Page 45 of Hot Blooded
I imagine Mrs. Potts asking about my trip, and making me tea and fresh-baked scones. The whole kitchen will smell like cinnamon and cloves. The tea will be piping hot and delicious, and she’ll sit with me while I eat.
I imagined Reign lifting my hand to his lips and pressing a kiss there while his eyes danced wickedly on mine. I wanted to make plans with Lena again. I even wondered what Alastair had gotten into while I was away—surely some type of mischief.Reign would watch me with fascination while I drank my tea, stroking my hair, or caressing my spine. He was always touching me in some small way—it made me feel cherished and precious and very much wanted. Maybe part of it was due to the lack of affection I’d had while growing up, but I loved being lavished with his attention. I loved feeling wanted.
I turn the idea over in my mind. And as I board my plane and sit on the tarmac, I wonder what I would find once I returned.
It’s late when I get back. I’d texted Reign to let him know I’d be back tonight, but he hasn’t replied to the message. I knew how unreliable he can be with a cell phone. Technology baffles him. I shake my head.
I let myself inside and take off my shoes. After setting my bags and purse down in the mudroom, I venture off in search of Reign. After spending my days rotating between a lonely budget motel room and my mother’s sad little house, it’s almost jarring to be back in Reign’s opulent home. Not that I could have forgotten the fine details after only a week away, but they’re sharper now. The grand, marble hallway seems longer, the ceiling higher. The artwork more impressive.
Not seeing Reign, I continue my search. The house is dark and quiet, but it’s only around ten o’clock, so I’m assuming he’ll still be awake. I hear the low murmur of voices coming from the media room and I head off in that direction. It’s a room on the first floor that I’ve never been inside of before and have never seen Reign use.
When I enter the room, the first person I see is Alastair. He’s seated in the middle of the large sectional sofa, his head is leaning back, his eyes are closed, and he looks totally relaxed.When my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, and I see that there’s a woman kneeling on the floor between his feet. His hand is tangled in her pink hair as her head moves up and down over his lap. It’s Lena. On her knees for Alastair. My stomach drops and tingles race through my body. I should not be seeing this. A wet noise catches my attention, and my eyes flash over to the other sofa on the far end of the room.
Reign.
I’ve been so distracted by the erotic act Lena is performing on Alastair, I had yet to notice Reign sitting at the opposite side of the room. But when I realize what’s happening, my knees go weak. There’s a woman beside him and she’s leaning close—lifting her wrist to his mouth. She looks drunk with pleasure as he feeds from her. His eyes are closed, and his expression is serene.
With a muffled sound, I turn and race away. I don’t want to see anymore.
I’ve thought I belong here. I’ve gone home to deal with a terrible task, and all I’ve been able think about is getting back home to Reign. But I’m not special or missed. I am very, very replaceable, and knowing that stings. Deeply.
Reign catches up to me at the winding staircase, and his fingertips clasp around my elbow.
“Tressa.”
I turn and face him, tears already streaming down my cheeks.
“It wasn’t what it looked like…” he begins. “I didn’t touch her. I would never…”
“I saw you, Reign,” I cut him off, frantically wiping at my cheeks.
Talk about being caught red-handed. I watched his throat move as he drank from her. And now he’s going to try and tell me he wasn’t touching her?
I’ve always valued the honesty between us—our game of “one truth” that we’ve invented right from my first days here. Now all of that seems meaningless. My heart aches.
“Tressa, please.”
Noise in the hallway catches our attention, and I watch in stunned, fascinated silence as Lena and Alastair make their way out of the den together. Alastair is decent now, with his pants fastened and carrying himself with ease. Lena’s cheeks are flushed and her normally smooth pink hair is a mess. The other woman, a tall blonde with impressively arched eyebrows and a floral tattoo on her forearm trails behind them. My cheeks burn with my irritation.
“Call me anytime,” the blonde woman purrs.
Alastair directs her to the front door. “I don’t think that will be happening, sweetheart.”
Reign bristles.
Good Lord, this is awkward.
“Hi, Tressa,” Lena says, somewhat shyly. She doesn’t normally have a shy bone in her body, but maybe knowing that I just witnessed her giving my boyfriend’s brother a blow job has brought on a sudden dose of modesty. She works on smoothing her hair, running her fingers through the tangles.
“Hello,” I say, stiffly.
Alastair doesn’t look the least bit put out. A crooked smile adorns his mouth and his hand rests at Lena’s lower back. How typical of Alastair not to be bothered by anything. I feel like I could hide.
“Do you want to stay for a drink, or shall I walk you home?” he asks her in a low voice, petting her arm with his fingertips.
“I think I better get going,” she says, wisely reading my reaction to tonight’s events. I’m not in the mood to entertain, or exchange even a greeting with Lena right now.
“Very well,” Alastair murmurs, retrieving her coat and helping her into it. A moment later, they depart through the front door together, leaving Reign and me alone in the vast, empty foyer. It’s utterly silent. And cold.
