Page 86 of Free to Run
“What are you doing here?” she whispers as she blows her hair out of her eyes—eyes so magnificently blue, they look like they drained the sky to feed their color.
If I’m lucky, one day our children will have eyes that color.
Shaking the runaway thought from my mind, I drop my hand from my cock and prowl over to her. “We finished the case.”
Much to my surprise, her face freezes. “Does this mean you’re leaving?” she whispers.
“No, it means we’re going into the city to celebrate. I just decided to start a little early.” Seeing her head drop in relief, I tug her toward me and notice the fear easing. “Hey, what’s this? Alison?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just a little leftover insecurity, I guess.” She gives me a smile. “Where were we?” She reaches for my cock, but I stop her hand.
I don’t think so. “I think we’re going to go somewhere different than what I was originally planning.”
She tilts her head. “No sex?” Her voice is now rich in amusement.
I pull her close to me as I lean her back on her bed. “No sex. I plan on taking care of you, and then I want to take my woman for a night out.”
And as I drop my head toward hers, I proceed to use my mouth, my hands, and my lips to drive Alison out of her mind. Soon after, she reaches her peak and falls over the edge. I pull her close into my side and let the relief of the day wash over me. Holding her tight, our breath synchronizes, and within minutes, we’re both dozing in the early-afternoon sun.
Holding on as if we’ll never let go.
35
Keene
“Ican’t believe I’m finally in your place,” Alison hums as she walks around. She reaches the picture of Cassidy and I dancing at her wedding, which I replaced after Melody trashed my condo. Smiling at it, she moves to the next one. She stops at a collage of photos in a window-paned frame. Looking over her shoulder, she asks me quietly, “Your mother?”
I put down the spoon I was stirring the pasta with and walk up behind her. Sliding my arms around her waist, I confirm, “When she was pregnant with Cassidy. I figured it was appropriate they were next to each other.” Her arms resting on top squeeze mine in support.
I need her to know that now and forever, her heart is the only one mine will ever need. I don’t need a harem of women like my father. I won’t walk away again. What we have between us is all that matters.
Looking at the pictures of my mother, I know how.
“Come on, dinner’s just about ready.” I squeeze her one more time before letting go. She smiles at me before sliding onto one of the new high-back barstools.
My decorator tried to find as many pieces that resembled my old place as possible when I explained I’d had a break-in, even down to frames and photos. Unless you were a frequent visitor to my condo, you’d be hard-pressed to tell there had ever been an incident in here.
It still doesn’t feel like home anymore. Home is Alison’s house.
Stirring the sauce into the pasta, I wonder if she’ll let me hang up some of my frames with the ones in her place when we eventually merge homes. Whistling to myself, I pick up a bottle of red wine and turn to where Ali’s holding the picture of me and Cassidy at her wedding.
Her face looks sad.
“What is it, baby?” I ask. Walking over to the counter, I hold up a bottle of red wine. She shakes her head. “Still feeling off from being sick?” Alison merely shrugs. I reach in the fridge for a bottle of San Pellegrino, pour each of us a glass, and hand her one before I plate the pasta. Carrying the pasta around the bar, I sit next to her and nudge her knee with mine, encouraging her to continue.
“I miss her. I miss Em and Phil too, but Cass was more like a surrogate mother to me,” Alison says quietly. “Being hurt because of the way they treated me at work has led to this rift I just can’t quite close.” Putting her fork down, she turns toward me. “I feel like I just don’t belong there anymore.” Alison shakes her head and turns back to her plate. Stabbing her fork into her pasta, she swirls it around before she takes a bite.
I haven’t noticed anything at the office. “It’s been fairly quiet. Maybe they’re just trying to keep things professional since Caleb and I were there,” I offer as an alternative.
She snorts. “Please. If everything was the way it normally was, Phil would have been sending us penis balloons or some crap.”
I put down my fork. “Is it acceptable to take a hit to my manhood and admit I’m glad penis balloons weren’t delivered to the office while I was there?”
Alison scolds me. “Stop it. You make it sound like Phil scares you.”
“Phil scares me,” I joke. “I’m afraid he’s going to start modeling marshmallow fetishware at the next family dinner.”
I said that right as Ali took a drink. Somehow, she manages to hold it in and swallow before she lets loose a peal of laughter. “If I were Em, that would have ended up in your face.”
