Page 91 of Pose for Me
I reach for my phone and check the time. “6:15. I have to be at work by nine.”
“Call out sick,” he demands. “We’re spending the day together.”
Without hesitation, I text my partner and tell her I’m not feeling well and to cover for me. “Done,” I say, grinning up at him.
“Good.” He kisses my nose, then pulls my ankle onto his lap. “You won’t need this anymore.” He removes the pin that keeps the ankle monitor together and tosses the pieces on the floor. “Now that I’m back, I’ll help you sleep.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly choked up.
Ryell hauls me out of the bed and throws me over his shoulder like a caveman. I laugh, loudly and obnoxiously. He slaps my ass, and I laugh even harder, feeling more carefree than I have in months.
When we get into the shower, I force away tears when Ryell goes through our old routine like we haven’t been separated for months. He tips my head back and washes my hair, making sure it’s clean.
“I like your hair longer like this,” he murmurs as he rinses the shampoo out. “Makes you look softer, even though I know differently.”
“I’m plenty soft,” I say, eyes closed and a grin on my face.
He bumps his hips into mine, his hard cock brushing against my own. “Not right now you’re not.” I bark a laugh.
Grabbing my cloth, Ryell washes my body, paying special attention to my hole. I think he’s going to slip a finger inside, but I’m left disappointed. “I want to take you on a date, Lane. Arealdate. If I start playing with your ass, we won’t leave this apartment.”
I pout but say, “Fair.”
He slaps my wet ass, then laughs when I yelp and hold my stinging flesh. “You’re a dick,” I mutter as I turn the water off and step out of the shower.
Still chuckling, Ryell grabs a towel to dry my hair, then wraps one around my waist. He guides me in front of the mirror and picks up my brush to detangle the strands.
As I stare at him, quiet contentment on his face, I have to ask the question I’ve been thinking about since I saw him sitting at the end of my bed.
“Did you kill my parents?”
Ryell stops brushing my hair and meets my eyes in the mirror. We’re quiet for a few beats, the only sound in the room the air flowing out of the vents.
Finally, Ryell nods once then goes back to brushing my hair. “How did you find out?”
I’m don’t know if I should laugh or slap him silly for his nonchalance. Then again, I’m not sure I expected a different response from him.
“They never removed me from their wills,” I say, still surprised by that. “When their bodies were discovered, authorities notified me, and turns out, I’m a wealthy man now. Were you aware of that?”
“No. I killed them for how they hurt you in the past, not for financial gain. Had I known, I would have reported them dead right after I left the scene.”
“Thank you. For killing my abusers.”
“Anything for you, Lane. Anyone else you want me to get rid of?”
Giving him a deadpan look, I ask, “What am I going to do with you, Ryell?”
He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my neck. Moving his lips to my ear, he whispers, “Love me as much as I love you.”
I startle, looking at him through the mirror with wide eyes. When I told Ryell I loved him all those months ago, I said it with the intention of never hearing it back. He said he doesn’t havenormal feelings and emotions like other people, so I thought I’d have to love him enough for both of us.
Hearing him say he loves me too is probably the best thing I’ve ever heard, next to him calling me his boy the first time.
“You do?” I ask, needing to be sure that’s what he said.
He scoffs, but smiles. “Of course I do. I’m threatening my freedom to come back to you. Nothing but love would make me do that.”
I turn around and loop my arms around his neck. “I can quit. I don’t have to work for the FBI anymore. I love my job, but I love you more.”
