Page 47 of Out of Control

“But we won’t worry about that for the rest of the night because I don’t want your brain thinking about anything else except how fucking talented my tongue is and how amazingly deep my fingers can reach.”

He began to prove exactly that.

nineteen

Lucas

The feel of sunlight against my eyelids was unfamiliar, but I wasn’t worried. Even if my brain was having a little trouble catching up and figuring out why I felt different, the rest of my body wasn’t alarmed. I opened my eyes and understood why life still felt good, even if I wasn’t sleeping in my own bed.

I was in Athena’s house, naked in her bedroom. I rubbed my jaw, shifting it back and forth as I stretched the muscles. I stuck out my tongue, twisting and rolling that as well, seeing if it still worked after last night. I wasn’t used to giving it that much of a workout, but it was worth it to have the memory of Athena splayed out before me and at my mercy embedded in the back of my eyes.

Athena was on our side, was a good person, and, most importantly, was wholly mine. I felt confident that if I played my cards right, she wouldn’t be leaving me any time soon.

A shiver ran up my spine at that feeling of possession. I didn’t even feel any sense of dread over her possessing me just as completely right back.

The only thing wrong this morning was that Athena wasn’t still lying with me. I remember spooning behind her as we fell asleep, her curves fitting perfectly against me, my hand resting on her breast like the two parts were made for each other, but her warm body wasn’t pressed against me anymore.

I sat up and stretched, rolling my neck this time. “Come back to bed, Athena!” I called out, finally standing up. Where did my boxers go? “I know you’d prefer if you could walk today, but I’m not done having my way with you yet.”

I rolled my neck again, stretched my stiff fingers, as I waited for her reply. When she didn’t answer after a minute I tried again, strolling naked down the stairs to look for her. “Don’t make me take out the handcuffs, Athena. You’ve been a good girl so far, but don’t think there won’t be consequences if you don’t—”

My eyes landed on a note on the kitchen counter.

I’ll be back soon. Athena.

I flipped the note over, confused. Was that all there was? My phone dinged from wherever I left my pants in the living room and I went to retrieve it, still holding the note. Did she run out for coffee or something? She really shouldn’t have left the house by herself and, spotting the bulletproof vest I gave her a couple days ago, wholly unprotected. I felt a pit in my stomach, but Ifinally found my pants so I fished the phone out of the pocket, unlocking it to check my notifications.

There were a few emails that I would need to take a closer look at. A couple missed calls from Mark Rosenberg, but he and his voicemails could wait.

Finding Athena was more important.

I suddenly realized that I didn’t even have her phone number to call and see if she was alright. I felt that I knew her—deeply, utterly—but I hadn’t even known her long enough to ask for her phone number. I had the resources to figure that out quickly enough, but I figured I’d give her a couple minutes before I started panicking. She was smart, self-sufficient; she knew better than to put herself in more danger. She was probably just getting some fresh air. She’d be right back.

I wandered over to her whiteboard displays, admiring all the research she compiled and the effort it took. Even if I had an assistant I doubted I'd have anywhere close to this level of organization anywhere in my life. That took some serious dedication.

I looked over the timeline displayed on the center board, noting the events color-coordinated based on relevance. I shook my head in amazement as I read from top to bottom, amazed at all she uncovered from half-assed notes, doctor files, and thinly veiled threats. She was amazing.

I was still glorying in her intelligence when I read the final entry: a second interview with Carlo and Angelo Morelli at 9:30 am today. On a Saturday? Why?

That sinking feeling returned as I checked the time on my phone again. It was five after nine. Athena wouldn’t really go back to their offices without telling me, would she?

I paused, standing stock still. Because she would. She really would.

I swore, pulling on my pants and looking around desperately for my shirt. Screw finding the boxers.

My phone rang again. I rolled my eyes when I saw Mark’s name, but figured it was probably easiest to answer. He could be a persistent ass when he wanted to be.

“What? I’m in the middle of—”

“You’re in the middle of a high-profile investigation that’s going to shit and you don’t answer your phone? What the hell were you doing all night long?”

My hackles were raised. Who did he think he was to be lecturing me?

“Who I was with isn’t important.”

“Who?” he repeats. I could practically hear his eyebrows raising. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Damn right it doesn’t.”

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