The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

5. Lay It Like a Chicken

Chapter 5

Lay It Like a Chicken

N ik had been hoping that Aria snored.

He doubted it would turn him off, because she was just—God, she was incredibly fucking hot. But if she snored, it might’ve been easier to get irritated with her. To think something like, Damn, I can’t wait for this week to end so I can sleep without her snoring in my ear. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t allow him even that small solace. Aria didn’t snore, or drool, or kick him in her sleep. Nothing.

He watched her in the faint light that crept past their closed curtains. She slept on her stomach, spread out like a starfish, and he slept on his back, also spread out like a starfish. So, he’d woken to find his right limbs tangled with hers, her skin almost feverish. They’d somehow thrown off the sheets, so the first thing Nik saw when he woke up that morning was Aria’s tight, lacy underwear, barely big enough to cover her arse. No tattoos there. He’d noticed that the day before, but the knowledge felt different now.

Maybe because the second thing he’d seen when he woke up was her face. Her cheeks, soft and smushed and lined with pillow creases; her long eyelashes and the shadows of left-over makeup under her eyes; her slightly parted lips, moving as she breathed deeply. When he looked at her, he’d been seized by the urge to kiss those lips. Thank God he’d come to his senses a moment later. He was trying to make her like him, not assault her while she slept.

Nik sighed and stared up at the ceiling, pressing a hand against his aching cock. He was so hard; his morning piss was about to be a fucking nightmare—but he wasn’t focusing on that right now. He was more concerned with how weird last night had been. He hadn’t considered how different it would feel, going out with a girlfriend instead of just his mates. Different, but good. Their relationship might be fake, but the way he’d felt—as if she were his sun, and he’d spent the whole night orbiting her? That had been real.

Real, and painfully natural. Checking on her, making sure she had a drink, watching her laugh and dance with Georgia; none of that had been a chore. And since Nik knew he was a self-absorbed bastard, that fact struck him as… interesting. Honestly, he adored her. And he was convinced, by this point, that she at least wanted him. Not in the plastic, automatic way most people wanted him, for his looks or his money, but in a way that felt personal. So fucking personal. He’d slept with countless people, but he only felt desired when she looked at him.

Those looks didn’t do shit to soothe the demanding hunger inside him, though. In fact, they made things worse. Because she still wasn’t his, and the idea that maybe she could be was like dangling meat in front of a wolf. Stifling a groan, Nik eased out of bed and headed for the shower. He stood under its powerful spray seconds later, tipping his head back as if the water could wash away his confusion.

It didn’t. He was still hopelessly attached, ridiculously horny, and as reckless as ever. He was also carrying out a plan so far-fetched and audacious, he could barely believe his own gall. He could only deal with one of those issues, though, so he set the rest aside and focused on his throbbing cock.

His hands slick with soap, Nik bowed his head beneath the shower’s spray and slid a fist over his aching length. Oh, fuck. Yes. He stroked himself hard. Harder. Imagined that the tight, wet glide of his fist was Aria’s mouth, because if he let himself think about her pussy, he’d really be fucked.

He’d meant to stay quiet, but as he envisioned Aria on her knees before him, he moaned. His strokes sped up, his grip tightening, desire licking at him like hot flames. And then he imaged her pulling back, running the swollen head of his cock over her lips, slicking them with his pre-come the way she’d slicked them with gloss last night…

He grunted as the wave of pleasure broke too early, his come spilling hot into his hand. “Shit.” He shouldn’t have done that. Even as his body tingled with barely-sated arousal, he knew: he shouldn’t have fucking done that. Because now he’d really let himself imagine it, he’d never be free of those mental images. Not unless he got his hands on her—and he still didn’t know if he ever would.

The spark between them could just reflect his own desire. He could be imagining everything he thought he’d seen in her eyes. He was starving for her, and every sarcastic comment she threw, every arched brow and unspoken challenge, made it a thousand times worse. And he loved it.

Water ran into Nik’s eyes as he stared at the come painting his palm. His cock was already hardening again. He was acting like a teenager. But when he was with her, he wanted more than ever to be a man.

* * *

By that afternoon, the sun was beating down as if it wanted to kill them all.

