett disagrees, obviously, but that girl is weak when it comes tohe who shall not be named, and she’s easily swayed.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Amy carefully steps inside, like she’s afraid to spook me by moving too quickly. “I swear, something’s up with you this week.”
“I’m fine. Ready to tackle everything on the to-do list. Hit me,” I say with a bright, wide smile that feels about as strange as the look she’s giving me.
“How much coffee have you had?”
“Two cups.”
She tilts her head to the side. “With a side of cocaine?”
I jerk back like I’m avoiding a punch. “Excuse me? I’m not that kind of party girl.”
Her face softens with an apology immediately. “Sorry. I just mean that you seem more on edge than normal, like something’s wrong. Are you nervous about your self-defense class today? I know you hate being away from the store on Fridays, but I think it’s for a good reason. We can hold down the fort. I’m way more concerned about your safety anyway.”
Clearly, my manager requires a rational explanation for my behavior, and since I can’t tell her the truth about half the stuff that has happened this week, I lie. “I am nervous. I know it’s a big day, and I’ve never done this sort of thing before ...” I trail off, letting her make her own conclusions to keep my lie less guilt-filled.
“Things are changing, Scar. Really fast. It’s a lot for me to keep up with too, and I only share part of the burden you carry. I can’t imagine how much pressure you’re under.” She leans against the counter and drops the stack of folders she carried in. “Seriously, if there’s ever anything at all I can do to take more off your plate—maybe somehow give you more breathing room—all you have to do is ask. I promise I can handle it.”