I couldn’t be sure if I led our dance or Reid was in the lead. We’d completed this waltz too many times not to anticipate each other’s steps. As his fingers wove through my hair, tilting my head and deepening our kiss, we moved from the floor to our large bed. Once there, his kisses continued, not only on my lips, but peppering my skin as more words of adoration filled my ears.
I ran my hands over his muscles, feeling the indentations and the way they bulged as he moved. In between his loving words, his talented mouth sucked and nipped my nipples until each hardened and my breasts throbbed with rerouted circulation.
They weren’t alone.
By the time Reid made his way to my core, I was slick with anticipation and needy for more of what he could give.
Now fully in the lead—the choreographer of our dance—Reid rolled me to my stomach, up onto my knees, and directed my hands to the headboard. Slowly, he teased, as his freshly showered body enveloped mine. His front to my back, my flesh tingled as I was lost in the fog of his fresh scent and his muscular body. Even before we became one, we were melded together.
I whimpered and moaned as he skillfully teased my core, assuring himself of my readiness. It was bliss and torture. Finally, I could no longer contain my wanton desire. “Please, Reid.”
Bracing myself, I held to the headboard as his cock plunged between my folds. I called out as he found my entrance and thrust deep within. My back arched and my core clenched as we became one. Gripping tighter, my fingers blanched as I held on and with increased rhythm, he probed in and out. The friction within me built as his large hands held securely to my hips. Each movement was heaven as I became lost in the sensations within me.
My pleasure built. Such as bringing heat to water, the growing temperature radiated through my body until the once-still water rolled. No longer simmering, radiant heat burst like mini explosions within my veins. The heated contents rapidly flowed throughout my circulation until no part of me was left untouched.
Unable to maintain my grasp, my fingers loosened, and my forehead fell to the pillows below. As my body continued to convulse, Reid too found his release, filling me in every way.
When we were no longer one, I rolled to my back, nose to nose with the man I loved and adored. He teased a strand of my new shorter hair away from my face. “I’m sorry someone hurt you.”
I lifted my palm to his freshly shaved cheek. “It wasn’t you.”
“I never want to remind you...if I ever...” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“I wasn’t raped.”
He nodded as his forehead fell to mine. “You’re always safe with me.”
“I know that. I always have.”
He rolled to my side.
“I’ve never thought about it,” I began, “I guess I” —my head shook— “I had a flash of a man, a white man with jet-black hair. The room was cold like a jail cell.”
Reid lifted his head. “Recent memory or old?”
“Recent,” I replied, not completely sure what he meant by old. I reached for his hand and intertwined our fingers. “You.” I swallowed and looked from our hands to his face. “I fell in love with you for so many reasons. I think part of it was how different you are.”
“More than this?” he said lifting our hands, their total dissimilarity on display. One light and the other dark. One large and the other small.
“I never knew a good man,” I said, moving my gaze back to Reid’s. “I knew my brother, but he will always be my brother. But men, they...” I refused to fall into a rabbit hole I couldn’t navigate. I smiled up at Reid. “You, Reid Murray, were nothing like any man I ever knew. Yes, you were much handsomer.”
He grinned.
“But it wasn’t just your appearance. You have never treated me...assumed or insisted. You’ve been patient and kind. It’s not just with me. I watch you with everyone. You’re quiet, deliberate, and thoughtful. You’re so smart, but you don’t make me feel inferior. You listen when I speak—when anyone does. I never knew anyone like you.”
Lying back on the pillow, my husband reached for my arms and pulled me to his chest. “Lorna, I love you.” A grin came to my lips at the way his chest vibrated under my cheek.
“I love you, too.”
Reid
After Lorna’s shower, I had breakfast ready for her in our own apartment. My cooking skills were minimal, but I could handle scrambled eggs, toast, fruit, and coffee. As I began to cook, I sent Madeline a text message, asking if she would mind cooking for everyone in the penthouse this morning without Lorna. Of course, she responded she’d be happy to, followed by questions about Lorna. I told her Lorna had overslept. It wasn’t completely inaccurate, perhaps misleading.
My wife had awakened. We’d just spent a little more time in bed than on a normal morning.
Cleaning up our dishes, I smiled at seeing my wife’s hair.
“What?” she asked, running her fingers through the chin-length ends.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
“How was it fucking a brunette?” she asked, lifting her coffee cup to hide her seductive grin.
“Much better than the last time.”
“Wait. What?” She set her cup down on the breakfast bar. “Oh no. If this hair color reminds you of someone else, I’ll be a redhead before you get back from downstairs for dinner.”
Going around the counter, I reached for her waist, spun the tall stool, and brought our noses together. “I’m teasing you.”
“I like you teasing. You haven’t been in much of a jovial mood lately.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not, but I’m closer. Your comment about the dark-haired man and the cold room—Araneae remembered the same. And it matches what the forensics team found as well as the man we had on satellite. Mason and I are working on something else too. My mood will improve after a few other people’s worsen.”
Lorna reached for my hand. “I don’t need or want a head.”
“How about a finger?”
She let go. “Gross. No.”
“Are you going upstairs to the penthouse?” I asked.
“Yeah, I want to see everyone. I’m not sure how I’ll explain this.” She again fluffed the sides of her hair.
“Don’t.”
“Oh, you don’t know them like I do. They’ll want answers.”
“Tell them you were fulfilling my fantasy.” That wasn’t a lie. “Tell them I was dying to fuck a brunette.” That part was an exaggeration.
Lorna playfully swatted my chest. “I think I can come up with something better. And I’ll probably talk to Araneae about what she remembers.”
“We’d rather you don’t.”
“Why?” she asked.
“We don’t want her memories to confuse yours or vice versa.”
Lorna sighed and reached again for her coffee mug. “Can I talk with Laurel about them?”
I nodded. The phone in my pocket vibrated again. It had been vibrating on and off since we started eating.
“Go,” Lorna said. “I’m fine. Do what you do and come back. Maybe I’ll be blonde tonight.”