Page 99 of Quiver

Sun slanted low through the blinds as they settled half atop each other. Neither of them spoke, nor did either of them make any move to untangle themselves from each other.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“I’m ravenous,” Fletcher growled in Kye’s ear and marveled as the woman’s nipples hardened under the thin white sheet. She’d forgotten how it felt to hold that kind of power over another person’s body. She’d been watching her sleep for the last few minutes and got the sense Kylie wasn’t even fully awake now, but something deep inside her still responded on a level beyond awareness.

Kye rolled onto her side and her eyes fluttered open, startlingly blue at this range. “You’re insatiable.”

“I think you’re projecting,” Fletcher said. “I only meant to inform you that I’m hungry in the conventional sense. You’re the one who kept me from eating dinner last night.”

“Sorry not sorry.” Kylie did a poor job of stifling a yawn. “If memory serves, you did eventually find something else to eat.”

Fletcher laughed lightly. “You’ve always been so crass.”

“And you’ve always loved it.”

The l-word hung between them for a few seconds, but it didn’t feel as weighty as it might’ve in the past. “Maybe, but this morning I’d also love some breakfast.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to cook for you.” Kylie rolled onto her back and stretched her arms over her head before wincing. “Even if I knew how to do such a thing, I’m not sure I’d be capable of finding the coordination after the workout you gave me last night.”

A sense of accomplishment rose in her. They’d made love many times, in many ways, and Kylie’s body showed little sign of fatigue by the time Fletcher had finally dozed off. It sparked a sense of pride to know she’d left her mark on that impressive stamina.

Kylie glanced over at her. “Someone looks smug.”

“Can you blame me? I managed to wreck the great Kye Manchester, movie star, Broadway actress, and all-around stubborn pain in my ass for the last six weeks.”

Kylie rolled over and kissed her deeply, sliding a leg between Fletcher’s, the heat of their skin threatening to spark another inferno. Then, just as quickly as she’d started stoking the fire, she blew it out by pulling back and kicking off the covers.

Fletcher struggled to even sit up, shocked and slightly out of breath as Kylie swung her long legs off the side of the bed and hopped up gracefully.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To take a shower. And by the time I’m done, I expect you to have made good on that offer for breakfast.” Then she walked away in all her stark-naked glory, pausing only when she reached the door to toss a smile over her shoulder. “And by the way, thanks for last night. I also enjoyed wrecking a world champion athlete.”

Fletcher flopped back onto the pillow as Kylie closed the door, waiting to feel some sting of annoyance or pushback at being topped, but she hadn’t minded it last night, and nothing seemed to bother her this morning, either. Which, now that she allowed herself a moment to think about it, was even more surprising than Kylie vaulting off the bed.

Was that progress? Healing? She got up, fighting the urge to pin too much hope on one night, but if they were serious about breaking patterns, her inability to summon any crushing sense of regret had to rank pretty high. For the first time in ages, she and Kylie had collided in a way that left her feeling good. What would it be like to accept the gift instead of overanalyzing or trying to make it mean something more?

She pulled on yesterday’s clothes and headed downstairs, where Bear huffed at her disapprovingly. She’d managed to let him out briefly last night between rounds of sex, but she hadn’t let him back into the bedroom, a fact he clearly held against her as he didn’t follow her into the barn.

She glanced around, feeling silly for expecting anything to look different. It was the same place it had always been. Nothing that had happened here had made any difference to the hay or the horses. Only she’d changed.

She went through the rote chore of feeding and watering without issue. She wasn’t freaking out. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t rushing to figure out what anything meant in the long term. Still, the weight she’d carried for so long felt lighter if not lifted completely, and the absence of it felt … good. God, how long had it been since she’d settled for feeling good in a moment?

She’d always pushed, always pulled, always chased, and wasn’t that Kylie’s point yesterday? Yes, Kylie had been the one to go, but Fletcher had issued the all-or-nothing ultimatum. How’d she let herself miss that for so long? It wasn’t even out of character for her. She did want it all, she always had, but as she headed back to the house, she was no longer sure she wanted to trade everything for nothing, and what had happened last night definitely seemed like something.

She pulled ingredients and utensils out of cupboards and fired up the burners under her cast-iron griddle before she heard footsteps falling on the stairs.

“You better be making waffles.” Kylie came in wearing Fletcher’s blue bathrobe, her red hair still wet at the ends.

Fletcher’s mouth went dry at the sight of her, her skin still flushed from the shower and her eyes sparkling with mischief. It took her a second to find her voice, and even then she only managed to rasp out, “Pancakes.”

Kylie’s lush lower lip pouted. “Waffles are better.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“You can’t cook either of them, so I guess you’re at my mercy.”