Page 31 of His

“Good news with work?”

“Yes, a potentially big new contract.”

“That’s exciting.”

“Mmm,” he says, sweeping a hand over my hair.

“Is Valerie asleep?”

“Yes, and the new nurse, Brittney, is outside, eating dinner on the patio. Speaking of eating . . .”

Before I can swat him away, I’m lifted off my feet and set on the marble counter of the vanity. I giggle as he tickles his beard against my neck in the playful way that he does. And in the playful way that I do, I reach down and grab his erection, already wet at the tip.

I laugh. “You have the hormones of a teenager, Mr. Stone.”

“That might be the greatest compliment you’ve ever given me.” He winks, then drops to his knees, his hands trailing down my thighs. We’re both smiling, both so happy, as he leans in and buries himself between my legs.

I tip my head back and inhale, threading my fingers through his hair as he french kisses my pussy.

I come fast and hard, convulsing against his face.

When I open my eyes, Valerie is standing in the doorway—and written in the condensation on the shower wall next to her is one word:

Chloe.

Twenty

Sabine

I scream, so startled that it’s impossible to keep in. Astor surges up, startled by my scream, and spins around.

I lunge off the counter, wrapping myself in a towel. My hands are shaking so badly, I almost drop it.

Astor positions himself between Valerie and me, consoling her like a child.

Despite our outbursts, Valerie appears unbothered and doesn't speak. Instead, she backs up on her own accord, her face devoid of emotion.

As Astor ushers her out of the bathroom, Brittney rushes into the hallway, ashen with fear of whatever just happened. She apparently heard our screams.

I dart out of her line of sight, but not before taking one more look at Valerie.

My eyes narrow.

Game. On.

Twenty-One

Sabine

Astor spends the next hour in the bedroom with Valerie. I have no idea what they’re talking about. Is he confessing his love for me? Is she demanding a divorce? Am I going to be asked to leave? Are we both going to be asked to leave?

Something isn’t as it seems, that much is clear. According to Astor, Valerie is—was—bed-ridden. Due to both the strength of her new medications and her depression. But since I’ve been here, she’s been up three times, once in the garden in the middle of the night, once standing in the window, and now standing at the bathroom door while Astor had his head between my legs.

Why didn’t she respond like most women would? Yell at us, maybe slap us both across the face?

And what’s up with her writing their deceased daughter’s name on the shower wall? Was it a message?

I know Valerie has been obsessing over their daughter recently. Is she communicating something? Is it a clue?

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