Page 71 of Villainous Summer

Over and over, I screamed for him, needing more and getting it, his stinging grip and slapping balls against my ass.

As the wave crested, it was with the scream Van promised he’d get from me. Van’s cry mimicked mine as he came after me, every muscle in his body taut.

When he collapsed on me, I laced my fingers in his damp hair, pulling him closer until our bodies were flush.

“I’m too heavy,” he murmured into the side of my neck.

“I can handle it.”

He lifted his head and slid off me, his hand splayed over my bare stomach. “I know you can. That’s what I like about you.”

I raked his scalp with my nails, and his eyes drifted closed. His breathing evened out the calm wheeze and soft whoosh of sleep.

In the waxing moonlight, he seemed younger.

With a single finger, I traced the length of his nose, his scruffy jawline, the line of his straight brow. It was a strong face. An honest one.

Of course, I thought the same about Cory, and how wrong was I?

This was all too real. Van had never been anything more than straight with me about what he wanted. Once again, it was my own impulsivity that led me here in his bedroom.

But I didn’t need to stay. To fall asleep beside him would only blur the lines he had so carefully set between us.

As quietly as possible, I climbed out of the king-size bed and grabbed my dress off the floor. Glancing around, I couldn’t find my underwear, but I wasn’t going to turn on a light to track that down.

My eyes caught on a pile of clean boxer briefs on top of his dresser. Those would do.

I pulled them on, and with one last glance at his sleeping form, I slipped out the door.

The next morning, I sat in a coffee shop. My conversations with Van had been scant, and I could tell he was getting frustrated with me not responding as much.

But I had to protect myself. If he knew how all I wanted was to call him or the way I had stopped at the bakery and stared at the cake we shared, wanting desperately to go back to that moment, he would be there beside me, expecting me to trust him with my heart, and that wasn’t worth the risk.

My preoccupation with him was taking over, and I couldn’t have that. It wasn’t fair to Van, who had given me nothing more than kindness and amazing orgasms. My heart couldn’t take another disappointment.

I had thirty minutes before I was expected at the hotel, but I left my apartment early to use the public Wi-Fi for the last of my plans.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t legal to get into Cory’s emails the way I had, but it was also extremely hard to prove in a court of law. I wasn’t altering anything besides a few forwards of incriminating info here and there. But every time I’d log in, I was pushing it.

Vowing that it would be my last time, I sipped my iced caramel Americano.

A few days before, I had compiled a zip drive of all the messages Cory sent Candy. Finding Kodi’s email was surprisingly easy.

She posted regularly on her website, where she sold custom tumblers with kitschy phrases on them like She’s a little sass and a bunch of badass and Might be coffee, might be vodka.

I sent a quick email, enquiring about her creating something for me, and she responded within twenty minutes.

Sending the zip drive through my fake email was far too easy. I hoped she wasn’t too devastated, but knowing the truth before the wedding was better because, according to Imogen, she hadn’t put down money for deposits yet.

Promising myself I’d only check his email one last time, I logged on to find a whole long conversation between him and another person describing how they had been fudging the numbers for a job, adding on a fake employee to pay themselves twice.

I forwarded the emails to my fake account and then deleted them from the sent folder, set on providing this info to the labor and industries, the IRS anonymous tip line, and the state patrol.

If what I saw was embezzling, he was sure to receive more than his share of punishment.

Maybe then I could move on. Maybe.

Van

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