Reasonable Doubt: Volume 2 (Reasonable Doubt #2)
Reasonable Doubt: Volume 2 (Reasonable Doubt #2) Page 8
Reasonable Doubt: Volume 2 (Reasonable Doubt #2) Page 8
“Now.”
He smiled at me, looking as if he wanted to say something smart, but he leaned over and reached into his nightstand for a condom.
He quickly slipped it on and entered me in one full stroke, causing me to moan in pleasure.
“Ahhhh...” I reached up and grabbed his hair as his c**k pounded into me relentlessly. I was sure I’d never get tired of him f**king me, each time was better than the last.
I shut my eyes as he buried his head in my neck, as he whispered how “fucking good” I felt. Small tremors started building inside of me, and as much as I wanted this to last a little longer, I wouldn’t be able to hold on.
“Andrewww...” I said his name as my hips started to jerk and my orgasm took over me. I screamed, falling back onto the pillows, and he collapsed on top of me seconds later.
We both lay there, entwined in each other for a long time—not saying a word. When I finally found the energy to speak, I cleared my throat. “Are you going to sleep inside of me all night?”
“Of course not.” He pulled out of me, immediately making me miss the feel of him. He walked over to his closet, tossing the condom away.
“What are you doing?” I sat up.
“Getting dressed.”
“For what?”
“So I can take you home.” He slipped into a pair of pants. “And so I can go to sleep.” He put on a shirt, and then he looked over at me. “How long do you think it’ll take you to get ready?”
“I don’t want you to take me home.” I shook my head. “I want to stay.”
“Here?” he looked utterly confused.
“Yes, here.”
“As in overnight?”
I nodded, and he stood there staring at me as if I’d just asked him to do the unthinkable. The look he was giving me was one of anguish, regret, and for a second I almost felt bad about suggesting it.
“Aubrey, I don’t...” He sighed. “I’ve never let someone spend the night.”
“Then let me be your first...”
He continued staring at me, tapping his chin, and then he walked over to his closet and grabbed a set of white pajamas.
“You can sleep in these...” He held them out for me.
I reached out to take them but he shook his head.
“Stand up.”
I slid off the bed and stood in front of him.
He took his time helping me into the button up shirt—kissing every inch of my exposed skin until he reached the top button, and when he was finished he kissed my lips.
I expected him to hold out the pants next, but he tossed them across the room. “Get in the bed.”
Smiling, I slipped underneath the sheets as he hit the lights.
He joined me in bed seconds later, pulling me against his chest.
“Are you happy?” he whispered.
“Yes...”
“Are you sure? Is there anything else outside of my comfort zone that you’d like me to do for you tonight?”
“Not tonight, but you could make me breakfast in the morning.”
“You’re pushing it...”
“Just in case you change your mind, I would like Belgian waffles, bacon, sliced strawberries, and orange juice.”
“Unless you want to eat all of those things off of my cock, it’s not happening.” He pinched my ass. “Go to sleep, Aubrey.”
In the morning, I opened my eyes and realized I was alone in Andrew’s bed. I looked over at where he’d been sleeping and spotted a note on GBH stationery:
Had to run to the office to meet a new client. I’ll be back to take you home.
PS—Feel free to take your panty collection home with you.
—Andrew
I slipped out of bed, ready to explore more of his condo, but there was a sudden loud knock at the door. I rushed over and twisted the knob, expecting to see Andrew, but it was a man dressed in all black.
“Um hello?” I tried not to look too confused.
“Are you Aubrey Everhart?”
“Yes...”
“Great.” He handed me a white bag. “Gourmet waffles, bacon, sliced strawberries, and orange juice, right?”
Denial (n.):
A statement in the defendant’s answer to a complaint in a lawsuit than an allegation (claim of fact) is not true.
A few days later...
Andrew
I was officially out of my damn mind.
I was in my bathtub, and Aubrey was sitting on top of me—panting as she came down from another orgasm.
She was spending the night at my condo for the third time this week, and it was pointless to even pretend like I minded.
I wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but she’d definitely gotten to me. She was infiltrating my every thought, and no matter what I did to try and come back to my senses—to remind myself that this could only be temporary, she slipped deeper into my life.
“Why are you so quiet tonight?” she asked.
“I’m not allowed to think?”
“Not when a naked woman is in your lap.”
“I was giving her a chance to relax.” I slid my hands underneath her thighs. “What unnecessary bullshit do you want to talk about today?”
“It’s not unnecessary,” she said. “It’s about your family.”
“What about my family?”
“Are they still in New York?”
I prevented myself from clenching my jaw. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” She raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean you don’t know? Are you estranged from them?”
