––––––––
GODDAMMIT, I HAVE GOT TO stop kissing her.
Every time I slipped, her taste burned deeper into my psyche. Every press of our lips, I slid farther on the slope of wanting something I couldn’t have.
Never again.
No more kisses.
No more whispers.
No more truths.
She’d promised me she wouldn’t fight.
That was enough.
With her in on the ruse, I could act like them, fuck like them, abuse like them, all while Ily trusted that every bruise I gave her was for the greater good.
The greater good?
Shit.
Why did that make me feel so seedy? So dirty?
She thinks you’re a cop.
I stood behind her with a book in my hands. A book I had no intention of reading, ready to play my part.
She’d promised to play with me.
And in return, I made her a silent vow.
I would never kiss her again.
No matter what I did to her.
No matter how many times I had to fuck her, hurt her, make her sob and beg and cry, I would never steal another kiss.
Never allow such intimacy to form.
Never let her think I was redeemable.
This was a business arrangement...nothing more.
A kiss was for lovers.
For hearts and souls and ever afters.
We were not lovers.
Fuck, I didn’t have the words for what we were.
Whatever we’d become, we were bound by a common goal, and as long as we stuck to those rules, then whatever I did to her would be exonerated and explainable.
I could hold my head up high when Q came blasting through the gates and pretend I hadn’t broken. I’d found a way to prove I deserved him and his family, all while playing a slippery game of truths and lies.
She thinks I’m a cop.