Page 28 of Cipher's Baby Girl
"A little," I admit honestly. "But it was worth it."
He seems to accept this, his arm tightening around me. "Need to clean you up," he murmurs after a moment.
Before I can respond, he's easing away from me, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before disappearing into what must be the bathroom. I hear water running, and he returns moments later with a warm, damp cloth.
The care he takes cleaning between my thighs brings unexpected tears to my eyes. His movements are clinical but incredibly tender, his expression focused as he ensures my comfort. When he finishes, he tosses the cloth aside and slides back into bed, gathering me against him once more.
"Sleep," he commands softly, pulling the covers over us both, and I nestle him, my body fitting perfectly against his.
Chapter 10
Rose
Warmth and contentment wrap around me like a blanket as I drift into consciousness. Memories of last night flood back—Cipher's scent, his hands, his mouth on mine. My eyes flutter open to find myself alone in his bed, the sheets tangled around my naked body, still warm from sleep.
For a moment, I simply lie there, letting the memories of last night wash over me. The way Cipher looked at me when he carried me to his bed, like I was something precious he was afraid would break. The way his calloused hands moved with such unexpected gentleness over my skin, as if touching something sacred. The way he called me "Baby Girl" when he was inside me, his voice breaking on the endearment. The soreness between my thighs is a physical reminder that I'm no longer the same person I was yesterday.
I stretch, wincing slightly at the tenderness in muscles I didn't know existed. My fingers drift to my neck, finding spots that feel bruised from his kisses. A strange pride fills me at these marks—proof that last night wasn't just a beautiful dream.
Cipher's absence from the bed doesn't immediately concern me. Perhaps he's been called to some emergency meeting, ormaybe he’s in the other room checking the compound's security monitors.
His shirt lies discarded on the floor where I remember him tossing it last night in his haste to feel my skin against his. I slip it on, the fabric drowning my small frame. His scent envelops me. The intimacy of wearing his clothing sends a pleasant shiver through me.
I step out of his private quarters and into the surveillance room, but the monitors are currently in sleep mode, screens dark.
My reflection catches in a small mirror by the door—hair tousled, lips still swollen from his kisses, eyes bright with something new. I look different. Feel different. A woman who has been claimed by the man she wants. The thought brings a smile to my face.
What happens now? Last night changes everything, right? Am I Cipher’s woman now? His ol’ lady? The idea of belonging to Cipher—of him belonging to me—sends warmth blooming through my chest..
The doorway to his bathroom stands open, revealing a utilitarian space with a large shower. I hesitate only briefly before stepping inside, turning on the water, letting it wash away the physical evidence of last night. But nothing can wash away the memory of his touch, the way he made me feel—seen, wanted, precious.
After drying off with one of his meticulously folded towels, I pull his shirt back on, along with my jeans from last night. My underwear is nowhere to be found. I blush, remembering the way he slid them down my legs, his eyes dark with desire.
The hallway outside his quarters is empty as I step out, my bare feet silent on the cool floor. I have no idea what time it is, but the relative quiet suggests it's early. My stomach flutterswith nervous anticipation at the thought of seeing him again, of the look that might cross his face when he sees me in his shirt.
I make my way toward the main compound, each step creating a pleasant ache between my thighs that reminds me of the night's activities. I catch myself smiling for no reason, touching my lips where his had been. Is this what happiness feels like? This lightness, this sense that everything has somehow shifted into place?
The main area is nearly deserted, just a prospect mopping up spilled beer from last night's celebration. He gives me a knowing nod.
"Morning," I feel my cheeks heat, but can't summon any real embarrassment. Let them know. Let them all know I spent the night with Cipher.
"Have you seen Cipher?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual and failing miserably.
Something flickers in his eyes—surprise? Confusion? Pity? It's gone before I can identify it. "Not since last night," he says carefully.
"Oh." I hug myself, suddenly feeling exposed despite the oversized shirt. "If you see him, could you tell him I'm looking for him?"
His expression softens slightly. "Sure thing."
I continue my search to no avail, and by the time I circle back to the common room, anxiety has twisted my stomach into knots.
“Angel!” I catch her just as she’s about to enter the kitchen. “Have you seen Cipher?" The question bursts from me before I can moderate my tone, my desperation evident.
“Cipher? He didn’t tell you?” Angel's expression shifts immediately from concern to anger. "That son of a bitch," she mutters.
My legs feel suddenly weak.
“What? Tell me what?” I whisper as I blindly settle myself into a chair.
