Shaggin’ Catherine was fucking amazing. I couldn’t get enough of her. Except that she’d fallen asleep not long after the third time and now I was ready for more. I untangled myself from her slumbering body, and looked down at her, and what a sight she was. Moonlight threw shadows over her body as she lay spread out on the bed like a fuckin’ beautiful angel.

Everything about Catherine was different than the chicks I was used to waking up next to. She was a woman. She was sure of herself and strong. I was shocked she was allowing me to put my cock anywhere near her, in fact. I didn’t deserve a woman like this in my life. She didn’t deserve a disaster like me in hers.

But here we were. And there she was lying there like a fuckin’ beautiful painting. She looked almost as good as she’d felt, and as I stood over her, watching her sleeping so peacefully, I knew I’d want to remember this moment forever. I took a mental picture, then remembered that damned cell phone that Ian forced me to carry had a camera on it. A real picture would be even better.

I dug through my jeans for my phone, but couldn’t find it. I walked out into the living room of the suite and spotted Catherine’s purse lying on the table, her phone falling out of it. Mine was nowhere in sight, so I grabbed hers to take a picture of her. I’d have her send it to me later.

I walked back into the bedroom, and couldn’t help but smile down at her. She was out like a light, but who could blame her? I’d fucked her so hard, she definitely needed time to recover. God, it had been so fuckin’ good to sink into her, finally, to feel her squirming under my touch. But, more than the physical intensity, more than the fact that our bodies fit together like gloves, it felt good just to be near her, to talk to her. There was so much more to it than fucking, and it’d been a long time since my relationship with a woman was more than fucking. Not since Ally. And that was so long ago.

I pushed thoughts of Ally away, and focused on the beauty that lay sprawled out before me. My cock hardened as I watched her beautiful breasts rise and fall with her steady breathing. I pulled up the camera on her phone and focused in on her and snapped the picture. I took a few more, and then stopped to flip through them.

God, she was so fuckin’ beautiful, I couldn’t wait till she woke up and we could start all over again. We still had a few hours before we had to be back on the bus, and I was sure I could fuck her at least three more times before then. If only she’d wake up. Each time tonight had felt better than the last. I felt like we were really getting to know each other, and it felt good to be with someone that I knew I’d see again. In fact, it felt good to be with someone I trusted and liked enough to be able to let go and be myself for a little while, forget the ridiculous public persona I’d invented.

I froze when I flipped too far, sliding past the pictures I’d taken of her. There was a picture on her phone that was taken from far away, but the setting was unmistakable. I zoomed in on the picture and my heart sank.

The hospital. The park. The little boy I’d been reading to next to the pond. I couldn’t believe my bloody eyes!

Had she followed me? I’d told her there was no press allowed, and yet there was no other explanation. The picture was proof. She’d betrayed me.

For fuck’s sake, though, I thought, what did I expect? She’s a fuckin’ reporter. Of course, she’d betray me. I was a bloody fuckin’ idiot for trusting her in the first place!

I deleted the pictures I took of her, and put her phone back in her purse. I felt like an asshole. I’d slipped, and that’s what I got for it. That’s what I got for thinking anyone would be interested in me for me. She only wanted a good story. She didn’t give a shit about my privacy.

I cursed myself as I threw on my jeans. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen, and sat on the couch, leaving sleeping beauty in the bedroom.

There was only one person in the whole fuckin’ world I could trust, and I’d do damned well to remember that. Not Ian, not Matt, not Rhys or Rocket or Slade, and certainly not Catherine. That person was me.

I poured the whiskey down my throat and laid down on the couch. My eyes closed just as I vowed to myself to never slip up again.

It doesn’t matter that I was beginning to like her. It doesn’t matter that every time I see her my cock stands at attention. It didn’t matter that she was the most beautiful fuckin’ woman I’d ever seen, either.

I was always going to be me, and because of that, getting close to someone was out of the bloody question.