Page 55 of Filthy Secret

He smirks, his eyes sliding down my body before they come back up to meet my own. He no doubt is judging my outfit with his statement about me not being the type.

Granted, I’m not. But I assuredly am not in my black jeans that are a little baggy, my tennis shoes, my black T-shirt that’s tucked into the front of my high-waisted jeans but hangs loosely in the back. And then there’s my hair, thrown up into a messy bun. I look exactly like the mom I am.

“Yeah, babe. I do. But mainly because I’ve known you since you were seven years old.”

I’d forgotten that Gnaw was in my sister’s year in school, and while we weren’t friends, he and Ellen were. In reality, Ellen was friends with every boy she ever met, no matter how old she was. She’s still the same way, although friendship changed around twelve years old for her because that’s when she started having sex.

I always get a little twinge in my chest at the thought of my sister having sex at that age, knowing that she was just a little kid. She should have been playing with Barbies still. She should have been playing in the dirt.

But she wasn’t. Our lives weren’t mud pies and lemonade stands. It’s just not how we were raised. However, whereas she followed our mother’s path, I chose to be the extreme opposite. I lost my virginity to Grover, and for seven years, he was the only man I’d ever been with. I tried with someone else, but it didn’t work, and here I am, back to him.

“Fine. You know me. I wouldn’t ever do that,” I snap.

Gnaw chuckles. “He’s at the bar, alone, if you’re wondering. Probably too drunk to walk, though.”

“Which means he’s too drunk to fight,” I mutter to myself.

“That too,” Gnaw chuckles.

I lift my eyes to him, widening them before I clear my throat. “I don’t understand how you can ride those bikes, listen to this loud-ass music, and still hear me when I practically whisper.”

“It’s your tone,” he says. “I can pick up that female frequency from a mile away.”

“Just in case she’s a willing woman?” I ask.

He grins. “You know it, legs.”

Rolling my eyes, I give him a smile, then, against my better judgment, I wade through the crowd and go in search of Grover at the bar. He’s exactly where Gnaw said he would be. Alone, a glass and a bottle in front of him, his forehead resting on his arm as he lies there, no doubt contemplating what the fuck he did wrong in his life.

I can answer that.

It was me.

ATOMIC

My entire body jumps. It jerks, and I lift my head, looking over to see what’s made me do that. Then I see her eyes focused on mine, and my entire fucking body aches. For her. I fucking ache for her. I kind of hate myself for it. How goddamn ridiculous I am, and what a pussy.

“You okay?” she asks, her voice soft and sweet.

I hate that shit, too. She doesn’t look like the villain I want her to be right now. In fact, she is sexy as fuck, even though she’s not wearing anything overtly sexual. It works for her, and I want nothing more than to be inside of her body.

Turning in my chair to face her, I widen my thighs, gripping her hips with my fingers before I tug her between my legs. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t protest the move. Keeping one of my hands on her hip, I slide the other around to her back and up her spine, stopping when I reach the middle and applying pressure to bring her face closer to mine.

She obliges me, bending down far enough that I can’t kiss her, but I also don’t have to yell at her to talk. It’s not exactly what I want, but close enough for now. Looking into her eyes, I search for that woman who lied, who hid a whole fucking life from me, but I don’t see her.

I just see Ryan.

“Why do you piss me off, and at the same time, I still want to fuck the absolute shit out of you?” I ask.

Her lips curve up into a small smirk. “I feel the exact same way.”

Releasing my grip on her hip, I lift my hand and wrap my fingers around the side of her neck. I slide my thumb along the underside of her eye and continue searching her gaze. “Legs,” I rasp. “Fucking hell.”

She reaches up, gripping my shoulders as she climbs onto my lap, her knees on either side of me, resting against the chair. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I hold her against me. Her tits press against my chest, and I can feel them through my shirt. Fuck, I want her naked and pressed against me right now.

Sliding my hand from the center of her back all the way past her neck, I tangle it in the hair at the nape of her neck as I hold her closer to me.

“I’m still pissed as fuck at you,” I remind her.