AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So needy,” Jesse murmurs, slipping a hand between my thighs beneath the sheet. My legs fall apart as if he commanded it, and a low grumble vibrates in his chest as his fingers glide over the slick flesh of my sex.
“Jesse,” I groan when his fingertip skirts around my clit, denying me the touch I so desperately need.
“Always so wet for me,” he says, the deep, purring timbre in his voice driving me to new heights.
He’s teasing me mercilessly, pulling his finger away when I tilt my hips to chase his touch with that sensitive bundle of nerves. I growl and drop my hips back to the mattress, and Jesse chuckles as he finally relents, driving two fingers deep inside me while pressing down on my clit with this thumb.
“Come,” he says before I can react.
An orgasm rips through me, and Jesse covers my mouth with his, swallowing my scream of ecstasy as his tongue slips inside to brush against mine. He pumps his fingers slowly, drawing out the aftershocks of my release until my body melts into the mattress, kissing me gently the entire time.
Pulling back, he gives me a tender smile. I return it, and he pecks a kiss against the corner of my mouth before pulling his fingers free and hugging me close.
“I love you,” he whispers into my hair, and I murmur the words back to him.
Releasing me, he hops out of bed, saying, “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
“Okay,” I reply, snuggling my head deeper into the pillow.
He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the water turn on. I try to hold onto the pleasurable memories of what just happened between us, but thoughts of yesterday’s trip out to the Grundelier homestead quickly encroach on my bliss.
What does it all mean? Why would the magic still present in that place show me that particular scene?
I’m convinced the child’s name, Eve, is the key factor, especially after talking to Bernadette and finding out Bethany’s mother shared the same name. The correlation between “Eve” and “Eden” is too strong to be a mere coincidence.
The water turns off and Jesse comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist. With one glance, either at my face or my aura, his smile drops like he knows my mood has changed drastically. Forcing a wan smile, I climb from the bed. I give him a quick kiss as I pass, then head into the bathroom to use the toilet and take my own shower.
By the time I finish, I’ve decided.
“I’m calling family services in Asheville,” I announce as I grab some clothes from my suitcase.
Jesse is already dressed and sitting on the bed he must’ve made while I was showering. He gives me a firm nod as if he expected as much, then watches me with a thoughtful expression as I get dressed for the day.
“Do you think they’ll still have records from when you were found as a baby?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “But it’s the only lead I have right now.”
As soon as I’m dressed, I sit down on the bed next to him, my thumbs tapping at my phone’s screen. I find the number for the department of family services in my hometown, and I pause. My whole life there seems like some kind of an alternate universe, a dream that feels like a memory rather than the real thing.
I haven’t been gone that long. It’s only been a few weeks since I packed my bags on a split-second decision and followed Jesse from Georgia to California. But everything is different now.
I’m different.
That’s an understatement. When I left Asheville, I was a normal woman. A romance author who holed up in her apartment for months on end, creating fantasy worlds teeming with mythical creatures.
Now? Now the creatures are real, and I’m some heretofore unheard-of combination of them. A witch-vampire hybrid.
Tapping my thumb against the phone number to place the call, I lift the device to my ear and shoot Jesse a hopeful look. He leans closer and drops a comforting arm across my shoulders.
When a woman’s voice answers the call with a short introduction that proves I called the right number, I clear my throat.
“Hi, my name is Eden Walsh. I was found abandoned in your jurisdiction as an infant, and I’d like to request records with any information regarding my intake and placement in the foster system.”
“Certainly, Miss Walsh,” the woman says. “There’s a form on our website you can fill out to request the documents. Please answer the questions as accurately as possible, and our office will find the information and email it to you as quickly as possible. You’ll also need to upload a copy of your photo I.D. so we can confirm your identity.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling a twinge of disappointment that I won’t be getting any answers right now. “How long does the process take?”
“It usually takes one to two weeks.”
