Page 91 of Manhattan Secret

Shuddering orgasms out of me before 8 am.

And when he’s finished, when he crawls up my body, covering me completely, taking me hard and fast, holding me close afterwards, kissing me silly and then leaving me for dead. He lies down next to me, our pinky fingers entwined between us.

“I have to spend the day with my parents,” he relays quietly. “Dad’s family are piling over for a yard cookout.”

I know what’s coming next the moment the silence fills the air and my heart beats rapidly that has nothing to do with our epic sex. “Why don’t you come with me, Laney?”

“Lachlan…”

“That’s always your reply when I ask. My name isn’t an answer. Come with me, meet everyone. That way I know you’re gonna be okay and have someone to turn to while I’m in Boston.”

Oh, god. He wants his family to look out for me.

“I’m fine, Lachie, I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

Wrong thing to say, because he flips over onto his side, almost looming over me and his eyes, passion filled a moment ago, now stormy and heavy lidded. “You don’t get it—but I take care of you, Laney. Me. My job.”

My heart is not equipped for this kind of man.

He’s making me fall harder and faster without my consent.

I’ve stupidly gone into this… affair? Summer fling? Whatever we categorize it as, thinking I won’t get hurt. That by the end I will be happy it even happened. But all I can think about is the pain I’ll feel when he leaves in two days.

“Why so quiet, mouse?” Fingers that feel soft journey under my bangs, pushing them aside. Lachie is tactile. A hand on my hip if he stands behind me. An arm slung over my shoulder. Kisses dropped to my forehead. He can seriously make me lose my head over him.

Oh, who am I kidding here?

I was lost to Lachlan Fierro the moment he led me into that bathroom stall.

“I’m thinking.”

“Of me?” Usually this kind of question would be accompanied by his smirk.

This time he’s serious face.

A touch vulnerable which is not like Lachlan at all ... and Iache.

“Kind of always, yeah.” He rewards me with a sleepy, slow-growing smile he teams with a soft kiss pressed to my closed mouth. “I’m worried this thing with Riley isn’t the end.”

He instantly sobers, curling his lip as he moves over to his back, one hand behind his head, the other resting on his lower stomach.

He makes such a sight, I want to mentally snap as many pictures of him as I can, and I suddenly realize I have zero photos of Lachlan at all.

And none of us together.

“I took care of it.”

“I know you did, but teen girls in love rarely think logically when they’ve been spurned.”

He scoffs, rubbing a hand over his eyes then over his hair. It isn’t long at all, barely a few inches but it ruffles at the edges and makes him look twice as fuckable. I can’t help myself. I lean over the bed and grab my phone, snapping off a few head shots of him and a couple with his bare chest in frame.

Then I cuddle into his arm.

“She’s not in love with me.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jealous, mouse?”

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