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Spencer lied about knowing her over the phone. Now we’re back in London; I need to see him again. If we learn more about Rose and her past, we have a higher chance of finding where she is now.
I printed out the photograph of him and Rose, tore it in half and kept only her face. It’s the only decent photo of her I have. I put it in a golden frame. A reminder whenever I wake up of why I’m doing this, and what I have to lose.
Her face doesn’t look the same now, though. Her nose and jaw are a different shape after her injuries from the accident, but it proves she’s rebuilt herself once. She’s strong, and I can help her do it again.
I raise my head to the water, splashing my face and scrubbing my neck. I recall her soft lips tugging on my ear in the throes of passion, and the tickle of her pointed tongue. My cock hardens instantly, throbbing at the thought. I can’t help it. Thinking of how her body fits so perfectly against mine drives me wild.
I haven’t touched myself since we fucked, but I can’t resist now. I take my cock in my fist, letting the shower lash down on my back like a scorching whip. I shut my eyes, remembering how I took her hardened nipples in my mouth. Her back arched, showing me how much she liked it. I can still taste her sweetness gushing over my tongue, feel the warmth of being drenched in her juices, and see how good her pussy looked filled with my cum. I grunt as I recall pushing my cum back inside her, wanting to keep it there. Wanting… wanting…Fuck.
I use my spare hand to steady myself on the slippery tiles to stop myself from losing balance. Her wet pussy was so tight when it hugged my cock, her moans sending vibrations racing through my body, and I badly wanted to hear them now.
I imagine her. I imagine my cock disappearing inside her and thrusting so deeply that I set up home and don’t let go. My hand pumps harder, quickening my pace, more urgent and needy.
“Mine,” I grunt. My hips shudder. “All fucking mine.”
Because she is. All fucking mine. My cum spills over my hands as I reel from the memories.
Rose isn’t a woman I’ll let go. She’s the woman I want to spend my life with. The woman I want to fill with cum again and again until her belly swells with my growing child. This isn’t just a relationship I’m trying to hold onto. We may not have spent much time together, but I can feel it in my bones that she’s my one. The woman who was made for me. She’s my entire fucking life.
I turn the water ice cold and finish showering with haste, baptised in a renewed clarity and hunger for finding her.
I grab a towel and wrap it around my middle. As soon as I do, the door to the bathroom bursts open, and Seb appears.
“You could have kn—”
“I’ve been trying to call you,” he blasts. His expression is thunderous.
“What happened?” I ask sharply. “What is it?”
His eyes are alight with fire and an optimism I haven’t seen for days. “It’s Rose.”
“Did you see her?” My heart races. “Is she here?”
I half-expect her to be standing behind him with her confident grin and beckon me to join her in bed with her little finger. I should never have let her leave my side.
“I saw her friend, Bethany, at the restaurant,” Seb explains. “She’s spoken to Rose.”
“Is she okay? What did she say?” I bark questions at him. “I need you to tell me everything.”
“From what she said, Rose seems to be okay.” Seb runs his fingers through his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “But Bethany was mad. Rose hasn’t told her anything, but it sounds like she’s messed up after what happened.”
“Fucking Callen,” I growl, directing my anger at the no-good piece of shit I let into our lives because I thought he deserved a second chance.
Torean, Callen’s twin, is a fucking monster. When I met Callen in a pub, I saw potential in him… and this is how he repays me? He’s turned the woman I love into a killer! Rose is strong, projecting to the world she doesn’t care, but I see the real her. Someone who is inherently good, and Callen has tainted that.
“I asked Bethany to give Rose my number,” Seb says. “She might call.”
“You didn’t follow her?” I demand. “How could you have let this chance slip away?”
“What could I do? Chase her while surrounded by the paparazzi?” Seb snarls. “I tried calling you, but it kept going to voicemail.” Guilt stabs at my stomach. I’ve screwed up. Again. I let her get away. “But this is good news, isn’t it? It’s progress.”
“It’s a lead,” I say, strolling to my bedroom to change. “But we still need to follow up on another one.”
Seb frowns. “You don’t mean…”
“We’re going to pay the Bexley mansion a visit.”
This time, we’re getting the truth.
