Lifting my head in time, I see her stunning face etched in pleasure.
After a few blissful seconds, her sleepy eyes meet mine in the mirror. A scary feeling of protectiveness takes hold of my heart from the trust shining in her gaze.
Trust I don’t deserve.
Tearing my gaze away, I gently pull out of her and stand up. Walking into the adjoining bathroom, I take care of the condom and wash my hands in the sink.
Leaning over the vanity, I shake off the emotion that surged a minute ago.
I have half a heart to wait here until she takes the hint to go away. But I promised her I wouldn’t treat her like shit.
Putting on the spare sweatpants I have in the bathroom, I conceal my expression and return to the room.
Only to come to a halt.
Dressed in my shirt, she sits anxiously on the edge of the bed. Her hands stop twisting on her lap when she sees me.
I’m trying to process the sexy sight of her in my shirt when she speaks up. “I’m just borrowing it. I didn’t have anything else to wear.”
“I don’t mind,” I reply hoarsely. “Keep it.”
The glow on her face deepens. Standing up, she formally asks like I didn’t come inside her just a minute ago. “Can I use your bathroom before I leave?”
I hate her tone. Even though it’s exactly what I hoped for. “Sure.”
My shirt hangs just above her knees. The collar threatens to slide down one shoulder, revealing creamy skin. A dark hickey sits where her neck and collarbone meet.
I bet it isn’t the only mark I’ve left on her body.
Too bad I’ve lost the chance to see it.
I grab her elbow before she can walk past me. She hides the small gasp, but I hear it in the dark. Peering down at her, I struggle to fix the awkwardness between us. “Ari…”
“It’s okay, Nathan.” She forces a smile. “I know what I signed up for. It’s just sex.”
A week ago, I would’ve been relieved hearing those words.
Hell, even an hour ago.
Right now, they sting.
They don’t belong on her lips.
Slipping her arm free from my grip, she walks into the bathroom and locks the door. I stare at it, contemplating going after her. But then I remind myself, this is for the better.
Becoming attached to me will become her downfall.
So instead of chasing after Arya, I run after the vice that I can never disappoint.
The glass of whiskey I left untouched.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Arya
I enter my office at eight sharp in the morning.
Like every day the past two weeks, flashbacks of Nathan going down on me on my desk play in my head.