They should probably go inside, but a few of them had started messing around with a football, and now they’d never stop. There was nothing better than a kick-about, in Nik’s book. Especially when it was like this: barefoot on the grass, the ball making a satisfying thwack against his skin with each leisurely pass, his two best mates laughing and chatting with him.

And his woman in sight, wearing one of those tiny bikinis, that ever-present sketchbook in her hands.

Not your woman , said the voice of reason.

She should be , said the voice of every reckless thing Nik had ever done.

Really, that voice hadn’t steered him wrong yet. He should probably be alarmed by how attached he was after a chance meeting, a handful of kisses, several obnoxious emails and a couple days of faking it. But, technically, Nik had known Aria for weeks now. If they were his parents, they’d already be married.

The ball hit him squarely in the thigh, bringing Nik back to the game with a jolt.

“Stop thinking about your girlfriend.” Varo grinned.

Nik snorted as he passed back. “You’re always thinking about yours.”

“Quietly, though. When you’ve got Aria on your mind, your thoughts might as well be a foghorn.”

Kieran chuckled. “He’s not wrong. You really like this girl.”

“I do. I really fucking do.” It wasn’t a lie, but an admission. It occurred to him that despite the secrecy around he and Aria, he could still ask his friends for advice about this. “Guys, how do you figure out... you know, feelings?”

The other men paused, the ball forgotten between them. They shared a look, their faces unreadable. And then, as if on cue, they both burst into laughter.

“What?” Nik demanded. “This is serious! I am ignorant! Help me!”

“Dios mio,” Varo wheezed, slapping his thigh—which, frankly, Nik thought was a bit much. “Oh, Nik. I really don’t know what to do with you.”

“I don’t know how you managed to catch her in the first place,” Kieran chuckled. “You’re so shit at this stuff.”

“I know I’m shit at this stuff,” Nik said. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I think I might—” he broke off, astonished at the words that had almost come out of his mouth. I think I might love her.

Actually, that would make a lot of sense. But he’d think about it later.

Correcting himself smoothly, Nik said, “I’m not sure if she likes me as much as I like her.”

Varo shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“I’m just saying! She’s too cool for you.” Varo dodged, laughing, as Nik kicked the ball toward his head. “Alright, calm down. She likes you. Of course, she likes you. Anyone can see that.”

The words mollified Nik a little. Anyone could see it? So, it wasn’t just a figment of his desperate imagination.

“I do have some advice, though,” Kieran piped up. “I know you don’t think it’s a big deal, so you probably haven’t told her. But trust me, people care about this kind of thing when they’re in relationships.”

“What?” The ball rolled back to Nik, and he tapped it neatly at Varo.

“You should probably mention that you fucked Laurie. And G. And Varo. And Tom—”

“Okay, yeah,” Nik interrupted. “I get it.”

Aria already knew about Tom. She knew about everyone he’d slept with in this house—except his friends, because she hadn’t needed to know. They weren’t on his I regret it, steer clear list. They were on his That was fun list, or in Varo and G’s case, his Let’s do this again some time list. Would Aria care? Honestly, he wasn’t sure.

“You’re right.” Nik nodded. “I’ll tell her.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t already.” Varo grinned. “How the hell did you get a girlfriend, again?”

I paid.

“Speaking of...” Kieran’s dark gaze shifted to the right, his brows raising as he trailed off.

Nik looked over to find fucking Shenker looming over Aria, Laurie and G like a vulture. The slimy piece of shit. What part of That’s my only, solo, monogamous fucking girlfriend did that prick not understand?

“Woah, man,” Varo said quietly. “Relax.”

Which was when Nik realised he was clenching his fists hard enough to make his knuckles ache. He took a deep breath and released the tight grip, ignoring his friends’ stares. Nik rarely lost his temper—only on the pitch, and even then, it took a lot of fucking provocation. His mates would be wondering what the hell was wrong with him. They didn’t know how much he really hated Shenker, because Nik didn’t have the energy to talk shit.

“I don’t want him bothering her,” he said flatly.

“Okaaaay...” Varo replied. “ Is he bothering her? I know Shenker’s a flirt, but I’ve never heard about him crossing the line.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t fucking like it.” His eyes settled on the ball at his feet, and an idea winked into his brain like a lightbulb.

