Page 35 of The Betrayal

“For fuck’s sake,” I swat him, slapping my hand against his chest.

“What?” he chuckles.

“What are you even doing here?” I hiss. “Go away,” I stomp my heeled foot like a bratty child.

“Hey, no pouting. I am just keeping watch,” and he winks just as his arm wraps around behind me and rests his hand on the small of my back. “I am allowed to, right?” his voice is raspy, my eyes glued to his, my lips parted, and I hate that he makes me feel this way. Giddy and dizzy. Wanting and needy. Horny. All the god damn time.

“Sure,” I grin, my lip curling over my teeth. “Enjoy watching me,” I snap out of my hypnotic gaze, push him back and walk past him, hips sashaying side to side.

“Fuck, you look gorgeous… your ass…”

“Fuck off Keaton,” I flip him off, but what he doesn’t see is my huge smile.

Collapsing on my bed, I don’t even have the energy to take my make-up off and I know I’ll regret it in the morning. By the time my face is buried into the pillow, I’m out cold.

Groaning, I roll over to my phone buzzing. I’m a light sleeper. Hate it. I reach around for it and see Lucy’s name flashing.

“What?” I snap, sleep evident in my voice.

“Wakey Wakey, you promised me coffee today,” she sings down the phone.

“Shove your coffee up ya ass, I’m wrecked,” I moan, and my body aches.

“That’s not nice, look, I’ll be a couple of hours and I’ll come pick you up. Go back to sleep for an hour or so then get dressed. See you later bitch.” She hangs the phone up and I face plant the pillow.

Why the fuck do I make plans after I’ve done an eleven-hour shift?

I try with all my might to get back to sleep, but I can’t.

“Thanks Luce,” frustration fills me and I am pent up.

I spend twenty minutes scrolling my phone and I see a picture of my dad and Amora. I sigh, they make such a lovely couple.

I would probably get on with her quite well.

Shame really. Oh well.

Tossing my phone into the duvet, I clamber out of bed, all limbs as I notice the make-up imprint on my white pillowcase.

Shit.

Stripping it off, I throw my bedding into the corner of the room. Peeling my clothes from my tired body, I pad heavily towards my bathroom and slip under the hot water.

Hair washed, body washed and moisturized. I felt so much better.

Placing a foot on the bathmat, my eyes widen when I see the empty towel rail. Fuck it. Rushing for the storage cupboard in the corner of the bathroom, I tug the door open and moan with frustration. Empty.

What an idiot.

I’m gonna have to shout down to Keaton.

Opening my bedroom door, I poke my head out, my skin is silky and wet and I internally curse myself for not checking before.

“Keat!” I shout and wait a moment.

My hair drips down my body, running over the curve of my breasts before rolling off and into the carpet.

Nothing.