“You’re going to sleep for fifteen hours?”
“It’s only fair, considering I was robbed of my apology cupcakes.”
He chuckled. “They’re in the kitchen. I’ll go get some and come right back.”
“It’s too late for that,” she whispered wretchedly. “Now the only thing you can do is be a good boy and pretend you’re a memory foam pillow.”
“A good boy, huh?” He swatted her ass hard, and she yelped. The unexpected sting made her ass tingle, and that feeling spread to her pussy even though she was too sore to want another round.
“I can’t be blamed. It’s the orgasm talking.” She kissed his chest, enjoying the masculine scent of him, and the feel of him under her lips.
“That orgasm is asking for a spanking.”
She groaned. “It’s a very contrite orgasm. The contrite-est.”
His chuckle shook her, and she smiled against his shoulder. It had been ages since she’d felt she could be silly around someone, and she loved that he found it amusing instead of stupid. There was something to be said for a guy who had a sense of humor.
“Mila.”
“Yes?”
“No matter what you think we have to discuss, we can figure it out.”
Guilt tried to steal the moment from her, but she pushed it away. His arms around her felt too perfect, and she didn’t want to talk about this now—especially since he had no idea what she was referring to. Maybe from his perspective things didn’t seem insurmountable, but when he found out what a liar she’d been, he’d probably chew his arm off to get away from her.
It was selfish, but for now she wanted to keep him in the dark.
Tonight was too good to ruin.
***
The quiet was punctuated by a low voice in the distance. Mila blinked a few times to orient herself to the dark. The glow of a phone paced on the other side of the room. She shifted in the bed, her body sore and used.
Atlas’s voice dropped and she saw him turn away from her, his broad back silhouetted by the spotlight outside the window. A warm feeling grew in her chest and a sense of peace floated over her, cocooning her as much as the blankets did. She felt as if she could lie there forever, safe and sated.
“Yeah,” he said, louder now. “All right. I’ll be there in ten.”
Disappointment flared. He was leaving?
She started to sit up, but an instant later, Atlas was leaning over her.
“What’s going on?” she asked him, her voice raspy.
“Work emergency,” he muttered then kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Go back to sleep.”
“Work emergency?” She turned her head to check the clock. It was three in the morning. What the hel
l kind of computer emergency happened in the middle of the night?
“It’s hard to explain.” He kissed her lips this time. “I’ll be back before morning. I promise.”
“I’ll go with you.” When she struggled to get up, he pinned her down.
“No. Confidentiality issues. And you have work tomorrow so you need your rest.”
Something wasn’t adding up. But he seemed dead set on not letting her go, which only made her more suspicious. As if on instinct, the detective part of her brain kicked into gear. He was hiding something, and she’d be damned if she just rolled over and went back to sleep.
With a fake smile, she said, “Okay. I’ll see you later, I guess.”