The final wave of ecstasy leaves me shaking and gasping for breath. His fingers slow, his touch gentling as he brings me back down to earth. I cling to him, my body limp and sated, my mind a whirl of conflicting emotions.
He called me his beautiful girl. I'm not, though, am I? I'm Reeves’s girl, but I suppose that in this moment, I belong to Caine.
Confusion washes over me as Caine leans into me and kisses my earlobe gently. "That was an amazing thing to see. You are so fucking beautiful, Jenna."
Suddenly, I feel sick, wrecked with guilt. With the unbearable, urgent ache gone and satiated, my head is functioning properly again, and I'm completely and utterly ashamed of myself.
Fuck, I should have ran into the storage room by myself, and called Clara, like I promised. She would have talked some sense into me.
Reality instantly comes back to me, and I panic. Greg could be right outside the door. Customers could be waiting for me. What the fuck am I doing?
"We have to go," I tell him, breathless. "We can't be in here."
He smiles. "You're not wrong."
"Uh… let me go out first.” My hands are shaking, and my knees are wobbly. I'm not even sure I can walk out straight.
He watches me as I slowly turn the handle and peek out. There's no one in sight. I quickly wave him out.
Reality swiftly seeps back in like a cold draft, reminding me that this—whatever this is between Caine and me—can never be more than this.
I'm skirting into dangerous territory — this is now a completely different kind of game, one that is intoxicating but much more dangerous. This has momentum now. I should never have done what I just did. Who knows what I just started.
I feel selfish. I panicked. I left him hanging. I wish I could have stroked him into oblivion and made him come too. I would have loved to see the sight of that beautiful face when he reached his climax. But that would have felt like an even bigger betrayal.
I suppose he can go off to his car and jerk-off. Just the thought of him leaning back and closing his beautiful eyes, thinking about me, stroking his hard cock arouses me so much.
Fuck. This shit has gotten way out of hand.
As we quietly say our goodbyes, he tugs at my heart still, and I find myself hating Reeves and Greg for what they did to him.
I watch him walk away, and as he exits the hall, he bumps into Greg, who scowls at him—he hates Caine as much as Reeves does.
I stand there, smug, waiting for Greg to come closer. And when he does, I don't hesitate to give him a piece of my mind. "Reeves’s guard dog is super late today," I quip. "What happened?"
He heads into the office and throws his backpack on the floor. He's not in the mood, and I really don't care. "My wheel popped right off," he tells me matter-of-factly.
"Well, I guess you should be thankful you're still alive," I offer with a scowl, a small part of me wishing him harm.
He pulls off his hat, hair dishevelled as usual. "Yeah, I got lucky… happened when I was turning. I'd slowed down, so no accident. No one got hurt."
Visions of him beating the shit out of a young Caineswirl around in my head. "Yep, wouldn't want to send anyone to the hospital, would you?"
He cocks a brow as he pulls off his jacket. "Of course not."
"Like you did when you were a stupid kid." A stupid kid who turned into a stupid adult, I can't help but think.
"What?!"
"Caine," I say. "I know all about it."
He blows out a breath. "Oh, what did that pompous ass tell you?"
"The truth."
He shakes his head, not adding a single word to the conversation, confirming Caine's version of the story.
"You and Reeves are assholes," I add for good measure.