“Nik,” Varo said slowly. “Whatever you’re about to do…”

Nik ignored him, moving back a few spaces to give himself a run-up.

“At least let Varo take it,” Kieran sighed. “He’s the striker.”

“You think I can’t hit him?” Nik asked.

Varo rolled his eyes at Kieran. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Bet me.”

“Nik,” Kieran scoffed, “we’re not placing bets on this juvenile—”

“5000 Euro,” Varo interrupted. “Ten if you get his head.”

“Done. Kieran?”

There was a long pause, followed by a deep sigh. “I’m in.”

Nik grinned. Then he hoofed it.

The ball arced through the air so beautifully, he almost came. Christ, that was a perfect feeling. But not as perfect as the laughter that ripped from him when the ball smacked Shenker squarely in the back the head.

Shenker staggered, caught his balance, clutched his head, and spun. “What the fuck?” he bellowed.

“Sorry, man,” Nik shouted. “Thought you’d catch it.” Beside him, Varo dissolved into peals of laughter.

And so, did Aria, metres away, her hand slapped over her mouth and her eyes bright.

* * *

The boys messed around with that football for hours—long enough that Aria should’ve been bored or irritated by the afternoon sun. But when her mind wandered from the contents of her sketchbook it found plenty of entertainment in watching Nik. He was shirtless and barefoot, running around the grass with a focus that was somehow turning her on. When beads of sweat slid down her spine, she imagined the same moisture caressing Nik’s skin. When they rolled between her breasts, she imagined his tongue licking them off.

Fuck. She felt like she’d been permanently wet for the past two days. Aria was surprised she hadn’t started walking funny, her clit felt so swollen and sensitive. If she didn’t do something about this, she’d end up losing her head. She could barely think straight.

Which was concerning, really. After all, she was at work. Concentration seemed vital in her position. Which made it her professional duty to handle the throbbing pulse of desire that had taken over her body. Right?

Right.

Aria stood, picking up her sketchbook. “Sorry, guys, but I’m going to head upstairs. I think I’ve had too much sun.”

“Oh, no, babe.” Georgia leapt up and pressed a hand to Aria’s brow, even though she practically had to jump to reach. “Are you alright? Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no! I’m fine. I’m just going to rest.”

“Shall I tell Nik?”

“God, no. Honestly, I’m fine. I’ll just have a little sleep before we head out.”

“Alright then, love,” Georgia allowed, with one last worried look.

“Au revoir,” Laurie murmured airily, calm and catlike as ever.

Aria hurried off into the house.

She climbed the first flight of stairs steadily. On the second flight, her steps became a slight jog, and by the third and final one, she was practically running. She rushed into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, shivering and feverish all at once. Electric anticipation rolled through her as she hauled her suitcase out of the wardrobe and pulled out the sleek black box where she’d stored anything sex-related ever since her awkward teenage years.

The sox’s contents had changed a little since then. There were condoms, lube, the usual—but now she had an impressive collection of toys, too. And since she’d been purposefully, painfully celibate for months now—since November—those were the stars of her show. She put the sox down at the foot of the bed and studied its treasures, the sweet-sharp ache between her thighs worsening which each second. Finally, she pulled out a purple Rampant Rabbit, tracing a finger over the long curve of the dildo, then the ‘ears’ attached to its shaft, designed to vibrate against her clit.

She was already wet, but she rifled through the box for some lube anyway; there was no such thing as too wet, after all. She caught sight of a little bottle lurking under her butt plugs.

Then the bedroom door opened.

Shit, shit, shit.

The vibrator landed back in its box with an ominous thunk as shock loosened Aria’s fingers.

Nik stood in the doorway, looking pretty fucking surprised himself. “Georgia said you…” He frowned, stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” she said brightly, looking around for the sox’s lid. Where the fuck had she put that thing?

“Aria.” Nik’s tone was calm and steady as he came closer. “What is that?”

Well, there was really nothing for it. Slapping a smile on her face, Aria turned around and sat on the box of toys. She just… sat. There was a hideous creak , and she felt the poor thing give under her enormous arse, but she kept her smile firmly in place. “What’s what?”

Nik’s lips twitched with the effort of holding back his laughter. “The thing you just sat on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said primly.

