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“So?” I ask with a smile.

He shrugs, walking over to me. I pour him a shot. “May your laugh, your love, and your wine be plenty.”

“Ditto,” I reply. We clink glasses and down the drink.

He smiles. “You a little drunk?”

“Just a little,” I say with a grin.

He looks over my face in a loving way.

“Kiss me,” I say. And he does and I make it deeper. I grasp his neck and pull him to me, rougher than normal.

He moans into my mouth. “You are a little drunk,” he says. I bite my lip.

Moving away from him, I walk over to the dining room table and lift myself onto it. I spread my thighs. He watches. I lift my dress. He swallows. Samuel walks over to me, and then he sinks to his knees. The touch of his tongue against my clit sends a shock to my system. I gasp, grabbing his hair.

He kisses and sucks and fingers me until I come, and then he stands up. Removing his cock, he slowly slides in, but I need it rough. I need…Danny.

I push him away. “Get on the floor,” I say.

“Wouldn’t the couch be better?”

I shake my head. He does as I ask, and I climb on top of him with my face toward his feet. I reach down and slide him inside of me and he flexes up. I cry out in a moan laced with pleasure. He grips onto my hips and I move with him. My knees dig into the hard floor as I hold on to his thighs.

“Look back at me,” he says, but I can’t. My eyes are shut. I’m thinking of Danny’s finger on my thigh. The smell of his cologne. I rock harder, faster, until sweat is dripping down my back. I feel the rush of my orgasm building, ready to crumble.

“Bexley.” He stops. My eyes fly open and I look back. He moves, causing me to get off. “I don’t want to do it like this.”

“Why?” I ask. “I was about to come.”

“We never do it like this.”

“So, what’s wrong with doing something different?”

“Nothing,” he says. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. Let me make love to you.”

I roll my eyes, frustration warming my chest. “I don’t want to make love, Samuel. I want to fuck. I want raw, hard fucking.”

He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “What’s gotten into you?”

I exhale and shake my head. “Nothing. Let’s just forget it.” I walk away from him and run up the stairs.

“Bexley,” I hear, but I ignore him, shutting the door in our bedroom. I walk over to the dresser, grab my vibrator, and lock the bathroom door behind me. I strip, turn on the shower, and fuck myself, thinking about Danny until I come with his name rushing from my lips.

And then I cry.

“I will fix this. You’re safe with me,” Danny says, yanking me from years ago.

I wipe at the tears on my face, angry at my thoughts.“I’m no safer with you than I am with the devil,” I reply, not looking at him, and we say nothing else.

Chapter Forty-Five

Bexley

2019

“Where are we going?” I ask Danny when we get back to his bar.