I Won’t Say (I’m in Love)
Author: Evee Lamb
Genre: Contemporary Romance / Erotica
After being stuck in a dead end relationship with her abusive ex-boyfriend, Zelda wants to say goodbye to relationships and say hello to no-strings sex. Preferably with a man who owns a lingerie collection larger than her own. So when Pytor Valentine pings into her inbox after Zelda decides to navigate the world of online dating, Zelda thinks she’s found the perfect man. He’s everything should could as for: handsome, well-read, owns an extensive collection of lingerie, and is looking for unattached sex.
But after seeing Pytor wrapped up in silk, all of his hard muscles and sharp curves trimmed with lace, Zelda isn’t sure one night of white hot passion is enough. But with Derek muscling his way back into her life and Pytor not looking for a relationship, Zelda doesn’t know if she’ll ever get more than sex.
If Zelda wants to survive with her heart in tack, she can’t fall in love. Too bad she’s pretty sure she already is.
But after seeing Pytor wrapped up in silk, all of his hard muscles and sharp curves trimmed with lace, Zelda isn’t sure one night of white hot passion is enough. But with Derek muscling his way back into her life and Pytor not looking for a relationship, Zelda doesn’t know if she’ll ever get more than sex.
If Zelda wants to survive with her heart in tack, she can’t fall in love. Too bad she’s pretty sure she already is.
Zelda snatched the tequila bottle from Antonia and took a quick pull. The liquor burned down her esophagus. Usually she wouldn’t be drinking. But then again, it wasn’t every night that she was dumped by her boyfriend of three years. She eyed the amber liquid in the bottle and took another swig. Technically, Derek had dumped her a few days ago, but the pain hadn’t lessened any since Monday. She passed the bottle back to Antonia. The lingering fire in her gut made her wince.
“Fuck him.”
“You’re right,” Zelda retorted. “Fuck him. I don’t need him—or any man!”
Antonia paused, her hand stretched out for the bottle. “Any man?”
“Damn straight!”
Antonia wrapped her manicured fingers around the neck of the bottle. “What about sex?”
“Who needs sex? It wasn’t like we were having it in the end, anyhow.” Zelda’s stomach rolled. By the end, she’d barely even been seeing Derek. She reached for the bottle, but Antonia hugged it close. Zelda shot her a glare and waved her hand. “Hand it over.”
Antonia took a drink and passed it back. Zelda tipped the bottle, made a noise, and shook her head as if that would help ease the tequila down. She caught sight of herself in the mirror hung on the dining-room wall. Her already rouged cheeks were flushed even more from the alcohol.
“So, wait. You weren’t having sex? Like any?”
Zelda clutched the bottle. Antonia gawked at her. Zelda saw the disbelief in her eyes, watched her mouth fall open. Zelda bit her bottom lip, wishing she could snatch back the words. They were out there, though, and from the look in Antonia’s eyes, she wasn’t going to let it go.
“Yeah, like any.” Zelda chased the confession down with another drink.
“For how long?”
Good question. She scrunched her eyebrows together. Zelda eased the bottle from her lips. How long? Long enough for Zelda to establish a much deeper relationship with her vibrator. She shrugged. “Six months, I guess?”
“You guess? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt! How did you not leave him?” Antonia reached for the bottle. Zelda let her take it.
A black cat jumped onto the table and sat down. Zelda picked him up and deposited him into her lap. “No, Tolstoy.”
Tolstoy wriggled out of her grip and leaped back onto the floor, his tail up and twitching. Zelda watched him go, her alcohol-filled stomach sinking to the floor. Why hadn’t she left Derek? It’d been evident before they’d stopped having sex that things were going downhill. His temper had grown shorter. He had become petty and jealous. And he was never there for her. He was always busy. How many times had he worked late? The precinct couldn’t need him that much.
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Zelda choked out. She covered her face with her hands, trying to stave off tears. “Christ, I wasted half a year trying to salvage something that was already gone!”
“You aren’t an idiot.”
“Fuck him.”
“You’re right,” Zelda retorted. “Fuck him. I don’t need him—or any man!”
Antonia paused, her hand stretched out for the bottle. “Any man?”
“Damn straight!”
Antonia wrapped her manicured fingers around the neck of the bottle. “What about sex?”
“Who needs sex? It wasn’t like we were having it in the end, anyhow.” Zelda’s stomach rolled. By the end, she’d barely even been seeing Derek. She reached for the bottle, but Antonia hugged it close. Zelda shot her a glare and waved her hand. “Hand it over.”
Antonia took a drink and passed it back. Zelda tipped the bottle, made a noise, and shook her head as if that would help ease the tequila down. She caught sight of herself in the mirror hung on the dining-room wall. Her already rouged cheeks were flushed even more from the alcohol.
“So, wait. You weren’t having sex? Like any?”
Zelda clutched the bottle. Antonia gawked at her. Zelda saw the disbelief in her eyes, watched her mouth fall open. Zelda bit her bottom lip, wishing she could snatch back the words. They were out there, though, and from the look in Antonia’s eyes, she wasn’t going to let it go.
“Yeah, like any.” Zelda chased the confession down with another drink.
“For how long?”
Good question. She scrunched her eyebrows together. Zelda eased the bottle from her lips. How long? Long enough for Zelda to establish a much deeper relationship with her vibrator. She shrugged. “Six months, I guess?”
“You guess? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt! How did you not leave him?” Antonia reached for the bottle. Zelda let her take it.
A black cat jumped onto the table and sat down. Zelda picked him up and deposited him into her lap. “No, Tolstoy.”
Tolstoy wriggled out of her grip and leaped back onto the floor, his tail up and twitching. Zelda watched him go, her alcohol-filled stomach sinking to the floor. Why hadn’t she left Derek? It’d been evident before they’d stopped having sex that things were going downhill. His temper had grown shorter. He had become petty and jealous. And he was never there for her. He was always busy. How many times had he worked late? The precinct couldn’t need him that much.
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Zelda choked out. She covered her face with her hands, trying to stave off tears. “Christ, I wasted half a year trying to salvage something that was already gone!”
“You aren’t an idiot.”
Evee Lamb lives in Columbus, Ohio with her two cats Mo and Cheedo. She publishes male x male romance under the penname Evelyn Shepherd. Between writing and working as a graphic designer, she spends her free time expanding her library and traveling.