He studied her awkward perch on the bed, clearly skeptical. “Get up, then.”

“No, thank you,” she clipped out. “I’m not feeling very well.”

All at once, concern softened his features. Nik sank to his knees in front of her, then winced.

“Are you supposed to do that?” she asked, remembering the recurring injury that he claimed was just fine. It probably wasn’t quite so fine after he’d spent all day playing football.

“Doesn’t matter. Are you okay? Georgia said you felt weird.” He smoothed a hand over her hair like she was a fucking kitten or something. “Do you want a drink? Are you hungry?”

Well, now she felt bad. He actually seemed worried. “Um, no. No, I just need a rest.”

Nik nodded slowly. “Why don’t you lie down?”

“I will.” Her voice came out a bit too high and squeaky.

He arched a brow, suspicion creeping into his gaze again. “Okay.”

There was a pause. Apparently, he was waiting for her to move. Aria, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how to make a box of dildos disappear. Why had she even brought the fucking thing?

Oh, yes; because she was incredibly horny at the best of times, and he was gorgeous enough to make the issue almost unbearable.

“Aria,” he said, “what is that?”

“What is what ?” she snapped. He couldn’t see the sox she was currently crushing to death, could he?

No; Nik’s gaze wasn’t even close to her arse. He was staring at the suitcase she’d dragged out of the wardrobe—or rather, at the lid of the sox, sitting beside it on the cream carpet.

“Oh,” she said quickly, “that. It’s… nothing.”

His smile turned predatory, a cocky glint lighting his eyes. She could tell just by the look on his face that he was taking this interaction as a challenge.

Which did not bode well for her.

“Nothing?” he repeated. “So, it’s definitely not the lid of the box you just sat on?”

“I’m not sitting on anything,” she said stiffly.

“You’re not?”

“No! Good Lord. Sitting … on a box … why would I possibly do such a thing?”

“Sweetheart. Move, or I will move you.”

“Fuck off,” she scowled. “You can’t—” Aria broke off as she remembered that, yes, he could. He’d already proven he was strong enough to throw her around. Fuck. “You put a hand on me, and I’ll bite you.”

Grinning, he leaned in until their noses almost touched. “Don’t tease, moro mou.”

“Nik…”

“If you want to bite me, you can. You only ever had to ask.” She became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was only wearing a pair of swimming trunks, his chest bare. And she was only wearing a bikini, for that matter. A bikini whose top he was now staring at openly, because her nipples were hard enough to cut diamonds. They only got harder when he released a low, heavy breath that almost sounded like a moan, dragging his teeth over his lower lip.

“I should warn you,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I bite back.”

“Menstrual cups!” she blurted out.

Nik looked up with a blink. “What?”

Yes, Aria. What?

“Um… In the box.” Her words blurred together awkwardly. Her heart felt like it might burst out of her chest and flop around on the floor like a fish. How the fuck could one man be so disarmingly, stressfully sexy? “My menstrual cups,” she repeated, “are in the box.”

He paused. Then, rather than blushing, or stuttering, or—the ideal scenario— leaving the room , Nik said, “The box you supposedly are not sitting on.”

She sighed. “Obviously, I’m sitting on a fucking box, Nik. And the corners are starting to hurt, so if you could just piss off—”

“What,” he cut in casually, “is a menstrual cup?”

Oh, dear. She really hadn’t thought this through. Good thing she refused to be embarrassed about good, old-fashioned menstruation. “Well, it’s a little silicone cup thing that you kind of… fold up, and shove up your vagina—you know, like a message in a bottle—and then it pops open again, kind of like those tents kids play with, and it catches the blood—when you’re on your period, I mean.”

He stared. “I… have never heard of that.”

“It’s all the rage. Very environmentally friendly. And much more convenient than tampons.” All true; all irrelevant to her current situation.

Nik cocked his head to the side. “And you expect me to believe, Aria, that you are so horribly embarrassed about your little cups, you sat on a box to stop me seeing them?”

“Well—”

“Last night you told me about the time you lost a vibrating egg up there and had to lay it like a chicken.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I was drunk !”

