CHAPTER EIGHT

Skylar

The delicious feeling of sexual satiation filled her whole body.

That’s how sex is supposed to be.

Riggs had left shortly after sunrise, but not before an extra-long kiss, and nip on her lip. Clearly hungry for next time.

Now, she stretched out on her sheets and relished her aching muscles.

Her phone chimed with her sister’s ringtone again.

“Still alive, Wren,’ she answered.

“I only have a few minutes before my next customer. But I have to know how the dates went. Spill.”

“Great. He wants to see me again.”

“I’m sure. You sound like you’ve been misbehaving in the most pleasurable ways. Good for you.”

Heat caressed her cheeks. There was no point in denying it.

“I’m so proud of you for going through with it,” Wren continued. “I paid for the best, just for you.”

Her smile slipped. “Paid?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know?”

A terrifying pause made the room spin over her head.

“He didn’t tell you?” her sister asked.

“Tell me what?”

“Jesus, Sky…I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“You hired him?”

“He’s an escort. Well, a Knight. Higher end.”

Skylar’s heart cinched in on itself, and she wanted to crawl under the covers. “It wasn’t real?”

“I wanted you to celebrate your new job, your new life and independence, and be safe while doing it. I thought you knew, Sky.”

“What exactly did you pay for?”

“Three dates. To show you around and make sure you had a good time.”

She cringed and buried her face in her hand. Three dates. The comedy club, the barbecue cook off, and the romp in her bedroom. “How much?”

Her sister told her the amount.

Skylar nearly choked on the vomit climbing up her throat. “Holy fuck, Wren. How could you do that to me?”

“Sky, please, just—”

She hung up, and threw her cell to the end of the bed. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

Rage had consumed her only once in her life—two years before—and she hated feeling like that.

Betrayed by her sister.

And that Casanova.

He knew I didn’t know. The whole time!

“Oh, hell no!” Skylar grappled for her phone, and found Riggs’ number in her contacts. As it rang, she had no idea which words would fly out of her mouth. A million garbled together in her mind.

The call went to his voicemail.

She hung up.

What the hell do I say?

Calling the prick would only confirm he’d gotten into her head. If the whole thing was just a business arrangement, then she should leave it there.

The man had performed his job well. Exceptionally. Given her the most intense orgasms of her life. The only ones, actually. And she’d had a great time.

Chalk one up to the expert.

She tossed the phone back on the bed. Focused on getting her breathing back to normal.

A few texts chimed through from her sister.

No doubt an apology or some excuse defending her actions.

Skylar didn’t want to hear a word.

That was the last time she’d ever accept a favor or gift from Wren. She wouldn’t be calling her back for a long long time.

She certainly wouldn’t ever see Riggs again. Not unless he wanted a hemostat up his ass.