Page 41 of Good Girls Like it Dirty
Chapter Thirteen
Monique glanced at the screen. Wow.
“Got some good news?” her roommate Erin asked from the kitchen.
Monique blinked and glanced at her red-haired roommate. She had come back to the apartment to grab some things, and also to get ready for the fancy party Zaine was taking her to. Supposedly a big event for some exclusive architects’ association.
And now, as she had checked her email after she’d dressed up, her heart stopped, only to resume beating at an Olympian’s pace.
“I got a really good score on my English test. Like, really amazing,” she said.
Erin poured herself some green tea. “Congrats. That’s great.”
Mrs. Sandoval had been right. Nothing was stopping her from sending the test’s electronic results with the resume and cover letter she had already saved in her email inbox. With her qualifications, she had a good shot at landing the job of her dreams in Senegal and making a real difference in that part of the world.
She scrolled the mouse over the results and then closed her laptop and put it in her room. Her stomach dropped to the floor like she’d just received bad news instead of the news she’d been waiting for. Crap. Crap, crap.
Monique smoothed her hand over the cobalt dress Zaine had bought her for tonight’s event. He’d had the sense to remove the price tag, but a quick survey online showed her this Valentino cost enough for her to pay her share of rent for months. She sucked in a breath. The gown embraced her curves in an elegant way, without showing too much. The V cut between the valley of her breasts reached down enough to make it sexy and not vulgar. The fabric felt luxurious, expensive, and decadent.
She knew the price of this dress—and knew the price of their relationship. Whether they had discussed it upfront or not didn’t matter. Didn’t make it any easier. She’d never started an affair in her life with the idea it’d end. Sure, not being gullible, she believed most good things came to an end anyway. But she never pursued a new romance with a set date for it to end. And now she’d anticipate the date by applying for the position.
Do I have to? Can’t I enjoy a few more weeks with Zaine?
She had tried so hard not to label her feelings for him, even to herself. Now, it became obvious in the last few weeks she’d fallen for him—truly and madly. Foolishly. What if he never saw her as someone other than a booty call? Sure, he’d stuck up for her in Hawaii, when his friends dissed her. But he still had accepted to work with his former wife on a big project.
Ashley could take him one step further, career-wise. She was the one with the fancy degree, amazing job, and connections. The bigwigs from the board, and even Lara, didn’t care if Ashley was rotten inside. They just wanted her polished exterior with nice, American blue blood credentials.
The doorbell startled her. She grabbed the black clutch and exited her bedroom, then rushed to the door and opened it, her blood still thrumming in her veins.
“Whoa,” he said, and she shared the sentiment.
Black-tie Zaine magically shredded her worries away, and her nipples perked up. Why should she tell him anything about her high score right away? She had time to make the decision of whether to apply early or not. Besides, he looked good enough to eat and they were about to attend a swanky party together. Why kill the vibe?
Enjoy, said a little voice inside her. He kissed her cheek, and all the way to his car and while he opened the door of the limo she chanted the mantra internally. Enjoy.
Why hyperventilate? He’d never once told her he wanted commitment. Putain, he was still legally committed to another woman. From what she gathered, they’d started the proceedings, but because of their lack of urgency when Ashley had left, it wouldn’t be resolved overnight. Guys like that usually preferred to live up their bachelorhood before delving into something more serious. Though, to be fair, Zaine wasn’t like every other guy she’d met.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
You. “This must be a really fancy event. I’ve never been in a limo before,” she said. No kidding. The inside of the stretch vehicle was opulent: buttery leather seats, a mini-bar, and even a small plasma TV in the corner.
“Then we need to make your first time a memorable one,” he said, and pulled her into his lap.
She nudged the side of his chest. “I thought this event meant a lot. Creased clothes and fancy parties don’t go together.”
Unfazed, he hiked up her dress, and every inch of her skin prickled in excitement. She touched his broad shoulders, her hand splayed against his hard body. “No. You and I go together.”
His words sent a crazy heat to her stomach, and for a moment, she could take on the world. Nothing would be impossible, and she felt invincible…they were invincible. Together.
Zaine pulled her G-string to the side and thrust three fingers into her pussy. She writhed against him, rocking her hips into his hand relentlessly. He flicked her clit with his thumb while his other two fingers curled into her soaked folds. She kissed him, hoping to translate the urgency roaring in her body. “Yes.”
He thrust his fingers deeper into her, and she humped them, moaning. Soon, she trembled on top of him, with bolts of pleasure riding her from top to bottom.
“Don’t go back to France,” he said, his voice shaky. “Stay with me.”
“Yes,” she said a bit too quickly, his words still swimming in her head.
“Yes?” He parted her pussy lips, and she lifted her thighs.
