Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

European cars hide it really well.”
St. Carmen looks good. I look good. And people judge you differently
when your lawn is manicured. When you shop at the best stores. When
you’re picked up in Town Cars.
“But we’re still dogs,” I murmur.
He moves his hand on my waist, circling his arm around me, and pulls me
into him. I stop breathing. He holds me tight against his chest, his breath on
my forehead. “That’s why I don’t get tired of your shit,” he whispers down
on me. “Or of never getting any reciprocation from you.”
I grip his shoulders, about to push away as we stop dancing.
“You’re afraid of the dirt, but you know it’s there.” His mouth trails a line
across my temple. “And when you get it all over you, Clay, I want to be
there.”
I gaze into his eyes, finally seeing something in him I didn’t before. I
haven’t been in as much control as I thought.
And I’m not completely unexcited by that prospect.
He picks me up, cocking his head and surveying me like a snake. “Who’s
giving it to you?” he asks. “I know you’re not a virgin anymore, and I know
it was recently.”
Instead of getting nervous, though, I smile. It’s nice not to have the hard
discussions. I’m glad he knows.
“I won’t tell,” he whispers. “I just want to hear about it. Where does he
do it to you at?”
She does it to me in secret.
“In a car?” he presses. “In a cheap motel? One of the Jaeger boys,
maybe?”
I warm between my thighs, thinking about the Jaeger girl and how much
more I want to touch her. He’s got the wrong details, but he’s on the right
path.
“I’m not jealous,” he assures before a gleam hits his eyes. “I’m hard.”
I don’t feel it, but I take his word for it. I try to push out of his hold, not
liking the weight of hanging from his arms. A reminder that he can always
overpower me.
“I’ll keep your secrets,” he says. “You keep mine, and what a team we’ll
be.”
I study him, kind of hating him for trying to make this so easy on me.
Like my grandmother, he’s absolutely fine with me having everything I want