“No...” I sighed. “I just don’t have any parents.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Then why do I remember you telling me a story about your mom the first month that we met?”
“What story?”
“The story about Central Park and ice cream.” She looked into my eyes, as if she were expecting me to say something. “You said she took you to some children’s fair, I think? It was something that happened every Saturday. But the one you remembered most happened when it was raining and she still took you, and you stood in line for an hour just to get a scoop of vanilla.”
I blinked.
“Is that story not right? Am I mixing it up with something else?”
“No,” I said. “That’s right...But I haven’t seen her since.”
“Oh...” She looked down. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I trailed a finger across her lips. “I turned out just fine.”
“Can I ask you a few more things?”
“You have a daily question quota starting today.”
She rolled her eyes. “What do all the “E” and “H” pictures in your hallway stand for?”
I felt a sudden ache in my chest. “Nothing.”
“If you hate New York so much and you don’t like talking about your past or what you lost six years ago, why do you have so many mementos hanging on your walls?”
“Aubrey...”
“Okay, forget that question. And the Latin quote across your heart? What does it mean?”
“Lie about one thing, lie about it all...” I kissed her lips before she could ask me anything else. I was starting to wonder why she hadn’t wanted to be a damn journalist instead of a ballerina.
“It’s your turn,” she said softly. “You can ask me questions now.”
“I’d rather f**k you again.” I lifted her with me as I stood up and helped her out of the bath tub.
We both dried off and went into my bedroom. Just as I was pulling her against me, my doorbell rang.
I sighed. “Dinner’s early.” I slipped into a pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt and headed to the door with my credit card.
The second I opened it, I was confronted with the sight of the last person on earth I wanted to see. Ava.
“Don’t you dare f**king slam it on me this time,” she hissed. “We need to talk.”
“We don’t need to talk about shit.” I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not wanted here?’
“As many times as it’ll take you to actually believe it, which you don’t.” She scoffed. “Ask me why I came to Durham to see you, Mr. Hamilton. Appease me and I’ll finally go the hell away.”
“You’re going the hell away regardless,” I said flatly. “I really don’t give a f**k why you came here.”
“Not even if it’s to sign the divorce papers?”
“You could’ve sent that shit in the mail.” I gritted my teeth. “And since I’m sure you’re running out of loopholes for contesting it, I’m willing to wait until all your options run out. I’m sure your lawyers will drop you as soon as they find out what type of client you are.”
“All I’m asking for is ten thousand a month.”
“Go ask the man who was f**king you in our bedroom while I was at work.” I glared at her, livid. “Or better yet, ask the judge you only “fucked for a favor,” or hey, if you’re up to it, f**k my former best friend. Sleeping with him always seemed to make you feel better, right?”
“You weren’t Mr. Perfect either.”
“I never f**king cheated on you, and I never lied to you.”
Silence.
“Five thousand a month,” she said.
“Go f**k yourself, Ava.”
“You know I never give up,” she said, her eyes widened as I stepped back inside my apartment. “I always get what I want.”
“So do I.” I slammed the door in her face, feeling my heart palpitating, feeling the onset of ugly memories all over again.
Rain. New York. Heartbreak.
Complete and utter heartbreak.
Seeing Ava in person again—hearing her manipulative voice and feeling those familiar pangs in my chest, immediately made me realize that I couldn’t make the same mistake again.
Aubrey was already asking questions, trying to dig her way into my life as much as she could—thinking that if she stayed around long enough that we would work out together. But I knew that would never happen, not after seeing Ava and knowing just how far she would go to ruin me all over again.
I was officially done with this monogamous game we’d been playing for the past couple weeks. It was quite fun—different, but since Aubrey could never be mine and I could never be hers, it was quite f**king pointless too.
I headed back into my bedroom and saw Aubrey smiling as she settled into the bed.
“Where’s the dinner?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. “Did you leave it at the door?”
“No.” I shook my head and started packing up her things, stuffing them all into her purse.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You can’t stay the night.”
“Okay...” She stood up. “Did something just happen? Do you want to talk about—”
“I don’t want to talk about anything else with you.” I hissed. “I just want to take you the hell home.”
“What?” She looked confused. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you—”
“Make sure you get all of your shit out of my bathroom. You won’t be coming back here again.”
“Why not?”
“Because I need to start f**king someone else.” I picked up her headband. “I think I’ve spent more than enough time with you, don’t you think?”
“Andrew...” Her face fell. “Where is all of this coming from?”
“The same place it was always coming from. You lied to me once, you’ll lie to me again.”
“I thought we were over that.”
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