and walked back
towards the window, turning away from her and looking outside.
“I suppose we disagree,” she told him,
feigning indifference, but his comment had penetrated her defenses with
pinpoint accuracy.
She didn’t know enough about either sex
or love to truly know what was cheap and what was the genuine article.
“I think,” he said, “that this interview
has now reached a conclusion.”
She sat there for a second, wishing she
could somehow salvage things. She’d
needed this job, needed it badly.
But somehow everything had just unraveled
from the very first moment and there was no way to change any of it.
***
It was only when Lanie had gotten on the
T and returned back to her empty apartment that she felt the full effect of
this failure.
She curled up in her bed and began
crying, and wishing she’d never taken this apartment or the stupid job
interview or any of it.
All she’d done was confirm what she
already knew to be true about herself .
People
just don’t like me. Let’s face
it—there’s a reason why Ivy found Cullen and he married her and gave her
the life that every woman dreams of.
Because
Ivy is smart and pretty and confident and people just love her.
But
not me. I turn people off. I make
them angry.
She sobbed into her pillow and wished
there was someone to sit on the bed beside her, rub her back and tell her
everything would be okay.
***
Later, she was soaking in the bathtub,
replaying the interview over and over again in her mind.
Her skin was soft and the water was warm,
lapping at her thighs.
She had placed her phone next to her on
the edge of the tub, and she pushed it away from the inside of the rim, not
wanting it to slide off and into the water.
The last thing she could afford now was
to have to buy a new cell phone.
Lanie closed her eyes and imagined
Brayden’s face, his wicked stare, the way he’d looked at her. It wasn’t that big of a stretch to
imagine those eyes being full of passion for her. Burning for her and her alone, and as
she thought about it, her hand strayed between her legs and began to feel her
fleshy mound that quivered with desire.
“Oh God, Brayden. Yes. Fuck me. Just like that,” she said, moaning as
she imagined what it might be like.
She remembered the way just his hand had
felt enveloping hers—and that heat.
Oh, that heat.
“I’m so wet for you, Brayden. Your cock is so big. It’s fucking me so good.”
She’d never actually had sex before, but
it didn’t seem so impossible to imagine it at that moment.
Even imagining “cheap sex” didn’t seem so
bad, as long as she was doing it with Brayden, feeling his hard body, seeing
his eyes, feeling his tongue in her mouth.
“Brayden, I’m going to come,” she cried,
and then the orgasm was hitting her.
A small sound distracted her as she was
climaxing.
Was that the radio? Had she somehow started playing a clip
on YouTube?
Lanie sat up in the tub, and reached over
to grab her cell phone.
Oh,
no.
Oh,
God, no.
She stared in horror at the screen of her
cell phone.
There was a call in progress, and the
number showing was Brayden Forman’s number. The voice was his.
“Hello?” she heard him say, his voice
slightly tinny from a distance. “Is
this a joke, Lanie?”
She hung up the phone and sat there,
stunned.
Her humiliation was now complete.
She’d just accidentally called Brayden
Forman and masturbated to completion while he’d listened on the other end of the
line.
Don’t
forget that you were screaming his name.
Lanie sank down in the tub and prayed for
oblivion. Unfortunately, she knew
that her memory of this disaster was not likely to go away anytime soon.
And the worst part of it all?
He knew.
Brayden Forman knew how she felt about
him.
THE
END OF CHERISH (THE BILLIONAIRE’S RULES, BOOK 12)
Thank you so much for taking the journey
with Cullen and Ivy, and I do