“Feeling it already?” Brendan smirked, his eyes narrowing at the sight. He bent, looming over her, and gently tipped Deirdre’s chin up at him.

She slapped her hand away as shame rose to take control of her. Everything about it was so embarrassing, yet Brendan was such a professional at kissing that even her rage could not come up with any retaliation.

She asked for it the moment she came to see him. She knew this was going to happen.

She fought her shame at bay and clenched her hands. “Why? Why are you doing this? If Charlene knows… She’s not going to be happy about this!”

The name seemed to have summoned dark clouds into Brendan’s gaze. Deadpanned, he replied, “Why? Because that’s who we are. That’s what all men are. Just because I love her doesn’t mean I’m going to save myself for her or something stupid like that. I can always indulge in my old bedmate if I do it behind her back.”

‘His old bedmate… Me…’

Deirdre blanched at the idea. She shot a look of disappointment at Brendan