Page 71 of The Keeper

“Well, just so you know, things are straight with Easton and me.” I grab a vitamin water from the fridge and drop it in my bag, then steal of bite of Kenzie’s egg roll. “Yum. That’s good.”

“Oh my God. Did you remember?” She claps her hand like a giddy cheerleader, and I just smile until she pulls out her phone, and then a text pops up on mine.

“What did you do, Kenz?”

“Watch that with E when you get a chance, okay?”

“What is it?” I ask with a funny feeling.

“Just trust me and watch it with my brother. Now go. I’ve got another chapter to get through before I can go to bed, and Ireallyneed to go to bed.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” I slip Myrtle’s leash on her collar and take her with me down to Easton’s condo.

It’s smaller than ours. A traditional two-bedroom with an open layout and a big balcony overlooking one of the small rivers that feed into Kroydon Lake. Movers may have brought his things in, but they sure didn’t unpack. There’s a ton of boxes in his family room and a new leather couch with the tags still attached up against the white wall.

I decide to explore further and walk into the smaller bedroom. The furniture in here was clearly brought in from his place in Vegas. Worn and loved. There’s a wooden desk Easton’s had in his room for as long as I’ve known him.Officeis written on the outside of the boxes in a handwriting that’s clearly not Easton’s. I assume he hired a service to pack his place up and move it across the country.

I peek inside the box and pull out a framed picture of Easton standing between his mom and Jules. Kenzie sits on E’s waist, and everyone is cheesing for the camera. It’s a great shot, so I stand it up on his desk and smile.

I wander further down the hall to the master bedroom and find a new box spring and mattress sitting on top of a big platform bed. I run my hand over the California king mattress and tear off the tag, then open up the big box next to it and find the sheets.

Looks like it’s time to do some laundry.

* * *

Two loads of laundry later, I’ve got his bedroom unpacked. His clothes are hung up, his bed is made, and the little bit of toiletries I could find are on the counter in the master bath. His big bed is covered in flannel, like some sort of lumberjack’s. But it’s soft and smells like fabric softener, tempting me to lie on it for just a few minutes. I curl up on my side and close my eyes. Just for a minute. Just a little rest.

That’s what I told myself. But the already dark room is pitch-black when I feel the bed move next to me before I’m wrapped in my husband’s massive arms. His smell envelops me, and I hum, feeling happy. “What time is it?”

“Late,” he whispers against my ear, sending warm tingles down my body. “My flight just got in, and I got your message to come here and not your place.”

I roll over and rest my cheek against Easton’s bare chest. He smells like soap and sandalwood, and my body roars to life as I wrap myself around him. “I missed you.”

“You look so fucking sexy in my jersey, baby.” His warm lips press against mine, and I sigh and tangle my legs with his. Easton’s hand slides up my bare thigh and stops on my bare hip. His eyes heat and darken. “Do you have anything on under my jersey, wife?”

Butterflies take flight in my stomach. I run my fingers down Easton’s delicious chest. Heat blooms inside me, emboldening me. “How about you find out for yourself, husband.”

He shifts between my legs, and goosebumps dance down my skin, tiny little fires sparking to life everywhere they touch.

He slides his hands up my ribcage and cups both breasts in his big, rough hands, gently squeezing before his thumbs brush over my pebbled nipples.

A bolt of lust tugs deep inside me.

“Easton,” I pant, not sure what I want except that I want it all.

“Seeing my name and number on you is so fucking hot, princess, but I need this gone.” He shoves my jersey up and over my head. Strong lips press against my throat. Hot and heavy. Licking and sucking his way down to my collarbone. He nips at my breasts, and his teeth scrape my nipples. He’s everywhere as he worships my body.

Our heavy breathing becomes the only thing daring to break the silence of the night.

The snow outside practically glows iridescent white from the balcony, leaving us otherwise bathed in darkness.

He shifts down, and I spread my legs when his mouth finally finds its way to my pussy, and he blows a hot breath against me.

I look down at his dark eyes and crooked grin and can’t look away.

Easton Hayes is intoxicating.

He gives me a confidence I’ve never had before, and I love it.

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