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I swallowed the ball of emotion that lodged itself in my throat every time I thought of Fawn and the way she’d been taken from us. I forced down the thought I’d abandoned her when our kidnappers had returned me without her. All because my father was a politician who could have made life difficult for them. I had no idea who Fawn’s family was, she never talked about them, but they clearly weren’t people Fawn’s ex feared.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how scared she’d been. How scared I’d been. And now Fawn was alone.
Exhaustion swamped me hard. Every night when I fell asleep, the memories played over as dreams. Both of us trapped. Hurt. Terrified.
I said the words I never wanted to say, because I couldn’t lie to Lyric. Not anymore. “I think she might be.”
Lyric sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I do too.”
We both stared at each other, water filling our eyes, until she turned away.
“I need to go get ready.”
“Okay,” I whispered, remembering the last time Fawn had walked out of this office to do the same, and wishing I could replay that last day with her over and over.
Lyric closed the door behind her, and I put my head down on my desk to let the tears fall silently.
“Hey, Evil.”
I glanced up at my boyfriend’s soft greeting, already knowing it was him because nobody else called me that. It had once been said in hate, but now it was a term of endearment. I hadn’t even heard him open the door. I just stared at him miserably, letting the tears fall down my cheeks.
“Oh, baby.” He padded across my office floor and tugged me up out of my seat so he could wrap his arms around me.
He didn’t question what was wrong. He knew. He’d been there with me through all the nightmares and the questions, and the fear. He knew her disappearance, and the fact we may never get closure, ate away at me every day. I had survivor’s guilt so badly it was near crippling.
He smoothed his hand up and down my back in calm, gentle motions, always my pillar of strength whenever I couldn’t hold it together anymore. I cried into his shoulder until I felt bone-dry and my head hurt.
“I hate seeing you like this,” he said into my neck. “It fucking guts me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not what I meant. I understand, I just hate how stressed you are. And that there’s never any reprieve.”
I lifted my eyes to look into his startling blue ones. “You’re my reprieve.” I pressed my lips to his softly. “I hurt less when you’re here.”
He kissed me again, lips gentle. It was a kiss full of love. He’d delivered me so many of those since we’d admitted how we felt about each other. But I could never have enough of them. I opened my mouth, tongue darting out to touch his.
He paused, drawing back so he could look at me.
When I said he was my reprieve, a big part of that was the sex. It was really hard to think about anything else when he was deep inside me and an orgasm was wiping out all coherent thought. It was a daily thing with us. Sometimes more than once a day, because it was the only time I could get Fawn off my mind.
“Kiss me,” I begged him, lips against his, insistent and needy. “Please.”
He knew I meant a lot more than just kiss me. I meant touch me. Lick me. Suck me. Fuck me until all that existed was him and me and the connection between us.
He glanced over his shoulder at the office door, slightly open. “We’re at work. You’ll have a club full of people out there soon.”
I stepped back and lifted my dress over my head. I wasn’t wearing a bra beneath.
Boston’s gaze went straight to my tits. He stepped in, cupping one, squeezing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He lowered his head to the other to suck it into his mouth.
I dropped my head back with a moan, letting my long dark hair dangle down my back.
His fingers slipped inside my panties, delving between my thighs and my folds, swiping through the silky wetness there. “You’re wet, baby.”
It was partial arousal.
Partial something else. “I’m ovulating.”
