Chapter 32

Before I can consider what I’m doing, I throw myself flat on the seat. I look up at Shane. “Not like this. Please.” Not with a plug in my ass and my thighs still wet from riding his cock. It’s not even that I’m opposed to Max catching us, but I don’t want it to be fucking in a parking lot like a pair of teenagers. It doesn’t make sense, even to me, but Shane nods and puts the truck in gear.

He takes a right turn into traffic and his phone rings. A detached female voice on the Bluetooth tells me everything I need to know. It’s Max calling. Shane answers before I can decide if I want him to or not. “What’s up?”

“Were you just in the Castle parking lot? I thought I saw your truck.”

Shane laughs. “It’s Saturday morning. What are you and

Lily up to that you’re there so early?”

I stare. What a shameless bastard.

Awkward silence reigns. Finally, Max clears his throat. “We, uh, broke up earlier this week. It wasn’t working out for either of us.”

Shane looks down at me, his eyes sympathetic even if his words are designed to split me wide open. “Moving on awful fast then, aren’t you, son?”

Another awkward throat clearing. “Look, I can explain, but the short answer is that yeah, I’m seeing someone else.

It’s not a big deal.” It’s. Not. A. Big. Deal.

Any guilt I had over what I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours doing goes up in smoke. I shift on the seat until I can reach the front of Shane’s pants. He lets me get his cock out, but then he digs his hand into my hair and pins my head to his thigh, forcing me still. Through it all, his voice never changes. “Sounds like a big deal to me.”

“Look, I know you always liked Lily, but it wasn’t working out.”

We stop at a light and he’s watching me again, dark eyes intense. “I liked her a whole hell of a lot.”

“Well then, maybe you should date her,” Max snaps. “She’s not for me, and if you ask her, she’d tell you that herself. I’m not here for this guilt trip. Now I’ve got to go.

My girlfriend is waiting.”

Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend.

Shane hangs up and releases me at the same moment. I grab his cock and swallow him down, desperate to drive away how fucking replaceable I feel at this moment. Max wasn’t just fucking his secretary. He was—is—dating her.

“He’s an idiot,” Shane says quietly.

I don’t care. I’m not listening. I’m too busy fighting to take his big cock as far into my throat as I can manage. The discomfort in my jaw grounds me in a way nothing else can right now. I’m vaguely aware of us making another turn and another, of Shane finally putting the truck in park and leaning back, but it barely registers because this blowjob is the only thing that matters. If I allow myself to think of anything else, I might start screaming and never stop.

He gathers my hair in his left hand and skates his right hand down my back. He’s tall enough to reach my hips easily and he starts squeezing my ass cheeks, making the plug shift inside me. “Do you hear me, Lily? I said he’s a fucking idiot. He doesn’t give a shit what he’s throwing away. He doesn’t understand what a goddamn gift you are.” He presses his palm hard against the plug and shoves three fingers into me, making me moan. “You know what? I am going to do it. I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to date you, and it would serve that little shit right if I married you and made you his stepmother.”

I make a noise around his length, but even I don’t know if it’s a sound of protest or encouragement. He doesn’t know either because he drags me off his cock and up to his mouth, and then lifts me with his fingers in my pussy to move me back onto his lap. He tightens his grip on my hair, bending me back over the steering wheel so he can drag his mouth over my breasts. “Your Daddy knows what you need, baby girl. Now get back on this cock.”

I slam into him, but it’s not enough. I don’t know if anything will be enough. “It hurts. It hurts so much.”

“I know.” Shane doesn’t need me to clarify that I’m not talking about physical pain. He kisses me as I ride him, as I chase the temporary oblivion an orgasm offers. A little death, a small escape, one I need more than I need my next breath.

It hits me hard enough to make me cry out against his mouth. I’m vaguely aware of tears wetting my cheeks, but it doesn’t matter because nothing matters right now. Nothing but the pleasure coursing through my body in waves, sending me to new heights even as the last bit of my heart remaining shatters into a million pieces.

And then I start sobbing.

Shane manages to get me off his cock and get our clothing righted even though I’m no help at all. I can’t stop crying. I don’t even know what I’m crying for. As Shane gathers me back into his lap and holds me tightly, words bubble up. “I feel relief that it’s over. At some point, I’ll be glad we didn’t get married. Why does it hurt so much?” “Endings always hurt, baby girl. Even when they’re necessary.” He keeps holding me, comforting me with his strength without demanding anything in return. He’s content to simply sit there and let me cry. I wish I could say I stopped immediately, but even after four days of crying, I have enough tears to drown in the ocean.

By the time I cry myself out, his shirt is soaked and I don’t have to look in a mirror to know that I’m a blotchy mess and all my makeup is gone or smeared beyond repair. It takes longer than it should to realize we’re back in the garage, though he hasn’t shut it since the truck is still running. I give a hiccupping little sigh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He tilts my face up, his grip tightening when I try to turn away. “Don’t ever apologize to me for what you’re feeling.” He wipes away my tears, his touch achingly tender. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

I feel a little ridiculous pulling on my panties again, but one look at Shane’s face ensures I’m not arguing about it. The second I take my first step out of the truck, I freeze, all thoughts of Max disappearing like a mirage in the desert. Shane opens the door to the house and looks at me, one of his eyebrows arching. “Problem?”

My face is flaming and I can’t tell if it’s a blush or the aftermath of my sobbing session. “The plug feels funny.”

“Mmm.” He crooks a finger at me, his amusement deepening as I wiggle a little with each step. “Looks like it’s a good kind of funny.”

“I think so?”

“Keep it in.” He takes the coat off me in the mud room and hangs it back in its place. Then Shane surveys me. “If you need time—”

I’m already shaking my head. “I don’t want to think. Please.” When he still hesitates, I move closer. “This started as revenge, but it’s—When I’m with you, I’m not thinking about him.”

He studies me. “Eventually you have to deal with what you’re feeling.”

I know that. I desperately wish I didn’t know that. I look up at him. “I will. I promise I will. Just…not this weekend.”

For a second, I think he’s going to keep arguing. He knows this time with him is just a bandage on a bullet wound, but Shane finally catches my hips and pulls me against him. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” I’m not even sure what I’m thanking him for. Space. Orgasms. Being here for me to crash myself upon with the minimum damage. No matter how destructive my original impulse to seduce Shane, I can’t deny he’s caught me in the middle of a freefall. It’s still a freefall, but it feels more guided now. I try for a wobbling smile. “I’m going to wash my face.”

“Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done.” He tugs on the loose fabric of the crop top. “Keep this on.”

I don’t have the energy to push him. Maybe I will in a little bit, but I’m still reeling from the last hour. Good to bad to ugly, a whirlwind of emotions that have left me spinning with no idea which way is up and which is down.

My face is just as bad as I expected. Blotchy skin. Swollen eyes. A black tear tracks down my cheeks. I carefully remove the makeup and spend a few minutes with a cold washcloth over my face. It won’t help all that much, but at this point, something is better than nothing. I hardly look like the seductress who started this weekend; more like a scared mess of a woman who doesn’t know what Monday will bring.

I debate putting on more makeup, but it won’t do much good until my skin calms down, and I don’t think Shane is going to let me hide up here for over an hour until that happens. I press my hands to my eyes and take a deep breath. I can do this. He’s seen me without makeup more often than he’s seen me with a full face of it on. I was hardly worried on long pool days when my hair was stiff with chlorine and my nose was sunburned from taking too long to reapply sunscreen.

I also didn’t know what Shane’s cock tasted like on those days.

Or have a plug in my ass that he put there.

I take a deep breath, smooth down my skirt, and give my hair a toss. That will have to do.