Page 43 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

Now, her body sated, relaxed, and tired, her mind muddled and confused, Jessica can’t take her eyes away from the door. When Godrik climbed out of bed and started to get dressed, she didn’t know what to do. She remained stretched out in bed, watching as he donned his clothing in such a way she believed he was doing his clothes a favor, instead of the other way around. When he was finished tucking in the hem of his shirt, he returned to her only to plant a wet kiss in the soft sensitive spot just behind her jaw and beneath her ear. He’d made it all the way to the door, had his key in hand, when she realized he was going to leave without saying anything at all.

“Wait,” she recalled herself saying, her voice hoarse as she sat up in bed, covering her chest with the sheet. When he turned to look at her, his perfectly blue eyes softer and warmer than she’d ever seen them, she realized she didn’t knowwhatshe wanted to say. Frantic for an excuse to get him to say something, she spotted the robe he’d given her at the foot of the bed—the robe he’d stripped off after orgasm number two—and snatched it up with her free hand. “You forgot,” she murmured feebly, her eyes catching his once more.

“It’s yours.”

That’s all he said before he was gone.

It’s mine.

The thought circles itself around her mind over and over again. Part of her wants to bring it to her face and bury her nose in it so she can breathe in the scent ofthem. In the back of her mind, she finds this to be an odd desire—but that realization is dwarfed as she remembers the power of Godrik between her legs, the weight of him on top of her body, and the taste of him still lingering on her lips. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she brings the robe to her face and drops her nose into the lacey material. She doesn’t think about putting on her underwear. She doesn’t question what time it is, or how many minutes tick by as she replays the sensual kiss Godrik delivered before he left.

When Stefano knocks on the door before entering, her head shoots up and her eyes fly open in search of his. As soon as her brown eyes find his hazel ones, the fog of her post-orgasmic daze is shattered.

For a second, neither of them speaks. Neither of them moves. Unlike the previous two times he’s come to collect her after Godrik’s departure, the expression on his face broadcasts his careful assessment of her, filled with caution mingled with guilt. It isn’t lost on her, even in the silence, he’s trying to figure out if she’s still whole, or if his dove is broken.

Finally, Stefano asks, “Are you okay?”

If his presence broke the daze, hisvoiceshatters her guard. Suddenly, there’s a knot in her throat she can’t fully explain. It hurts her to swallow it down, but she does, offering him no more than a nod in reply.

“Get dressed, my dove. I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

She offers him another nod in response and then he, too, makes his way out the door. As Jessica slides from between the sheets, her limbs start to tremble. She can’t exactly make sense of what her body is doing, but she doesn’t try to figure it out. Not now. Not within the walls of Clandestine’s. She finds her panties and slides them on before doing the same with her bralette. She doesn’t think twice about putting on the robe Godrik gifted her, wrapping it around her tightly and securing it with the solid, silk belt. She doesn’t bother with her heels, anxious to be out of the room, but hooks the straps between her fingers before grabbing the satin robe she’d worn into the room.

As she steps out into the hallway, she tries to ignore the question which brings a wrinkle to Stefano’s brow. To do this, she shifts her attention to her feet before she starts to make her way down the hall. He doesn’t protest but locks the door behind them and catches up with her.

They’re silent all the way to the ready room. Jessica doesn’t know what time it is, and she doesn’t much care. All she’s aware of is the room’s vacancy. As they approach the vanity station where she’s left all her belongings, she reaches for her oversized purse, focused on grabbing the t-shirt and jeans she wore upon arrival. When Stefano rests a warm hand on her shoulder and gives her a squeeze, she swallows. She’s trying so hard to keep her thoughts at bay. It isn’t until she feels the saliva barely find its way around the knot in her throat that she realizes it’s still there.

As Stefano starts to pull away, she stops digging through her belongings and grabs his hand, keeping it on her shoulder. After a moment, he turns his wrist, positioning his hand to be able to wrap his fingers around hers. She grips him tightly and then finds her voice.

“Can I—can I stay with you tonight?”

She’s still shaking; why, she can’t explain, but she needs the time and space to figure it out. What she doesn’t need or want is to wake up in the apartment with her mother if she is still losing her shit.

Stefano doesn’t speak a word. His clothing rustles before he’s dangling a key to his place in front of her. “I won’t be long. An hour or so. Leave the light on for me, yeah?”

Again, she nods as she takes hold of his key. He then presses a kiss against her hair at the crown of her head before he lets her go. When she’s alone, she goes through the process of getting dressed without looking at herself in the mirror. Certain, at the very least, her hair must be a disaster, she finger-combs her limp curls into a high ponytail before she takes her leave. By the time she’s made it out into the warm city air, she’s so ready to be away from the place, she wastes no time hailing a cab. Twenty minutes later, after she’s paid her fare, Jessica finds herself entering Stefano’s apartment building at 365 Bond Street.

Since he started working for Beatrice, he’s moved up in the world. Or, more accurately, he’s scaled up. When he moved out of the apartment they once shared, it didn’t come as a surprise to Jessica. She knew Stefano was high class. While she’s sure he could afford a place in the neighboring borough, she also knows he’ll never move there.

You can take the Brooklyn out of the boy, but you can’t take the boy out of Brooklyn.

Backwards, but true.

As Jessica rides the elevator to Stefano’s fourth-floor luxury apartment, she embraces the measure of comfort she feels being someplace familiar. Someplace safe. Someplace where she’ll always find love.

Stefano lives in a corner unit, the tall windows that flank his small kitchen and adjoining living room looking out into the street. His curtains are open, but this doesn’t stop Jessica from dropping her bag on his sleek, glass, four-seater dining room table before she starts stripping out of her clothes. She leaves a trail of her belongings in her wake, and she’s naked before she reaches the huge master bathroom—or, at least, huge for an apartment in Brooklyn. She opens the door to his glass enclosed walk-in shower, turning on the water before she steps aside in order for it to heat up. She frees her hair from a ponytail only to twist it into a tight knot on top of her head. As soon as it’s secure, and the water is hot enough to steam up the glass, she steps under the spray.

It’s in the shower where all the thoughts she’s been shoving to the side start to overpower her. She clinches her fists and closes her eyes, trying to remain calm as she let’s the water sooth her. It’s no use. Her thoughts are too frenzied to allow such a thing. She remembers Godrik’s kiss. The feel of her fingers in his hair. The feel of his beard as it scrapped against her soft flesh. The cut of his body, and the strength he possessed. Her belly tightens and her eyebrows knit together as she recalls the way he fisted her hair and kissed her deep. The way he refused to accept her attention, too busy showering her with his. The soundhemade whenshecame around him, and the look on his face when he toppled into ecstasy right along with her.

And there it is, she admits with a gasp.

A chill races down her spine, and she releases her fists only to wrap her arms around herself. In spite of the heat steaming up the bathroom, she shivers at the realization that she liked it.

No…I didn’t.

Her eyes fill with tears.

Damnit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.

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