Page 31 of All Bets Are Off
“Vida. Angel.” I pull out of her mouth with a sharp groan, studying her for signs of distress or regret or anything. Anything I caused by being so rough. But apart from some of my come clinging to her lips, she only looks winded. I use the edge of the sheet to wipe her mouth, then lie down beside her, drawing her into a bear hug, my labored breathing loud in the room. “You’re incredible. You’re perfect, my angel. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got so?—”
She interrupts me with a kiss. “You have to stop apologizing.” Her eyes shine over at me, her voice raspy. Of course it is. I was just down her throat. “Every time you let yourself go, you apologize, but…look at me. I keep coming back for more because I love it.” She ducks her head a little shyly, and I’m so charmed, I can’t fucking breathe. “I had no idea I would love the way you speak to me so much, but you’re so sweet the rest of the time, I think maybe it balances out.”
It all comes back.
How I encouraged her to be a slut. A whore.
Words I never say to anyone.
Words that flipped a dark switch in us both that led to satisfaction, as if they’d been whispered in my ear like a secret recipe to satisfy her needs. And mine. Ones I didn’t even know I had.
“And calling me Daddy?”
She giggles into my chest, her face flushed when she looks up at me. “At first I wasn’t sure, but…”
“But what?”
Her brows draw together as if she’s searching for the right words. When she reveals them, they’re hushed, like she’s sharing a secret. “When you say that word, it makes my tummy feel hot and my skin gets clammy. It makes me feel fragile and safe and…treasured.”
“Youare.That’s exactly what I want.” I roll our foreheads together, thanking whatever fates blew this girl through my hotel room door. “Thank God you love what we do because I don’t think I can live without it, or you, anymore,” I say, kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips. “But ifanythingI ever do is too much, you’ll tell me?”
Her smile makes my pulse skip. “I think you know I will.”
“And then I’ll never do it again.”
“I think I know that, too,” she whispers, brushing my hair back with her soft fingertips. A few seconds of silence pass as we stare at each other. “I’ll come to your party tonight.”
My heart climbs up into my throat. “You will?”
She nods. “I don’t want to be away from you for a whole night. We have so little time.”
Okay. She still doesn’t get it.
I’m not letting her go. Obviously, she needs more time and reassurance to believe that this relationship doesn’t have an end date.
I’m happy to provide it.
“I don’t want to spend a night away from you, either, angel. I wouldn’t be able to stand it,” I say fervently. Thickly. Drawing her tight to my body, wishing I could absorb her into my very blood stream. “Everything is going to be all right. I won’t let it be anything but all right for you.”
TEN
Vida
I hang back behindone of the pilings on the dock, watching the party in progress on Tripp’s yacht. I thought I’d prepared myself for what awaited me tonight, but holy hell, I was not ready.
First of all, Tripp’s yacht is the granddaddy of all the yachts moored in the harbor. It’s at least 150 feet long, towering above every other boat parked nearby. It’s massive and sparkling and no doubt wildly expensive. It probably cost more money than I’ll ever earn in my lifetime.
But I expected that. I don’t have to Google the Sterlings’ net worth to know there are a lot of zeroes.
It’s the people partying on board that keep me hidden behind the thick post.
Young men in white linen shirts, left open. Leather dock shoes. Gold watches.
The girls are in dresses a pop star might wear to the Grammys. Every one of them looks like a perfectly styledinfluencer, not a hair out of place even in the night breeze. Diamonds encircle their throats and wrists. Champagne flutes in their elegant hands.
I am wearing jean shorts and a bikini top.
Flip flops.
