Page 76 of Lawless in Leather

“If he can shred leather, then I’m impressed,” Mal said. “I can buy more sofas.” He kept walking and Raina walked behind him, head turning from side to side as she tried to form an impression other than “big.” Polished floors. Reds and browns and dark grays with flashes of white. An eclectic mix of art. Big photos, black-and-white and color of both baseball scenes and nature. Five guitars hung on one section of wall.

“You play guitar?” Raina said.

“Not very well,” Mal said. “But I like the way they look.”

They reached the far end of the room and a door made of red-brown wood that toned with the bricks.

Beyond that was another corridor. She was starting to feel like she’d stepped into the TARDIS. Bigger on the inside.

“My room’s the door at the far end,” Mal said. “Kitchen’s this one.” He pushed the first door on the right open and Raina caught a glimpse of stainless steel and gleaming glass and more reddish wood in the cabinets.

Mal ignored the next few doors and Raina restrained her curiosity. He finally stopped just before the end of the corridor where the door he’d indicated was his dead in front of them and then opened the last door on the left before the corridor ended. “This can be you,” he said. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the rest of Wash’s stuff from your truck.” He put Wash’s carrier down on the carpet just inside the door and smiled at her. “I’ll be right back.”

“You might want to take a snack for the hike,” she said.

“I’m used to it. Keeps me fit.”

She suspected that one of the other doors would reveal a home gym of some sort. Mal would want to work out in a way that suited in him and when it suited him. He’d have his own setup.

But she could explore the rest of the doors later. Right now she wanted to get Wash settled and then sleep.

She bent down and opened the carrier. Wash stalked out with an angry-sounding “Mrrrooowwwww.” He looked up at her and then around the room. Then promptly sat down and gave a much more curious chirp of inquiry as his head swiveled from side to side, surveying the room again.

Mal didn’t skimp on guest bedrooms apparently. The bed was a king size, piled with pillows and a comforter in shades of light gray, black, and red. A bank of low drawers stood against the wall opposite the bed, with a giant TV on the wall above them. The windows were hidden by a floor-to-ceiling fall of curtains in a shimmery shade of one of the deeper grays in the bed linen. The fourth wall was shiny black. She could just make out the outlines of doors in the gleaming expanse. Wardrobe, she assumed. Not that she really needed a wardrobe. The nightstands were the same lacquered black with low silver lamps with black shades. There was a matching black door in the same wall as the bed.

“Hey cat, I think we got an en suite,” she said. Wash looked at her suspiciously. “Don’t blame me. I didn’t choose the change in location. You need to chew on something of Mal’s to get even for that.” She wandered over to the door, opened it, and stuck her head into the room. Which made the lights come on. Definite fan of motion sensors, her Mal. The bathroom held a very long, very deep-black bath and a shower and a toilet. Nice. Plus having an en suite made figuring out where to put Wash’s litter tray easy. She would investigate more when Mal came back.

She backed up and sat on the bed, toeing off the ratty beat-up Nikes she’d put on at the club after the show. She was wearing jeans and her oldest sweatshirt and she’d scrubbed her face clean of makeup. Glamour at its finest.

She flopped back on the bed and heard Wash land beside her. He butted her cheek with his head then climbed onto her stomach, sat down, and started grooming a paw. The slurping sound was kind of soothing and she let herself drift for a while.

“Someone’s feeling at home.”

She raised her head and peered around Wash. Mal stood in the doorway with the box full of cat paraphernalia. “He always does.” She sat up, lifting Wash onto the comforter.

“Don’t get up. I’ll put this stuff in the bathroom,” Mal said.

She lay back down. Just for a minute. She needed a minute.

Somewhere in the distance she vaguely recognized the sound of water running. But she couldn’t quite make herself get off the bed to investigate. Mal had exceptional taste in mattresses, she decided. It was firm but somehow soft at the same time. Like lying in a supportive cloud. It made her brain go blank and cloudy, too. Just what the doctor had ordered. She felt a weight on the bed beside her.

“Don’t bother me, Wash, I’ll feed you in a minute,” she murmured.

“Not Wash, Mal,” Mal said with a soft laugh.

She opened her eyes. “Big,” she said. Then ran her hand over his chin and the stubble that had sprung up as it did at the end of every long day. “Furry. Same same.”

“Can Wash do this?” he said and kissed her. Softly. Sweetly. It made her sink back down into the cloudy bliss.

“Mmmm,” she sighed. “Probably not. His breath usually smells like cat food.”

“I know you were looking forward to angry makeup sex,” Mal said. “But I have another idea.”

“You do? Does it involve sleeping?”

His hand slid up under her sweatshirt, found her breast. He brushed a thumb over her nipple. “You can sleep if you want.” His thumb moved again and the cloud dissolved then re-formed into a whole different kind of pleasant.

She opened her eyes. “You have my attention.”

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