“And I don’t want to either, because he can’t commit. He’s young, gorgeous, rich, and he’s enjoying it.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “He certainly did.”
Her gaze narrowed, her pleasant expression slipping slightly. “He doesn’t respect the women he fucks. The minute he shoved his dick in you, you were done. Just like all the others. But I’m still here, because I’m the one he wants to keep around for the long haul.”
I maintained my cool even though the blow had been a perfect hit right where the most damage could be done. “That’s pathetic.”
I walked out and didn’t stop until I reached Stanton’s limousine. Squeezing Cary’s hand as I got in, I managed to wait until the car pulled away from the curb to start crying.
“Hey, baby girl,” Cary called out when I shuffled into the living room the next morning. Dressed in nothing but a loose pair of old sweats, he was stretched out on the couch with his feet crossed and propped on the coffee table. He looked beautifully disheveled and comfortable in his own skin. “How’d you sleep?”
I gave him the thumbs-up and headed into the kitchen for coffee. I paused by the breakfast bar, my brows lifting at the massive arrangement of red roses on the counter. The fragrance was divine and I inhaled it with a deep breath. “What’s this?”
“They came for you about an hour ago. A Sunday delivery. Pretty and super pricey.”
I plucked the card off the clear plastic stake and opened it.
I’m still thinking about you.
Gideon
“From Cross?” Cary asked.
“Yes.” My thumb brushed over what I assumed was his handwriting. It was bold and masculine and sexy. A romantic gesture for a guy who didn’t have romance in his repertoire. I dropped the card on the counter as if it’d burned me and fetched a mug of coffee, praying caffeine would give me strength and restore my common sense.
“You don’t seem impressed.” He lowered the volume on the football game he was watching.
“He’s bad news for me. He’s like one giant trigger. I just need to stay away from him.” Cary had been through therapy with me and he knew the drill. He didn’t look at me funny when I broke things down into therapeutic jargon, and he didn’t have any trouble shooting it back to me the same way.
“The phone’s been ringing all morning, too. I didn’t want it to disturb you, so I shut the volume off.”
Aware of the lingering ache between my legs, I curled up on the couch and fought the compulsion to listen to our voice mail to see if Gideon had called. I wanted to hear his voice, and an explanation that would make sense of what happened last night. “Sounds good to me. Let’s leave it off all day.”
“What happened?”
I blew steam off the top of my mug and took a tentative sip. “I fucked his brains out in his limo and he turned arctic afterward.”
Cary watched me with those worldly emerald eyes, eyes that had seen more than anyone should be subjected to. “Rocked his world, did you?”
“Yeah, I did.” And I got riled up just thinking about it. We’d connected. I knew it. I’d wanted him more than anything last night, and today I wanted nothing to do with him ever again. “It was intense. The best sexual experience of my life, and he was right there with me. I know he was. First time he’d ever made it in a car, and he was kind of resistant at first, but then I got him so hot for it he couldn’t say no.”
“Really? Never?” He ran a hand over his morning stubble. “Most guys scratch car banging off their fuck list in high school. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who didn’t, except for the nerds and fuglies, and he’s neither.”
I shrugged. “I guess car banging makes me a slut.”
Cary grew very still. “Is that what he said?”
“No. He didn’t say shit. I got that from his ‘friend,’ Magdalene. You know that chick in most of the photos you printed off the Internet? She decided to sharpen her claws with a little catty girl chat in the bathroom.”