“This okay” I ask quietly.
“I-I didn’t know things could be like this…” She says with a half sniffle.
Honestly, neither did I…I wash the suds from her skin. Part of me wants to give in to the heat again, but I don’t.
Tag me in coach.
“Lean back.” I murmur, and she follows my lead, trusting. My hands work through her hair, lathering shampoo carefully, rinsing, and then repeating with conditioner. I brush the long strands back from her face, enjoying the softness, the quiet closeness between us.
“All done,” I say finally, reaching for the warm towels. A smaller one for her hair, a larger one for her shoulders. I wrap one around my waist. “Come on, let’s get you dry and into bed.”
She leans into me as I wrap the towels around her, tucking herself into my chest, quiet and small, as I carry her back to the bed. I notice the blood on the sheet and quickly remove it, bunching it up and chucking it in a corner. I dry her hair with the edge of the towel, then lay her down and pull the blanket up around her shoulders. She looks half asleep already, eyes heavy, lips curved in a tired smile.
“Why are you taking care of me like this?” She says softly, almost disbelieving.
“Because you deserve it.” I say, smoothing the damp hair back from her forehead. She smiles again, that small, perfect curve that wrecks me.
“You deserve it to.”
“Sure—” I begin to laugh, but she puts her index finger on my lips, shushing me.
“Sleep with me?”
Been there done that…I want to tease, but there is a bit of an edge to her. I crack a smile again, nodding against her finger.
I climb in beside her, pulling her against me. She fits there like she was made to—her head tucked under my chin, her breath steadying against my chest.
The noise in my head goes quiet. No chaos. Just her heartbeat, slow against mine.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, eyes closing. “Sleep, baby.” I whisper. Her fingers find mine under the blanket, threading them together.
Chapter twenty-eight
Seraphina
Black Betty – Spiderbait
The other side of the bed is cold. I blink against the pale morning light, my fingers searching for warmth that isn’t there. Only the soft impression of where Trey had been remains—a dip in the mattress, a trace of him in the sheets, and a note on my pillow.
Come find mein the studio, baby.
— T
My heart squeezes—a stupid, hopeless ache that ties itself to the memory of last night. Marital…activities. It’s a dull throb, deep and lingering, but I don’t mind it. It’s proof it was real. Proofhewas real, with me, in that moment. What happened between us actually happened. It wasn’t just a one-time thing. He didn’t vanish with the sunrise. He’s still here. I can still feel him when I move—the soreness, the warmth he left behind. The air still smells faintly like him, caught in the sheets, on my skin. Every shift, every breath, reminds me he was here. Thatwewere here.
I press the note to my chest for a heartbeat before slipping out of bed. The floorboards creak beneath my feet as I pad into the bathroom. My reflection stares back at me. Wild curls, sleepy eyes, the faintest flush still clinging to my cheeks.
I don’t look any different.
But Ifeelit.
I brush my teeth, drag a comb through my tangled hair, and catch my gaze in the mirror. My lips curve, unbidden. Maybemy eyes look a little lighter today. Maybe that’s what it looks like—freedom.
Then it hits me—the memory, sharp and breathless.
His voice, low and rough against my ear.
Such a good girl, baby. You should see how well you’re taking my cock.
