Page 118 of Severed Rivalry
Drawing her knuckles to my lips, I place a kiss there. “Just thinking about how much better my life is with you in it.”
She sighs, but there’s no exasperation there. Contentment radiates from her. “Thank you.” Her words are quiet and soft but hold weight.
Her house looks fine. We make the block a second time before deciding to pull into the driveway.
Just like the last time I was here, her home is welcoming and warm. It’s clean, though not necessarily tidy. It’s lived in and allows anyone who comes in to do the same.
Sariah moves immediately through the living room to the short hall.
Something is missing that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s missing color that I’ve come to expect with the Ocotea girls. It’s the peonies. That bright pink bouquet dominated the combined kitchen and dining area.
I follow but stop in the doorway to what’s obviously Renée’s room. It’s the room of a teen for sure. Color explosions, clothes scattered everywhere, bits and bobs on every surface.
Sariah’s head whips up. “Mind starting in my room? There’s a suitcase in the closet. I can get the bulk of it but if you grab socks, tees, and sleep pants, we’ll be halfway there.”
I look to the side. “I prefer when you sleep naked.”
A smile tugs at her lips. “Then start with the socks and tees. I’ll pack the pants.”
I stride down the hall into a room I’d never leave had I been invited in in another situation. It’s soft, feminine, and oozes a sensuality that I’ve never experienced before. I mostly stare at it, breathing it in, wondering if we can come back here to christen it.
I pull the closet door open and reach for the suitcase in the corner. What I see directly above it stops me dead in my tracks. My old CSU sweatshirt. My hoodie that she “borrowed” one night and then claimed as her own. It’s folded on the shelf in the back, well-broken in.
“How’s it going—” Her words die on her lips as she finds me staring.
Instead of answering, I slide an arm around her waist and drop my lips to hers.
It was always her for me. And she never let me go either.
“Why Denver?” I ask when I pull back and rest my forehead on hers.
She drops her eyes shut but shrugs.
Squeezing my arms around her, I repeat my question. “Angel, why did you come back to Denver?”
“You know.”
“I want to hear you tell me.”
“Because I wanted to be home.”
“And Denver is home to you?”
Her eyes flick open and blaze with something I can’t name and I never want to lose. “Youare home, Ci. You’ve always been my home.”
I dive for her mouth again while gripping under her hips to lift her. Her legs wrap my waist as her arms round my neck. Shoving her back against the wall, I grind my growing erection to her center.
“I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I only want you.”
“It’s only ever been you,” she says into my neck, and my arms spasm around her.
Everything in my world is set to rights. The earth tilts, true north is reestablished, and she anchors me.
“Too many clothes.” I thrust toward her again.
“Let’s be quick,” she offers, unlocking her ankles and sliding down my front. When she hits her feet, she slides from between me and the door and kicks off her shoes as she lifts her tee over her head.
I’m already shucking my jeans and boxer briefs as the tip of my cock strains for home.
