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She sat on the end of the bed, wiggling her fingers in a ”come here” gesture, and like a mouse to the Pied Piper, I couldn’t resist. I shrugged off the suit jacket and button up, coming to her in dress pants and undershirt. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but if I was going to treat her with any respect tonight I needed to keep the damned pants on.
The plan was to lie with her for a little while, assuage any of her worries or loneliness, and move back to the too-short couch for the night, but when I sat down next to her, she pivoted into my lap in one fluid movement.
“Rachel,” I gritted out between my teeth, trying not to think of how her pussy, clad only in panties, was rubbing against the erection I couldn’t convince to go down. “This is not happening after you’ve been drinking.”
“Just a goodnight kiss,” she purred, hair a curtain around us as she leaned into me. Her hands cupped my face in a motion that was so tender it cut through the carnal sensuality humming between us.
I didn’t argue as she lowered her mouth to mine, first brushing her lips over mine like a whisper before kissing just the corners. She was gentle and slow, everything I wasn’t able to be this afternoon. Running my hands under her shirt and up her back, I stopped there, even though I was inches from cupping her tits. There was a frighteningly thin line between the sweetness she was giving me, and the desire threatening to consume both of us.
When she kissed me fully, nipping at my bottom lip, I pulled her closer until we were chest to chest. Her clever tongue mapped the entirety of my mouth, and I let her take her time. She made small sounds as we kissed, curious and needy. I held back from ravishing her by a single fucking thread.
It could have been minutes, or hours, I wasn’t sure, but when her movements on my lap became restless, moving against me in search of relief, I had to grab her hips to still her.
“Not when you’ve been drinking,” I told her, enunciating each word, even as my cock surged upwards. I was harder than I’d ever been in my entire life.
“I’m not drunk,” she insisted for the third time, trying to swoop back down into a kiss, but I turned at the last second so she caught my cheek.
“You’ll thank me in the morning. Lie down. I’ll hold you for a little while.”
She fuckingpouted, like the idea of me not fucking her was the most disappointing thing she’d heard in days. It was the first time in my life that I’d ever hated being a good man. If I had been just a little more irreverent, I’d have been inside her in seconds, but I justcouldn’t. She was too important. She meant too much.
“Fine,” she groaned, rolling off me and crawling under the blankets. I had to take some time, clenching and unclenching my fists and breathing slowly before I could move. I wouldn’t turn her down and then snuggle up to her with a hard on. It wouldn’t have been right.
When I’d regained a semblance of restraint, I moved into place behind her, suit pants and all. The stupid pants were probably my saving grace a few minutes ago.
She fit against me perfectly, like it was where she was meant to be, her ass tucked into the cradle of my hips like a puzzle piece. Rachel was warm and soft, and now that she was horizontal, sleepy.
“I like this,” she sighed contentedly. “But I think I’m going to doze off.”
I kissed the back of her neck, whispering into the shell of her ear, “Go ahead. You’ve had a long day.”
“I can’t ever thank you, Gunner. You’re just …more than I ever deserved.”
My throat was suspiciously tight when I answered, “No, sweetheart. You deserve everything, but I’ll stick around as long as you’ll have me.”
She simply said, “Okay,” the word trailing off. She was asleep in seconds, her breathing even and slow.
I held her longer than I should. She was asleep, so she’d never know how long I stayed, but holding her while she slept was simply a selfish gesture. I did it because I wanted the night to drag on, because in the morning, it was back to the real world.
Eventually, I slid out of bed and did my own nightly routine. She only mumbled, not even coming close to waking up. Once I’d brushed my teeth and changed into pajama bottoms, I tried to go to sleep, but the combination of the day's events combined with the frame of the couch digging into my back kept me awake.
As quietly as possible, I grabbed my phone and slipped out onto the balcony, planning to look over all our information from the day and see how many museums we could cover tomorrow. Outside, the air was still warm, but the breeze made it pleasant. The city was active even at this late hour, and being out of the bubble Rachel and I had made for ourselves allowed my head to clear. Just like I was afraid of, she was clouding my thoughts, but I had a hard time resenting it.
I hadn’t been outside long when my phone vibrated in my hand, the screen flashing ‘UNKNOWN NUMBER.’ I almost sent it to voicemail, but something told me not to. Every tiny thing has been essential lately, and there was a chance this call could be yet another important bit of information.
I answered, and it took a minute to connect, like the call was being rerouted before clicking in. When I said hello, the voice that answered made my blood run cold. I shot to my feet, on high alert.
“Repeat that?” I demanded.
“Gunner Stone, head of Stone Security, older sister of Penelope Stone, married name Penelope Curtis, and son of—”
“Yes,” I interrupted. “And who the fuck is this?”
“I’ve been looking for something for quite some time, something that was taken from me, and my informants tell me that you’ve been doing all the difficult work for me. Is that true, Gunner Stone?”
The man’s voice was not particularly deep, but oily and cruel.
I responded, “I’m going to make an educated guess and say this is Shadow of the Dark Hand Syndicate. If you want to talk, you can always meet me in person. I’ve got some things I’d love to discuss.”
