Page 23 of Faithless Vows

She leans in close, her mouth near my ear. “Congratulations, Ronin,” she whispers, her breath hot against my skin.

Then she kisses me.

Her perfume fills my senses—thick, musky. Wrong. Not light like Alannah’s. When she pulls back, her eyes are dark, searching mine.

“Come on,” she says softly, reaching past me to open the back door of the Cadillac.

I should pull away.

But I don’t.

I climb into the back seat, and she follows, pulling the door shut behind us. The interior is dark, the streetlight casting shadows as she moves closer. Her hands find my shoulders, then my chest, sliding down.

“Kitty—”

She kisses me again, harder, and I let her.

My hands move to her waist, pulling her closer.

“Is this okay?” she asks, her voice low. She reaches into her bra and pulls out a small foil packet, holding it up between us.

The sight of it—the fact that she brought it, that she planned this—registers for a moment, then slides away. “Yeah,” I manage. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Her hands are on my belt, working it loose. She tears open the foil packet. Rolls on the condom. Then she’s straddling me, her skirt riding up as she lowers herself onto me. The weight of her is real, solid. Her skin feels hot against mine.

The car rocks.

I close my eyes, my hands gripping her hips, and let myself fall into it. Into her. Into the wrongness of it that feelstoo easy to ignore when my head is this thick and she’s this close.

It doesn’t last long. The alcohol has dulled everything, turned it hazy and unfocused. By the time it’s over, I barely know when it happened. She stays where she is for a moment, her forehead resting against mine, both of us breathing hard.

Then she shifts into the seat beside me. I watch, detached, as she smooths her skirt down and fixes her hair, the movements too practised, too casual. Something about it sits wrong.

I let my head drop, gaze moving to my lap, needing to look away. But instead I’m met with more proof of what I’ve just done—my shirt open, belt undone, the condom still on my softening cock. I close my eyes.

“You all right?” Her voice cuts through the quiet, closer than I expect.

I croak out a “yeah,” though I’m not sure it’s true.

She leans over, presses a kiss to my cheek, then opens the door and slips out into the night. “Get some sleep, Ronin,” she says, and then she’s gone, the door closing behind her.

I sit there in the dark, the reality of what just happened starting to seep in through the haze.

Tomorrow I’m supposed to pick up Alannah. Take her to see the house. Our house.

I close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat. My head throbs in time with my heartbeat.How much did I drink?The thought barely finishes forming before everything slows and drifts, sleep pulling me under.

I wake slowly. My neck is stiff, my mouth dry, and at first I don’t remember where I am. Then it comes back—the bar, the drinks, Kitty leaning against my car… the backseat.

Oh shit.

I fucked up.

I sit up, every muscle protesting. My pants are still undone. I do them up with clumsy fingers, then climb into the front seat and start the car.

The drive home is a blur. I don’t remember the turns, don’t remember parking. I just find myself sitting outside my house, engine off, staring at nothing.

In a few hours, I’m supposed to pick up Alannah. Take her to lunch. Show her the house. Watch her face light up when she sees the home we’re going to share.