“Barely. What’s in the box?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” She’d had quite enough of his knowing stare and his sexy smirk. Plus, the corners of the sox were really digging into her bum, and frankly, he was right—she wasn’t embarrassed about anything. Not bloody menstrual cups, not the various items she’d lost in her vagina, and definitely not the toys she used for her perfectly natural activities.

All of which inspired Aria to stand up and snap, “It’s my sox. Are you happy?”

Nik stared down at the slightly squashed box on the bed. Or, actually, at the assortment of sex toys inside it. “Your what?”

“My sox. My sex box. Get it?” He didn’t reply. He didn’t even look at her. He appeared to be mesmerised by the dildos. “Me and Jen made it up,” she added, “when we were younger.”

“Jen,” he said finally. “The friend who got married on the day we met.”

“Yes.”

He fell back into silence, but she didn’t think he was considering Jen and Theo’s holy matrimony. In fact, if his mind was behaving anything like hers, he’d be thinking about that kiss. Their first. The one that had carved out a place for itself in the dirtiest corners of her memory, where it radiated a constant, thrumming pulse of heat.

That kiss, Aria decided woefully, was where all of her problems had begun.

Problems? If problems always came with a gorgeous fake boyfriend and enough money to give you your dreams on a platter, the world would be a far better place.

Okay, true.

She ran her tongue nervously over her lip ring as Nik reached out and— oh, God —picked up the purple vibrator she’d dropped. He stood, his eyes on the thick dildo in his hand. Then he ran his thumb over the rabbit’s ears and asked, “What is this for?”

Aria couldn’t decipher his tone, but she managed to sound lighthearted as she replied, “Figure it out.”

He looked up, something dangerous glittering in his eyes. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

Aria bit down on the insides of her cheeks, barely resisting the urge to press her thighs together. Something about that low, smoky voice was flooding her pussy with need, swelling her already sensitive clit. Surely, he wasn’t coming on to her right now, was he? No. He just liked to tease. For all his supposed playboy ways, she had yet to see any evidence that Nik understood seduction. Not when he was on the receiving end of it, at least.

She didn’t usually mind his flirting, but right now she was too close to the edge for games. Time to lighten the mood. Aria injected a spark of humour into her voice and nodded at the toy as she said, “Intimidated?”

“No,” he replied. Simply. Instantly. He didn’t sound cocky, or even confident—just unconcerned, as though he couldn’t imagine why he would be.

Considering the glimpse of him she’d gotten last night, Aria wasn’t surprised. The memory dragged her traitorous gaze south, just for a moment—which was long enough to notice the unmistakable bulge straining the front of Nik’s shorts, the flushed head of his cock visible above the waistband.

Her knees almost buckled.

Maybe he saw, because he reached out and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close. The side of her body pressed against Nik’s chest, his lips grazing her shoulder, his hard cock pushing into her hip. He ran his mouth up the length of her throat, his tongue gliding over her skin.

“Fuck,” she breathed, the pulse of desire between her thighs becoming a pounding rhythm.

“Did you sneak up here to play with yourself?” he asked, obviously amused.

“Clearly, I did,” she gritted out.

“Were you going to lie in this bed— our bed—and make yourself come, chrysí mou? Without me? I should make you pay for that.”

She dragged in a shaking breath. “Why?”

Nik’s mouth sucked gently at the base of her throat for a moment, sending little arrows of sensation flying through her veins. Then he released her with a mocking tut, and said, “I don’t think you understand how much I—how much I’m willing to do for you, Aria. I certainly won’t let you fuck yourself.” He put the toy on the bed, then cupped her cheek in his hand and murmured, “I’ll do it for you.”

Her mind unravelled like a spool of thread dropped to the floor. “You’ll… do…”

“If that—” he flicked a glance at the toy “—is what you want, I’ll do it for you. Would you like to come?”

“Yes,” she breathed, the word spilling out before she could stop it. “Yes, I want to come.”

“Next time,” he said, “just ask.” He pulled down her bikini bottoms without hesitation, his hands rough. When the fabric fell to her feet, he grabbed her arse and pulled her tight against his body. Their kiss was hot and hard enough to make her shake. His tongue thrust against hers in a rhythm that should’ve felt crude, too suggestive, too dominant. She melted against him like he was licking into her pussy instead of her mouth.

