Page 93 of Never Let You Go

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Christopher

Come.

Home.

We go to the back of the barn, where a local group is performing live. I lift my arms and jump in the air with the crowd. A wet kiss smacks my neck; a hand grabs my boob. I shake off the intruder and catch Grace’s eye. She’s our driver. She points her chin to the door. I’m beat and follow her out, welcoming the sobering air. She greets me and the other girls with bottles of water as we pile into her Jeep.

I take out my phone and look at the last messages from Christopher.

What the heck. I’ve got nothing to lose.

1:17 am

Me: What will I get in return?

I watch as the bubbles wave up and down on the screen on his side, stop and start again. Does he never sleep?

The bubbles stop, and minutes later, Grace drops me off.

Shoes in hand, I tiptoe up to my bedroom. It’s chilly in there, so I keep my dress on to clean up.

There’s a full-length mirror in the bathroom now, and after brushing my teeth, I take time brushing my hair and looking at myself.

I lift my dress, revealing the bodice and matching thong.

I would fuck myself in that thing.

What a waste. I let the dress slide back around me.

I skip removing my makeup, dab some cream on my lips, and step into my bedroom.

And freeze.

Against a bedpost, wearing nothing but sweatpants, his arms crossed over his muscular, naked chest, one bare foot hitched over the other, Christopher stands, the image of fury and desire.

“This what you wear to go to that place?” he growls, his hungry eyes raking my body.

I indulge for a beat in being under his scrutiny. Why doesn’t he kiss me, touch me, hold me? I can tell that’s what he wants. But he only looks at me, and from that alone, my breasts swell, my nipples tingle.

“What’s wrong with that?” I finally say, a little out of breath. “This dress is sexy.”

He closes his eyes and growls again. “Fuck, Alexandra. Do you know what kind of guys go to that place?”

Really? That’s the reaction I get? “I was just there. I saw,” I clip.

His nostrils actually flare but his gaze finally meets mine. “And?”

“And no serial killers. No rapists. I’m back in one piece, thank you very much. And there’s nothing wrong with me, and nothing wrong with my dress either. Everything in perfect working order.” Tears of frustration start gathering behind my eyes, and I take a deep breath that comes out shaky, but helps me recenter. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed, please?”

He pushes himself from the bedpost and takes three long strides that bring him an arms’ length from me. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“Bed. Sleep.”

“Everything in perfect working order. What the fuck is that supposed to mean.” He takes another step toward me that places him entirely in my space, his warmth and scent wrapping around me.

God he’s beautiful. And the way he looks at me? He drinks me in, caresses me with just his gaze. It’s unfair what he does to me.

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