Page 9 of Sinful Reality

He takes my clit between his lips and clears my mind of any coherent thought, captivating me in our world ofjust us-nessand refusing me freedom until, with just a single finger pushed into my pussy, I come on a quiet whimper of release.

Sometimes, we’re wild and loud and frenzied. Other times, we’re soft waves brushing against the coast.

“I love to drink you up,” he groans, replacing his digit with his tongue and lapping at every drop of release I give. “It’s my favorite way to start the day.”

“Archer…” Breathing heavily, I set my feet on his shoulders and lift my hips from the bed because pleasure ripples in my veins like tiny sparks of electricity. “God.”

“I love you.” He bites my clit and inserts two fingers, drawing me closer to another release. “I love you so fucking much. It makes me sick in my stomach when you’re not here.”

“Come here.” I reach under the blankets and snag the wedding band hung around his neck. A gift from me, after his gift of forever. Tugging on it, though carefully, I drag him along my body and groan when his cock nestles between my thighs. “I want to come with you inside me.”

“Mm.” He fists his cock and slides the tip through my folds, collecting moisture and taunting us both with what could be. Then, without words, without any of the usual filth he speaks when we’re together, he slips inside and captures my lips with his, swallowing every sound I make. My breath. My pleasure. And then he rolls his hips and leads us on a journey ofus. “So fucking tight.” He nibbles on my lip and nips at my chin. My neck.

I tip my head back to give him room to suckle at my flesh. “So good.” I fist the sheets and open my legs impossibly wide to allow him closer. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” He glides over my body, dragging me toward my peak, his perfect scent filling my lungs and, magically, his very presence, emptying my mind. “Love you forever. You’re my penguin.”

Waking without taking stock of anything outside my room is a blessing.

Dissociation, too, is a gift.

Showering with my husband is a bonus, but just as soon as I leave the safety of the steam-filled bathroom, with fresh clothes on and my hair wrapped in a towel, I make the mistake of turning left, toward the living room, instead of right, toward my bedroom.

Reality slams down on me the way anvils took out Wile E. Coyote.

I skid to a stop on the hardwood flooring, my socks almost being the reason I end up on my ass, then I press a hand to my belly when nausea decimates the pleasure I began my day with. My head swims and anger roars in my veins, not because of the man-boy sleeping on my couch, with one leg on the coffee table and both arms somehow on the floor. I don’t even care about his stinky gym bag strewn on the kitchen counter or the shoes and socks tossed by the front door.

Cato Malone is a messy house guest who simply won’t go away, and yet, it’s the stack of case files neatly piled by the coffee machine that has fingers scraping along my throat and down to grab onto my heart.

I forgot.

For a single hour, while Archer feasted upon my body and brought ecstasy to my soul, I forgot about the floor that fell out from beneath my life yesterday. After years of silence on the Diane Philips case, I forgot about Janiesa Sawyer. Perhaps my forgetfulness was my subconscious protecting me for just a little longer. But now reality is back, and the happiness I woke with is nothing more than a long-ago dream.

While Archer goes to our room to finish preparing for his day, I move in silence and make my way toward the coffee machine. I could get here with no eyes, no ears, no sense of smell, and nothing to rely on except muscle memory. But I don’t snag a mug and set it beneath the spout like I do every other day of my life. Instead, I select the file on top, a pile Cato must’ve tidied and put aside so he could sleep, and open the manila cover to find Diane’s smiling face from more than twenty years ago.

Her toothy grin is like a punch to my gut, though I’ve seen this picture a million times in my life. I could draw her every freckle frommemory. Every wispy strand of hair. I could trace the shape of her teeth, even the one missing, front and center, and I could almost taste, if only I allowed myself to do so, the sweet scent of her breath.

I just know she enjoyed candy before her life was torturously and terrifyingly stolen from her.

“I was thinking we could go out for breakfast,” Archer murmurs, wandering into the living room and completely blind to the way I jump from momentary fright. I swallow the sickly feeling that ‘going out for breakfast’ puts in my throat. The idea of eating makes me want to puke. The thought of sitting in a diner and laughing over scrambled eggs and coffee makes me want to scream.

“You need something with protein.” He moves to the door and collects his brother’s shoes, then the gym bag, before walking them to the couch so they’re out of our way. “Our machine coffee is good, but coffee from a restaurant is better. I could show you this place I haven’t taken you yet, and then I could drop you at work on my way to the station.”

I flick through the pile of files and search for Janiesa’s, pulling it out and setting it down beside Diane’s.

Two girls. Two photos, taken twenty-five years apart.

If Diane had lived, she would be old enough now to be Janiesa’s mother.

They look similar, though not the same. Both were five years old at the time these photos were taken, and both had lost their front tooth to the Tooth Fairy soon before.

I stroke Janiesa’s picture and lick my dry lips, knowing I should skip coffee altogether and opt for water. But it’s when Archer steps up behind me, his chest pressed to my back, that I close the files and lay my hand over my skittering heart.

“I was having a whole conversation with you, Mayet. But you keep getting sucked into this world.”

“I’m not?—”

“I’m gonna support you through this. I’ll call Soph and pull information from my contacts if I can, and I’ll feed them to you if I think it’ll help. But you need to figure out a way to extract yourself from this case, because if you’re not careful, it’s gonna eat you up and spit you out.”

---