Temptation [h.s.] ✔

Chapter 16.

        I get out of the car, figuring that I have half an hour on the treadmill before I have to leave for work. I change quickly and hit the second floor, grabbing a machine. I start up my iPod and put the earbuds in my ears. Waves by Mr. Probz blasts into my ears, and I'm drawn to the lyrics.

        Because I am drifting away. Slowly, but I'm drifting. Every line, every word, is so right.

        My mind focuses back on last night as I increase the incline on the treadmill. I wish I could define whatever it is between us. It's not quite no-strings and not quite dating. It's an odd concept, hanging suspended in limbo. I wish I could put my finger on it. I wish I could figure out what makes a few strings with Harry okay despite the obvious risks.

        A sex addict and a love addict together is a preposterous idea. It's pure stupidity. Idiocy.

        Fucked up.

        It can only end in one way—and I'm not talking about an orgasm. Heartbreak.

        I told Harry that I'm trusting him. If only I knew what I was trusting him with. My heart? My body? My desires?

        I know the last two are definitely true. I trust him with my body and my desires. I trust him to not abuse them, but instead to take them and spin them into pleasure. And he is sure as hell doing that.

        In the several times we've been together now, we've only stretched the boundaries once.

        Both of us, I know, have more things we want to try. Both of us have ideas and dreams and wishes for what we can do...together.

        Just like he said, we're perfect together in the bedroom. We're magic, completely in tune.

        The music in my ears switches to my alarm and I slow my speed until I stop. I have no time to shower, so back in the dressing room, I douse myself in spray and dig my work clothes out from my bag. Black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved shirt—with a low neckline.

        I squirm into the clothes and drive toward the bar. I glance through the back window, and it's completely dead. I'm supposed to finish at nine tonight, and my body tingles just thinking about it.

        I join Rosie at the bar. She's on the long shift today, starting at one and finishing at midnight.

        I look around the nearly dead bar and raise my eyebrows.

        "Really? They need two of us for this?"

        "Right?" she replies, sighing. "This is going to be a boring shift."

        +

        We spoke too soon.

        Our first few hours were quiet. It picked up a bit around dinner but then dropped off. We thought we were getting it easy until bam. A fifty-strong bachelorette party strolled through the door. Since then, a twenty-strong bachelor party has joined them. Not connected—we checked.

        They're splitting their time between us and the cocktail bar upstairs. Unfortunately, they seem to like the louder music and space to dance down here because they're drinking us out of white wine.

        I pour four glasses and add them to the tab before I turn and pour three beers straight off.

        Rosie is the same at the other end. Both parties have mixed and no one seems to care anymore. In fact, I think a bridesmaid and an usher are making out in the corner.