Page 59 of His Surrender

I shrug out of my sweater and toss it toward the chair in the corner. It misses completely, but I don’t bother picking it up.

The room suddenly feels too warm.

I pace once across the bedroom before stopping in front of the windows overlooking Manhattan.

My reflection stares back at me.

“You’ve lost your mind.”

Because I have.

The image of Aubrey standing in her bedroom refuses to leave me alone. The surprised look in her eyes when she realized I’d walked in.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

She trusted me enough to take this job, to live under my roof. She’s taking care of my daughter.

The last thing she needs is me looking at her the way I did.

I sink onto the edge of the bed and stare at the hardwood floor.

I’ve never felt this crazed over a woman.

After my mom died, keeping people at arm’s length became second nature.

Work was simpler. Predictable.

People couldn’t leave if you never let them get close enough to matter.

Then Liana happened … and now Aubrey.

Now, somehow, both of them have worked their way past defenses I spent half my life building.

I replace my jeans with sweatpants, then sit down on my bed, settling back against the headboard. I pull one knee up as I scrub a hand over my face.

My dick throbs in my sweatpants.

It’s been months since I’ve come. With mounting guilt, I reach inside of the material and pull out my dick. I need this. Maybe I’ll actually get some good sleep if I can just get this release.

I begin to move my hand up and down with a tight, angry grip. When I close my eyes, it’s Aubrey I see. Standing in her room with that pink bathing suit that barely covered her tits.

Just the idea of her wearing that in public has me stroking myself harder.

I don’t know where this possession is coming from, but I’m powerless to stop it.

With each stroke, I erase any possibility of turning back from this attraction, eventually coming all over my stomach with a deep, guttural groan.

After I clean myself up, I lie in bed, feeling a mix of relief and fear. Something is taking over me that I’m afraid will result in me losing control and doing what I know I shouldn’t.

Liana’s cry cuts through the silence of my bedroom.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling for a moment before rubbing both hands over my face.

I’m exhausted.

Not because Liana kept me up. She actually slept better than she had in weeks.

The problem was me. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind wandered somewhere it had no business going.