Read Surrender for Free Online Page B

I don’t know how long I’m willing to go without fulfilling our needs. But I won’t screw this goddess in the front seat like she’s a nameless whore. Something about her drew me in the other night. I’m an asshole . Her eyes are wide with confusion, her lips swollen from my passionate kisses. Those perfectly shaped breasts heave every time she takes a breath.
    I cup her face between both hands. “Will you trust me?”
    Her hands slip up my waist, stopping on my chest. “With what?”
    “Time,” I say. And you . . .

Chapter Four
    My alarm clock blares as loudly as a tornado siren. I flip over and smack the snooze button. Ten minutes later, I do it again. I don’t want to wake up. I most definitely don’t want to remember what almost happened last night. Whatever Garrick thinks, there was more to it than mindless sex. I’m just not sure what to call it yet. As soon as my head clears, the smell of fresh-brewed coffee gets me out of bed. I didn’t turn on the coffeemaker last night, but I know who did. Only one other person has a key to my apartment: Macey.
    I grab my red silk robe off the back of the chair near my bed and put it on. I let it hang open. I’m wearing a tank top and panties. I go into the bathroom, flip the light switch, and stare in the mirror. Yuck. I look like a raccoon—there’s mascara smeared underneath my eyes. I wet a washcloth with warm water and gently wipe it off. Then I grab a scrunchie from the vanity drawer and slap my hair into a ponytail.
    “What are you doing here at nine in the morning?” I call down to Macey. My apartment is loft style; the only thing separating my bedroom from the bottom floor is a cast-iron railing.
    “I haven’t spent quality time with you all week,” she answers. I hear her clanking around in the kitchen.
    I pad downstairs. The drapes on the sliding glass door are open, revealing that it’s overcast outside. I frown at the lack of sunshine and turn to the kitchen. There’s a large breakfast bar and I can see Macey through the opening. Turkey bacon sizzles loudly in a pan and I hear the toaster pop. “Breakfast, too?”
    “Nothing’s too good for my girl.”
    I slide onto the nearest bar stool. Macey is impeccably dressed. She’s wearing a vintage Dior ribbon dress and pretty flats. I shake my head; my friend dresses up to go shopping at H-E-B. We’re complete opposites in that respect. I adore jeans and boots.
    “You look like shit,” she says, setting a mug of steaming java in front of me.
    “Thanks.” I sip delicately.
    “So what’s going on, Robyn?” She places her hand on her hip and gives me a look.
    “Nothing,” I lie.
    “Craig told me he saw you take off with some guy in a brand-new Silverado last night. You skipped out on your shift again.”
    “He saw me?” I dodge her question.
    “Yeah.” She shrugs. “What did you expect? He’s your shadow.”
    “Did he tell anyone else?”
    “No, he didn’t tell Henry.”
    Our bar manager doesn’t like girls to leave with customers unless it’s a prearranged party through the business office. “So what’s the problem?” I ask.
    “You were late to every stage—sat in the VIP with a hottie—and left with a customer. Isn’t that enough?”
    She has a point. “I met someone.”
    “Don’t make me fish for answers.”
    I groan at her choice of words. “It’s complicated.”
    “I know how secretive you try to be.” She takes a long drink from her cup and swallows loudly. “But you’re a creature of habit. Whenever you do something different, Robyn, everyone notices. It’s not a secret anymore.”
    I sigh. For a high school dropout, my best friend has more common sense than most people.
    “Who is he?”
    “Garrick.”
    She crinkles her nose. “What kind of name is that?”
    I roll my eyes. “Just a name.”
    “If you’re an English lord from a historical romance.”
    “Screw you.” I laugh. “There’s some really good stories out there.”
    “Yeah,” she