I blaze pink but I do as he said, uncurling my tongue and showing him what I refused to swallow before.
All of a sudden, I’m up on his lap facing him, his cock is pressed against my aching pussy. His tongue is in my mouth,and he’s swiping his come over every part of my mouth he can.
I barely breathe; I’m so turned on. He guides my hips back and forth with both his hands until I rub myself on his hard cock. The relief is beautiful, but when he starts to use his fingers along the seam of my pants, I literally can only take a couple of his touches before I’m whimpering against his mouth and soaking my panties with my release.
Chapter
Twenty-One
SIMONA
Ithink I float all the way back to Unity. Not because Ryder arranges a private charter, but the memory of our time has me blitzed out the entire flight back.
Waiting for my bags, I check in with the girls, half disappointed, half relieved to see that both Tristan and Raney are away and won’t be back for a few more days. Heidi’s last message shows she’s back, but when I push the door open to our unit, I know I’m the only one home.
The sitting room lights are on, but there’s a note on the kitchen bench.
Sim, sorry I’m not here to hear all about how amazing you were at Rejoice.
I’ve been summoned by the board. I’d like to tell them to kiss my ass, but I can’t. Yet. And I’ll probably be away for a couple of days…
There’s food in the fridge, and I paired the wine to match—please have a glass or three for me. Love you. I really am sorry I’m not here to see you. XX H
“Goddamn it, Ho, you made me cry,” I confess as I leave a message on her phone before getting serious. “Thank you for leaving me dinner. If you want me, just call and you know I’ll be there. Can’t wait to see you.” A million other things dance through my thoughts, but I chicken out telling her any and hang up.
As I wait for the shower to steam up, I mull over what I could share with the girls. I mean, I swore Hendrix to secrecy, so I can’t tell them about him. Ryder seems to live the same way—guarded and private, even performing behind a mask—so spilling the truth about him is off the table. But as the thought lingers, I realise something else: I don’twantto share. Not a word. I want them both to be mine, and mine alone, something just for me.
As I undress, I keep Ryder and Hendrix in the forefront of my thoughts. I fixate on the small details—Hendrix’s habit of rubbing his thumb and index finger together when he talks, the countless variations of Ryder’s smirk, each distinct and unmistakable. Those fragments of them stay with me, offering a strange kind of comfort as I take stock of each mark Brody left behind.
I knew this run-in with him wasn’t his worst. The frenzy was just that, but it also meant in the wild flurry his punches lacked their usual intensity. The lack ofinjury doesn’t detract from the humiliation and horror of being beaten. My tears wash down the drain, and the emotional release is as soothing as the shower itself.
Still craving comfort, I decide upon a cute set of pyjamas Tristan left on my bed—fuzzy socks included. And once my hair is done, I feel more settled, but I’m not in the mood to chat. Instead, I shoot texts to Ryder and Hendrix, letting themknow I got home safe and sound, and that I’ll call in the morning.
Ryder texts back almost immediately with an address for the law office of the person he wants me to speak with. An appointment first thing in the morning sounds brutal but after reading the other messages and emails I’ve missed since being at Rejoice—most particularly the one from my family, and Brody’s, advising I have an upcoming gynaecologist appointment—it’s an easy decision to attend.
Sleep is easy, and it helps that I wrap myself in my favourite itchy blanket. And my calm continues as I get ready in the morning.
Stepping on to the street, the guards Hendrix arranged wave me a good morning from their booth and I set off in the opposite direction. Within a block, I’m joined by a couple who trail behind me looking like they’re off for breakfast, but I recognise the driver from the night at Noire so I already know it’s Hendrix’s people.
They stay at a respectable distance as we walk from one side of the city to the other, and when I buzz to be let into the office, they take a seat at the coffee shop across the road.
As I push through the main doors and into the dark foyer, there’s a realisation whoever I’m meeting might be the only one in the office. If I wasn’t so worried about the upcoming doctor’s appointment, I’d probably walk out the door. Before I can, the unthinkable happens.
He approaches. And that of course is no surprise, given our appointment. Yet it’s not the sight of him that catches me off guard. It’s his scent that I recognise immediately. After all, burying my face in the blanket covered by his scent is the only way I can fall asleep.
“Sorry to have kept you,” he says as he walks down the hall towards me. But by the way he speaks I can tell he hasn’t seen me.
I should answer but I’m spellbound. Completely and utterly lost really in the magic of his scent. His unique perfume curls around me like a house cat scent marking. And while my blanket carried his scent, in the flesh, it robs me of coherent thought.
All except one—scent match—bounces on an infinity loop in my head, and my heart. And while I knew his unique perfume was akin to the scent of a new book, standing directly in front of him is like being dragged into the bud of a flower where each petal has its own fragrance. There are certainly sweet notes but that’s like saying chocolate is chocolate. I could spend hours figuring out each alteration of vanilla, florals, and almonds or I could simply say—he smells divine—like paper and ink, printing and binding—a book written just for me.
I seriously have to fight not to close the distance between us. If I move an inch, I’m sure it would only be to drag my nose over every inch of his skin to find my favourite place on him.
And while I’m dealing with the impact of finally meeting the Alpha who has been a constant presence since I left the airport in Denver, it seems he might also be a little thrown.
He was distracted before, but when he notices me, the paper he was reading slips from his fingers and flutters to the floor.
It feels like the whole world comes to a grinding stop. In that strange space all he can do is stare. A hundred emotions dance in his eyes, making the brown of them change like the seasons.
