Sexy Mother Faker (Hot Maine Men Book 2) by Remy Rose

Author:Remy Rose [Rose, Remy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B077TNZSYK
Published: 2017-11-29T05:00:00+00:00

chapter 20 / Delaney

I am in deep shit.

I know this because even though rationally, I should be keeping my distance from Damon and just fulfilling the terms of the contract, I’m doing exactly the opposite—getting closer. Letting him in. Physically, and emotionally, to the point where it’s actually crossed my mind to tell him about my past and how it’s affected my getting intimate with anyone. Am I simply ready to talk about it, or is it that I’m ready to talk about it with him? I can’t deny that a driving force is wanting to free myself so that I can be with him, completely—feel him inside me. It’s all I’ve been thinking about. My Kindle full of romances has proven woefully inadequate, because once you have a taste of the real thing, fantasy men can’t hold a candle.

Candle—>phallic symbol—>Damon.

Like I said, deep shit.

After our lunch yesterday, I kept thinking about how I agreed to let him stay with me and have been questioning my decision. I was so distracted at work today that I forgot to make coffee when I arrived (a cardinal sin at Precision Machine), I transferred a call to Stu that was supposed to go to Lou, and I forgot to attach a quote to an email I sent. My bosses were already irritated with me, so what better time to give my two-week notice? I printed out my letter of resignation and left it on Stu’s desk before beelining it out of there.

On the way home, I had a sudden urge to go to the Humane Society and see if I could get Tucker for a Dog’s Day Out. I thought it would be fun to surprise Damon when he came over tonight, especially where he isn’t going to be around this weekend to visit Tucker. I went to the dog kennels and was greeted by a very raucous group of canines—mostly pit bulls and Lab mixes—but no Tucker. I asked at the front desk about him, and the girl said he’d been adopted. I left feeling so glad for that absolute love of a dog, along with a selfish twinge of sadness that I wouldn’t be able to see him again. As nonsensical as it sounds, it felt like he knew he was home in my apartment last weekend. It felt right to me, too.

Just like Damon felt right.

Oh, I’m in such trouble.

I’m excited about having him stay here, but there’s a thick layer of apprehension swirled in, too. I haven’t had a man stay the night in five years. I’ve tried not to dwell on that and attempted to focus on my yoga workout, cleaning the bathroom, unlocking the ground-level door and putting a pillow, sheet and blanket on the couch.

Just to make it perfectly clear—to both of us—where he’s going to be sleeping.

Damon texted me earlier about picking up Chinese. I’m setting out plates and glasses for us when I hear a knock. I open the door, and there he is

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