Page 96 of Words We Didn't Say

“Iloveparties,” I said. “This is no party.”

“There’s food and booze and way too many people. It’s a party.”

“That’s also the perfect description for a wake, which, by the way, would still have more life in it than this shitshow.”

“The venue’s good, though, right?” Zach didn’t sound convinced.

I rolled my eyes, lowering my voice to imitate one of his greige colleagues. “Oh, look at me,” I crooned. “I’m a rich, fancy lawyer in a fancy yacht club. Listen to me talk about boring paperwork and my new sports car because I’m overcompensating for having no personality.”

“The truth’s out, huh?” Zach smirked. “That’s what you think about me?”

“Nah.” I kissed his stubbly jaw. “You don’t drive a sports car.”

He laughed. “I promise we don’t have to stay much longer.”

“Just here for appearances?”

Zach dipped his chin in a solemn nod. “The partners are meeting tomorrow.”

“Almost there.”

“Almost.” His nose found its favourite spot under my ear, and the warm, minty press of his lips landed there next. He responded to my shiver with a sigh. “I can think of a thousand things I’d rather be doing right now.”

“Are we naked in any of them?”

“Behave, Eden.”

I pouted. “Make me.”

Zach’s cheeks turned pink, his expression shy as his finger drifted along the lacy seam hidden under my dress. A spark zipped up my spine, and I squeezed my thighs together. This naughty game was more fun than the party. Was Zach remembering, too? Before the party, when he’d bent me over his sofa, slipped down my knickers, and fucked me so rough and so good I’d sobbed into the cushions? After that, when he’d gentlydabbed me clean and glided my knickers back up my legs as if nothing had happened?

“Later,” he said.

“Tease,” I huffed. “If we’re not playing our naughty game, I’m going to dash to the ladies and freshen up.” I smoothed my hair. “I don’t want to be all messy when the cameras come out for the cake cutting.”

“I prefer you messy.” Zach bent down and guided me into a long kiss too intimate for his boss’s birthday party.

“That wasn’t fair,” I whispered against his lips.

He eased back, drooping eyes barely there behind fogged glasses. “All’s fair in love and…schemes…”

I laughed, and he sent me on my way with a party-appropriate squeeze of my booty.

He should’ve sent me with a packed lunchbox and a map.

The elusive sign for the bathroom led into a rabbit warren of confusing corridors and dead ends. I turned. Stopped. Turned again. Annoyed, I marched along the hardwood floors, clicking up a frenzy, finding nothing but blank white walls.

The hiss of a man’s voice stopped me. Old fears clawed around my lungs.

“—Don’t you dare embarrass me again—”

The unmistakable sound of a slap on skin. A gasp.

My hand flew over my mouth to cover the cry begging to escape. I crept along the corridor to where struggling shadows spilt around a corner.

“Do you hear me?”

A whimper.

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