A second later, he spun her around to face the bed. His hands, surprisingly gentle, pushed her until she bent forward, her upper body resting against the mattress, her arse thrust out lewdly. He picked up the toy, and then she couldn’t see him anymore—but she could feel him right behind her, and one of his hands roamed over the curve of her belly.

“Do you have anything to say to me?” he asked softly. For a moment, she frowned, confusion breaking through the haze of lust.

But then she realised he was checking up on her. Making sure this wasn’t too far. Asking for the safe word that wasn’t supposed to be sexual, and yet, here they were.

Aria shook her head, relishing the feel of the cool sheets against her cheek. “No.”

“Good.” She heard the creak of the floor as he moved, sinking down behind her. She could feel his breath against her thighs. Then his big hands palmed her arse and spread her wide, and she felt his breath against her slick folds instead. He let out a low moan. “You are so fucking wet.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

She hesitated. “Why?”

“Tell me why.”

Exquisite tension coiled tight in her core. “Because… because I want you.”

“Thank fucking God for that,” he muttered. A second later she felt the cool, blunt tip of the vibrator sliding experimentally through her folds, growing slippery as it eased over her wetness. When it teased her swollen, desperate clit, she gave a ragged cry, and Nik’s head fell forward to rest against her thigh. “Ah, fuck, Ri. Do you need it? Right now?”

“Now,” she agreed, the word strangled.

His fingers spread her intimate folds wider. She could almost feel his intensity, could imagine that dark, focused stare. And for a moment she didn’t want the toy at all; she wanted his hot mouth, his hands, and his thick cock. God, she wanted that cock.

She didn’t get it. Instead, he murmured, “How long have you been like this?”

“Long enough,” she gritted out. And then felt a delicious stretch as the vibrator eased into her pussy, painfully slow and satisfying. “Oh, God, more—”

“Can you take it?”

With a frustrated growl, Aria thrust her hips back. Sensation arced through her as she took the toy deeper, her need only growing.

“Fuck,” he hissed, as if it was his dick inside her. As if he was experiencing this pleasure. “Oh my God. The way you look right now—”

“Shut up and fuck me,” she ordered, but it sounded more like she was begging. She was begging.

And he knew it, too.

“Whatever you need, sweetheart.” His voice was a low murmur, ripe with wry amusement… and heavy promise. He thrust the toy deeper, until her cries became ragged and her hips rocked back in a desperate rhythm. And then she felt the slight pressure of the rabbit’s ears against her tender clit. She tensed in anticipation for a second before he switched on the vibrator and sent pleasure shuddering through her.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, hearing how high and needy she sounded, lacking the ability to care. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She could cry, with this thick length buried deep inside her and those sweet vibrations massaging her swollen clit. “Nik, I’m gonna come, make me come, I need to—" Her words turned into a keening moan.

Without warning, she felt the hot, wet stripe of his tongue between her cheeks, just missing that sensitive hole. Always, he was a fucking tease. What she wanted was his mouth, hot and unrestrained on that forbidden place. “More,” she gasped out, straining toward him.

“More?” He sounded, for the first time, slightly hesitant. “You want—fuck, you want more.” His words broke off a second before his tongue found her tight hole, flicking sweet and wet over her puckered flesh, sending daggers of desire through her veins. The pleasure was so intense it seemed almost painful.

He licked her again and again, still driving the dildo inside her, nudging that vibrator against her clit—until infinity stretched and paused all at once, until spiralling bliss became screaming release. Too fast, way faster than usual, and way too fucking intense. But that wasn’t the part that bothered her.

No. What bothered Aria was the sound of his name on her lips. She cried out to him as if it meant something. As if he wasn’t the kind of man who’d fuck her just to fuck her. And when she was done, he kissed her hip and ran a soothing hand over her spine as if he actually gave a shit.

Knowing him, he did give a shit. She couldn’t doubt that no matter who Nik slept with, he treated them gently.

But she wasn’t the kind of woman who could take orgasms and gentleness and emerge without compromising her ridiculous heart. In fact, she’d learned the hard way that orgasms and gentleness were enough to sneak past her defences in a way that endangered lives.

Maybe that was why panic clawed at her throat. Maybe that was why she blurted out, her voice overly loud in the silence, “Banana split.”

He didn’t ask questions. He left.