He sets the guitar aside, and his hand reaches for mine in a slow, sensual gesture, our fingers intertwining.
In the quiet, the only thing we hear is the quickened beat of our hearts and our breath.
And if I ever thought we wouldn’t find our way to each other, I know now that it’s impossible.
He and I… we never left that path.
???
The next morning I open my eyes with the awareness that my heat recovery is over.
I simply know it, because I wake up with a hard, throbbing erection that makes me twist in the bed, tossing from side to side, rolling onto my stomach to press it down a little, but I don’t touch myself.
My mind is still full of last night, the evening spent watching the recording of one of Bay’s concerts, the one I love because it’s beautifully shot and the fans sing along with him in a few songs. We sat side by side, I could feel his presence and my pulse never settled, and from time to time we exchanged heated glances.
Then we talked for about an hour about the news from his family. About everything that happened over the last few months, about his brothers who found their True Mates. One big surprise for me was that literally a week earlier, Bay’s brother Rain had gotten married to none other than… Kay Sanders, the same guy, the model I once met at Jared’s wedding. But the biggest shock was yet to come!
Their oldest brother, River, came back to the family!
He showed up unexpectedly at the wedding, bringing his True Mate, causing a full-on family sensation and a flood of happy tears. I have to admit, this news made me thrilled, because I know River’s disappearance was like a wound in that family’s heart, and now they can finally start to heal it.
Bay also fills me in on the other brothers, on new babies and pregnancies in the family, and all of it makes me ecstatic,because I wish that family nothing but the best. I’m glad they all found the right path and their own happiness.
Meanwhile, my own life was stuck in a kind of uncertain limbo, and maybe I need to take matters into my own hands and steer the flow of events a little.
I lie there for a long moment, lost in thought.
It’s so frustrating. I am in the same house as Bay, but I can’t touch him.
Something uneasy rises in my body, a kind of heat, something on the edge of hunger, my slick tunnel tightening and pulsing, fuck.
How long can a person endure this?
I slide out of bed and take a quick shower, then go to the closet and dig through my clothes until I find a pair of gloves I once had for some school play, when I played Santa’s helper.
I also take a pack of condoms. Monster size.
Then I leave the room and head to the first floor, a vertical crease between my brows.
Bay is still asleep, or at least that’s how it looks when I step into his room. The bed that had been brought here for Jared is standing in a different place than the one where I killed Oswald, something that brings me a strange sense of relief.
Bay looks ridiculously good lying in that bed, his limbs sprawled, a thin blanket thrown loosely over his hips, and under the fabric his morning erection is clearly outlined and dear Fate… it’s thick and long. Massive.
He’s naked under the blanket, and I take in his unbelievably muscular, tattooed body: the chest with its solid bulges of muscle, the perfect abs, the huge, heavy biceps, all of it on display for my shameless, hungry eyes, while his long, dark-red hair spills over the pillow like streaks of dried blood.
His eyes are closed, his mouth slightly parted.
I stand over him like a creep.
I take a moment to look at his regular, symmetrical features, the soft full shape of his mouth so similar to his dad’s, and those impossibly thick dark lashes.
Sometimes I have this absurd thought about what our kids would look like. Probably super cute…
I take a step toward him, leaning down a little, and my gloved hand drifts lightly across his chest. I tremble as I do it, because it has been nearly ten years since the last time I touched him in any sexual way—officially—and the sensation is incredible, electric.
Bay slowly turns his head on the pillow and his long lashes lift.
The dark malachite green of his eyes looks at me like a deep, unfathomable pool.
