Page 88 of Five
His rear jiggles with every step he takes to the shower.
If his compliance is fake, I need to be sure he doesn’t stalk me again.
I send a text back to Meg telling her I’m on my way, and then fire one to Rami asking him to let me know if Lori moves. I know my brother is busy, but Serena can do it, and I need to know that Lori is safe while I go talk to Meg.
I hear Lori mumbling something as he enters the shower stall.
“Are you talking to yourself?” I ask, unable to leave him like this.
“Of course, I talk to myself. I need expert advice. Just like you do.” He sends me a glare. Is he implying that I should listen to him more? Or Bez?
Me, Bez states.
I stalk to him, every step unrushed and deliberate. Until I cross over into his personal space without hesitation, halting with my hand on the shower door that he tries to shut in my face.
The sexual tension burns between us, crackling and sizzling in the air. His rapid breaths make my blood heat, and all I want to do is take and take. Take him.
I drag a blatantly proprietary gaze over his face, cataloging each feature and filing them in my memory. He looks entranced. I lower my head as he lifts his. It feels like a powerful force is inescapably pulling us toward each other. Our lips press together, his warmth floods from his mouth to blanket my entire body. I pull him closer, wrapping an arm around him, and swipe my tongue over the soft dip in the middle of his lower lip.
I need his taste like I need oxygen to live.
He nips my tongue before opening up for me, and I dive in. So damn perfect. I want to taste myself inside his mouth, but I like it better when it’s all Lori. I grab his nape and move his head until I find a better angle as our tongues tangle together with passion and force. He attempts to dominate me as usual, but I bite his lip hard, enjoying his moan. And just as he gives in, I suck on it and break the kiss. My hand lifts to tousle his hair. His curls slips softly between my fingers.
With my lips on his forehead, I order him, “Don’t go out.” I point at the condensation blotting out the window because of the vicious storm raging outside. Then I let him go and leave the bathroom and the apartment.
I clench my fingers tightly as I try to keep the sensation of his silky locks on my palm.
“Gabriel,” Ferdinand, the butler greets me in the entrance. He’s been a steadfast figure in this house since I was a kid. I can see the time passing in the wrinkles around his eyes and the bald spot on his head. “The missuses are waiting for you in the first-floor office. Should I bring a coffee?”
“No, I won’t stay long. Thank you, Ferdinand.”
“Very well.” He bows again before closing the door behind me.
I make my way through the foyer and pass the many closed doors, turning right in the corridor that will take me to Meg’s office. It’s raining too hard to see a clear view of the back garden from the many windows on my left. The leather soles of my shoes sound squeaky on the waxed floors, and the marble columns look shiny under the artificial lights.
Meg’s door is ajar, and I can hear Uri’s heated voice from inside. “I’ve been looking for years, fucking years, and now I discover that you actually saw him.”Him?
“I’ve been looking as well as you, traveling all around,” Linda replies, using a cool tone. “Hecame to me and then disappeared again.”
“He doesn’t want to be found, Uri,” I hear Meg’s psychiatric point of view. “Give him time.”
After a few seconds, Uri asks, “What did he tell you?” He sounds calmer but still threatening.
“The first time, he was waiting for me in my hotel room in New York. He told me Phoenix is dangerous and to be careful, before jumping out the window of the sixtieth floor like a damn bird. Yesterday, he appeared outside the house gates.”
“Serena mistook him for you, Uri.” Rami’s statement is even more confusing. Who are they talking about?
“We should tell your brothers. They deserve to know.” Meg sighs.
“He asked about you, Uri,” I hear Linda say after a moment.
The heavy silence that follows confirms how serious this conversation is. I shouldn’t keep eavesdropping. I push the door open and make my presence known.
My foster mothers are sitting on a sofa, looking like day and night. Meg with her black and white hair tied tightly at her neck, big glasses covering her dark gaze and the shadows underneath. And Linda with her blue doe eyes, freckles on her pale skin, and straight, loose blonde hair.
Uri is standing near the blue fireplace, wearing jeans and a green sweater. I think I saw his clothes on a model in some fashion magazine a few days back. Rami is lying down on the other sofa, hands behind his head, a tight t-shirt showing his huge pecs, and the jeans he wears are tearing at the seams on his trunk legs.
“Gabriel.” Meg gives me her warm smile. She’s lost more weight. Her lupus seems to have gotten worse even though she always tells us she’s fine. I’m sure Rami checked with her doctor. I need to talk to him about it.
