Page 92 of Black Curtain

“Coreq wasn’t handling that dragon presence well anyway,” I said, still watching Black’s memories through his light. “I suspect it might have killed him eventually, to be honest. Even without the crazy seer. So he likely didn’t have long to live, anyway. He was never as strong as you, Black. I don’t just mean physically… although being weak in that way probably made it worse. I mean his light. Hislightwasn’t as strong as yours. He didn’t have as much structure as you do. He couldn’t really assimilate the large amount of Dragon God that for some reason chose to use him as a vessel…”

When I looked up at Black that time, he was nodding again.

It struck me to wonder how I’d know any of this.

I realized I probably knew it because, on some level, Black knew it.

I could feel how that might have something to do with the cakes.

It might also just have something to do with us being married.

Black slid closer to me.

His large hands wrapped around my waist on either side.

Before I could take a breath, or really get my head around his intent, he lifted me up, making me gasp. He turned around, still holding me up…

…and deposited my ass on the low counter.

Walking up to me, he began unfastening the front of his pants.

It crossed my mind to wonder if he’d worn a cummerbund and I just missed it somehow, or if he’d lost it somewhere along the way, or––

“No cummerbund, doc.” He finished unzipping his pants. He pushed them down and stepped out of them along with a pair of boxers, and I realized again that all of us were barefoot in here. They’d taken all of our shoes.

Why the hell had they taken our shoes?

That struck me as so odd.

“…Never had one, doc. They annoy me. The jacket just covered it.”

He shouldered off his jacket as he spoke.

I watched him approach, feeling a mixture of relief and anticipation even as I remembered we probably shouldn’t be doing this in here.

“Just once, doc,” he promised, kicking off the last leg of his pants and underwear.

Looking up at him, I grinned.

15

THAT JUST ONCE

He pushed up the long skirts of my dress, yanking down my underwear and pulling it off my legs and then my feet.

He wasn’t particularly gentle about it.

In fact, I was pretty sure that particular pair of lacy silk underwear was now completely trashed. My nylons had already run in several places, and the soles of my feet were black from running around in here without shoes.

I remembered all the care Black’s stylist went to, putting my look together for a second time after I got out of the hospital in California.

Thinking about that, all the primping and spraying and adjusting, I grimaced.

How long ago had that been?

All I knew was, I thought we’d be in Fiji by now, fucking my husband on a beach.

Or possibly in a hot tub.

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