The only thing that could have made it better was if I didn’t bite my tongue from screaming his name.
“Morning beautiful,” his voice, that was so different to me now. That was the only voice I ever wanted to hear with that same endearment. How could I have been so blind?
They’re night and day.
“Morning,” I stretched in his luxurious bed and watched his smile glow in the morning light as he looked back at me.
“How’d you sleep?”
I shrugged. “Just fine.” How do you tell someone who refused to give you his real name that you slept better last night—in his arms—than you had in over a year?
He seemed disappointed in my response so I moved into him and yelped when my inner thigh grazed something hard.
“Oh, I’m sorry—I don’t usually sleep with pants on, I must have pushed them off in the middle of the night.”
I pressed my lips together and he laughed. “It’s not going to bite you sweetheart, I promise.” He moved me back onto the pillows, “my mouth on the other hand…” He bit my bottom lip, pulling it slightly before releasing, then trailed tiny bites all along my jaw and neck, making me squirm until he reached one nipple, taking it in his mouth, sucking and biting. His cock nudged against my wetness and I rocked my hips.
A warm hand gripped my hip, holding it in place and I writhed beneath him, wanting more.
I wanted to say his name. God how I wanted to say it, to beg him to touch me more. But when his long fingers delved into me, I gasped. “Oh God.”
My eyes flew open to find a wide grin on his face. “Sorry, my dick told me if I didn’t do something about this,” he slid up and down the wetness, brushing my clit, “then he would.”
“You’re impossible,” I breathed.
He ignored me, whispering a mixture of sweet and dirty words to me, teasing me with small strokes until he heard me say the word “please” and within seconds, he had me coming undone with his powerful fingers.
“How’s your brother?” I finally asked after we’d both showered, separately, and met in his kitchen. August was in gray sweats and a white t-shirt, pouring himself a cup of coffee as I seated myself on one of the bar stools.
He paused with his mug against his lips. “August?”
“Unless you have another brother?”
“He’s fine.”
“What’s he doing these days?”
“Like for work? He works in hedge funds and asset management.” He looked over at me briefly, as if to see what I thought of that and I smiled knowingly.
“Does he like it?”
He shrugged. “He’s good at it.”
“I’m good at making coffee,” I pointed out and he got the hint and sighed deeply.
“Yeah. Yeah, he likes it.”
I nodded. It wasn’t like I didn’t believe him, but I knew there had to be more to what he did than simplylikingit. It was destroying me that I hadn’t told him I knew who he was and now that I’d been intimate with him, it was even more gut-twisting. Emotions got in the way last night. I knew if I walked out, he’d never go after me. The same way he never did all those years ago. Why would now be any different?
I knew it was a sad attempt on my part to go along with it, but he was going to tell me soon. He had to.
I just hoped that he wouldn’t do it as part of step one of telling me he couldn’t see me anymore.
Because August Hartman was turning out to be everything I wanted, and it wouldn’t be fair to either of us if we didn’t give this a chance because of stupid circumstances—likeTroy.
“Why do you think he likes it?” I pressed, needing to know more about him.
“I suppose because he’s so good at…math, like you said.” He moved to the foyer, stuffing a laptop into his backpack.
