Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
She frowns. “You actually want to talk about this?”
“You don’t?”
“I guess we could. It’s just that I expected…”
“What? For me to roll you on your back and do you again without saying a word? Or for you to wake and find me gone because I decided to skip out?”
“Either.”
I can only imagine she expects that because someone taught her to. “Was Dalton the morning-after jackass?”
“He was one of them.” She nibbles on her lip nervously, gaze not wavering from the brew in her mug. “But he was the one who hurt the most.”
I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Want to tell me about him?”
She shakes her head. “He’s not important.”
“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, Beth. But I need to know what you want to happen between us next.”
“I don’t know.”
“Now that we’ve had a night of fun, are you having thoughts about kicking me to the curb?”
“I wouldn’t have said yes in the first place if I didn’t like you enough to want more than a hookup. But I don’t have any expectations,” she’s quick to assure me. “I just appreciate you being so…kind.”
I’m not following. “Kind?”
A soft blush stains her cheeks. “Caring about my pleasure. I’ve only had that once before, and even then—”
“Seriously?”
“That’s weird to you, huh? Sex was just never that important. Now I see the big deal.” She gives me a nervous laugh.
It’s shocking to hear Beth confirm the suspicions I had last night. It blows my mind that a woman as gorgeous and responsive in bed as Bethany has only had one sexual partner before me who gave a shit about her pleasure. I’m not going to ask if she’s picked up all her exes at Douchebags R Us. And I’m not listening to that voice in the back of my head—the one that sounds a lot like Bret’s—telling me I shouldn’t be giving her orgasms now. Because what really matters is what happens next.
“It was a big deal for me, too.” And while I’m being honest, I might as well admit something else. “It felt special.”
In fact, I’m not only relieved that I need to spend more time with her to find out what she knows about the Reed Financial scheme, I want to spend time with her. If she were any other woman, I’d already be thinking this relationship might turn serious.
Instead of smiling, she nods pensively. “It’s almost too bad we can’t have more than sex.”
Frowning, I sit and pull her onto my lap. “Why can’t we?”
“Like I’ve said, there’s a lot going on in my life. I don’t know how long I’ll be on the island. Or how long you’ll be here, for that matter. Still…” She squirms. “It’s only fair of me to tell you that…I’m not exactly who you think I am.”
I try to act completely casual, as if I’m not thrilled she might be on the verge of admitting something useful. “What do you mean? You’re not Beth?”
“You’ve heard my family call me Bethany.”
“Yeah, I figured you liked using your nickname at work or something.”
“It’s…more complicated than that.” She presses her lips together. “Remember I told you that my dad and I aren’t speaking, that our relationship is messed up?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s done some illegal things and he’s probably going to prison for a long time. Before you ask, yes, I’m shocked and I’m saddened. But all this has put me in a really awkward position. People who knew and trusted me have turned on me. Even those I’ve worked with for years suddenly seem to have their pitchforks in hand, and they’re coming after me.”
“Guilt by association?”
“Pretty much. The guy in the loud Hawaiian shirt who keeps hounding me? He’s a former client. I’ve known him for a decade.”
The asshole’s behavior makes more sense now, but it’s still not okay. He doesn’t get to verbally or physically harass Bethany for answers.
Is what you’re doing any better?
I shove aside the nagging voice. “What does he think you can tell him? Do you actually know anything about what your dad was busted for?”
She sighs and rises, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “I can’t really talk about it.”
I try to tamp down my disappointment. It was unrealistic to hope that after one night she was going to spill all her secrets. But I want like hell to end this subterfuge, tell her who I am, admit my unexpected feelings so we can move past this. Maybe she cares enough about us to stay with me.
“I’d like to help you, but I can’t if I don’t understand.”
“I appreciate that, but there’s nothing you can do now. I just thought you should know I’m kind of off-balance and I have been since my professional life fell apart. I’ll figure it out, but everything happened so recently. It’s been a lot.”