Fear of Falling by S.L. Jennings

Author:S.L. Jennings
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

“Oh my God, you dirty little slut! You did it, didn’t you? You totally did it!”

I kicked off my shoes and stowed them in my closet before lying back on my bed. “Did what?” I huffed.

Angel put a hand on her narrow hip and slid next to me. Then she bent over and sniffed me. She fucking sniffed me like a dog.

“Ewww, what the hell are you doing?” I yelped, scrambling away from her curious nose.

“You had sex! I can smell it on you! You fucked Blaine last night when you swore up and down that you wouldn’t!” With a goofy grin, she bounded from the bed and stuck her head out my bedroom door. “Dom! Wipe the coochie crumbs from your chin, and get in here! I won, fucker! You owe me fifty bucks!”

Won? What the hell?

“Angel, it’s not what you think,” I tried to explain. But before I could come up with a believable story, Dom swaggered in, wearing nothing but tight, black boxer briefs, his muscled, tan body looking as amazing as ever. But he wasn’t Blaine. No one had a body like Blaine. Or hands. Or a tongue…

Shit.

Dom settled beside me just as Angel hopped on my other side, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Kam, please tell me you didn’t do it. I thought we had an understanding, woman! I was gonna split my winnings!”

“Oh, Kami wants the D, Kami wants the D, ohhhh, Kami wants Blaine’s big nasty D,” Angel sang sweetly.

I shoved Angel’s arm off me. “No, Kami does not want the D.” (Yes, she did.) “And, no, I did not have sex with Blaine!” (But I wanted to.)

“See! I told you; I know my girl!” Dom exclaimed before kissing the side of my face. “Not everyone is totally slut-tastic like you, Angel.”

“Pffft. Yes they are,” Angel retorted, twirling a lock of blonde hair. “They are just too scared to admit it.”

“I need to get ready for work,” I said, climbing to my feet in an attempt to avoid questioning.

“Not so fast,” Angel called out before I could make my escape. “I know something went down last night, Kam. You’re practically glowing, and you look like you’ve had a 24-hour full body massage. And you look less… stick-up-the-ass-ish.”

“Stick-up-the-ass-ish? Seriously? Since when do I look like I have a stick up my ass?” I scowled.

“Whenever you’re not getting a stick up your ass,” she smiled. “Which is, like, never. I think I’ve had more dicks than you, and I’m allergic to them.”

I rolled my eyes at my friend and her colorful language before turning to my closet to retrieve a clean Dive tee and a pair of jeans. Then I spotted my favorite denim skirt hanging up nearby. Oh, what the hell. I slipped it off its hanger and stowed the jeans. Blaine never said it was against the dress code policy. And Mick so rarely poked his head out of the office when he was actually there. Plus, Sundays were slow, relaxed days. A little…distraction…never hurt anyone.

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