Page 79 of Dragonfly

Asshole, I think, and there’s actually a hint of affection to it. “What about you? You’re ten years older than me. You’re memory must be going, babe. You’re telling me you remember yours.”

“Most of them.”

“Bullshit.”

“Not at all, wife. As you so kindly mentioned, I am older than you. That means I remember a time before cellphones. When, if I wanted to call someone, I had to memorize the number and hoped they answered.” Damien drops a kiss to my lips, tasting my smile. “I didn’t even get my first phone until I was twenty and I stole it. I remember it, too. A blue Nokia brick, and I bashed in a guy’s head with it without even denting the thing.”

I giggle. “That image shouldn’t be as sexy as it is.”

“That’s only because, deep down, you’re as violent as I am. But that’s okay, ragna mia. I like that about you.” Then, before I can make a comment to his fairly apt assessment of Savannah, he asks, “What about you? How old were you when you got your first phone.

Oof. Most of the time, I don’t notice the age gap between us. But when he asks something like that…

“Nine,” I admit.

“Nine! With a phone?”

“I had soccer practice, okay?”

Damien sucks in a breath. “Soccer? Oh, amore…” His shoulder moves, arm sliding until he has his hand on my thigh. Tugging me closer with his other hand, he uses the first one to caress as much of my leg as I can reach. “Is that where you got these gorgeous legs? Mm… so strong. So powerful. So delicious, especially when they’re wrapped around your husband.”

His fingers guide upward, finding their way to my pussy. Like Damien, I’m still naked from earlier. Naked and, when he dips his finger inside of me, testing to see how wet I am, fucking soaked.

“Ah…” His breath is warm on my skin as he exhales. “I have an idea. Let’s see if this old man can show his young wife how my generation entertained ourselves before smartphones took over. What do you think?”

I let the phone Damien gave me slip out of my hand, falling to the other side of me as he eases me to my back.

“I think that sounds like a great idea…”

TWENTY-SEVEN

WHERE IS HE

SAVANNAH

Last night was great. Damien more than made up for his boasting, and after I was panting beneath him, I finally muttered something about how I’m glad I met him when he was forty. I think a later-twenties, early-thirties Damien would’ve been the death of me.

But that was last night.

Today? I’m freaking out.

I can’t find Orion.

At first, I figured he was still exploring the house. It didn’t take my cat long to learn that off-limits didn’t apply to him; honestly, it doesn’t apply to me, either, anymore. More often than not, he’s upstairs, keeping Genevieve company while she’s stretching, practicing, or working on her choreography. If not there, he’s following Mary around the kitchen, hoping the kindly cook would drop some scraps for him.

I’ve double-checked the first floor three times already. Vin’s door is closed, whether he’s home or not, but when I knock on the door and realize he’s sleeping off an all-night search for Oliver, I slink away after he confirms Orion didn’t slip in when he got home this morning.

Frankie promises he’ll let me know if he finds my cat, though I shouldn’t worry since Orion usually finds some out of the way corner to nap in, especially when he’s having another flare-up. But he’s been good lately which is why I’m so concerned when it seems as if he’s up and disappeared.

I want to ask Genevieve if she’s seen him, but I figure I’ll have to wait until the music stops before I head upstairs..

I’ve learned that, when the music is playing and the door is closed, it’s better to leave Genevieve be. She can go from bubbly to demanded in a heartbeat, then blame it on the stress of being interrupted. I don’t blame her, either, and it’s better for me to find something to do on my own while I’m waiting for Damien to return home.

Once Vin came home and gave him an update on the search—which yielded no sign of Oliver so far—the two men traded places. My husband kissed my goodbye while Vin went to bed.

It’s late afternoon now. I tried to distract myself with television in between getting up to look around for Orion. It made it harder to focus because, usually when one of us is in here, so is he.

Finally, right when it’s about six o’clock, the music finally dies. I don’t hesitate. Launching myself from the couch, I head right upstairs, going so quick that I nearly slam right into Gen coming out of her studio.

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