Page 55 of Sight of Fate

Not like I went searching for him. With a sigh, I shakily pick up the box with my little treasures and brush off my clothes. My phone rings again, and I wince when I see it’s Teague.

“Hello,” I answer, trying to decide what to tell him.

“I heard you call my name. What’s wrong?” When I’m silent, he blows out a breath. “Charli. Are you hurt? Do you need help?”

Not wanting him to turn back, I adopt a cheery tone. “Sorry. I wanted to tell you to be careful.”

“You sure?” he asks in a skeptical tone.

“All good. I’m doing a little shopping,” I tell him. “I’ll talk to you later.” Before he can dig deeper, I hang up.

I don’t want him to return because I got scared. Not when someone else’s life might be on the line. But I’ll definitely tell him when he gets back.

Determined to continue my first adventure in forever, I stroll down Main Street, walking in and out of cute little shops. Surprisingly, I run into several people I know from work. Good thing I brushed my hair and put on something decent. I smile, ask how their weekend is going, then move on. Thankfully, not one person mentions Andros’ rampage.

I reach the end of the shops and pivot on my heel to walk back to my apartment. My neck tingles the entire way as if someone is watching me. Using my fingerprint, I quickly enter the lobby, then swing the door shut and slump against it. My heart is thumping hard in my chest, and my breath is coming in short gasps. A second later, the handle jiggles, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle any noises. I listen to the beeps as someone tries to enter a code. The system emits a negative sound. They jiggle the handle again. I wait. A bead of sweat rolls down my temple. Nothing.

I push off the door and head toward the elevator. I’m really glad Macklin upgraded the system. I wonder if they have cameras? I’ll ask when they get back. I want to know who tried to get in.

In my apartment, I put the pastries in the kitchen and change back into my pajamas. Then I grab my sketchbook and snuggle into the comforter on the couch, losing myself to the series of sketches I’ve been waiting to draw all week. The fierce expression on Macklin’s face as he threatened Maureen. Teague’s heated expression when he picked me up for our date. Andros’ teeth lengthening.

Uneasy about leaving the apartment for dinner, I scrummage around my kitchen for something to eat and eventually grab the can of soup Macklin bought me. And the bottle of wine. On the road, I never let myself drink. Too worried I’d have to escape a peeping Tom, or the police would force me to move. But it was so nice to have a glass last night.

The chicken pot pie soup is basic but filling. I pick up the cupcake, peel back the pretty little snowflake paper, and take a bite. Biscoff creaminess explodes in my mouth, and I moan at the scrumptiousness of it. This is freaking absurd. In all the best ways. The bakery is definitely going on my treat list.

I lick my finger and dab it on all the crumbs until there is literally nothing left, then finish off my glass of wine. Taking everything into the kitchen, I wash the few dishes and put them back in the cabinet. I glance at the crate full of food. Before I can overanalyze, I pick up the jar of peanut butter, spin around, and put it in the cabinet. I stare at it for a long moment, then shut the door.

My phone pings, and I rush into the living room and pick it up.

Teague: We’re here. You doing good?

Charli: Fine. Be careful.

Teague: You too. Sweet dreams.

There’s no point in telling him what happened until he gets back. He needs to focus on the mission. I rub my tight chest, barely able to feel him. Something in me reaches out, needing to connect, and a faint warmth returns. I slowly exhale.

Only six-thirty. This is officially the longest day ever. Flopping down on the couch, I grab my laptop and click through video after video on YouTube. Graphic design, nomads living in vehicles, dating 101, shopping videos. My laptop runs out of juice, and I snap the lid shut and plug it in to charge.

Nine o’clock. Finally. I brush my teeth and turn out all the main lights. Then, I double-check the lock on the door and turn on the microwave light. Snuggling down into the couch, I drift off to sleep.

Bending her back over my arm, I slide my tongue down the deep V until it stops on the gold chain. “Fuck you taste as good as you smell.” Tugging on it with my teeth, I follow it to the mound on the right and nibble on the plump curve. She gasps and arches into my mouth.

My hand slides up and down my cock.

Needing more, I glide my hand up the inside of her thigh until the silk of her panties brushes against my hand. Damp with need. I groan and hook the edge, then slip my finger inside. “So wet.” Her breath hitches, and she spreads her legs wider. What I wouldn’t give to slide into her. Claim her. Complete the bond.

I exhale harshly, stroking my cock faster.

She moves restlessly, little whimpers escaping her throat. I push one finger in, and her low moan brings me closer to the edge. I move my mouth to the outer curve of her other breast and give it the same attention as the first. Adding a second finger, I stretch her, then quicken my pace. She grips my neck as her hips begin to move, matching the rhythm I’ve set. Stroking in and out, I lift my head and watch the flush on her cheeks deepen.

My balls draw up, and a familiar tingling sensation builds. My hand moves faster, up and down, from base to tip.

“Teague,” she begs. Grinding my palm down on her clit, I watch her light green eyes widen and her mouth drop as she comes all over my fingers.

My release hits, and I slap a hand on the tile, breathing hard.

“Teague!” I call out as I wake, drenched in sweat and desire and gasping for air.