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“Fuck,” I bark, pushing to my feet and looking around. “Doll?” I call again. “Alana?”
But there’s nothing.
I run through the house, checking each room. My panic grows with each one I find empty.
She has to be here. She has to.
We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. We’re safe here, we’re sa—
My fears are suddenly halted when I run back outside to check the deck again when a figure appears down on the beach.
My steps slow as I approach the railing at the edge of our deck, my eyes locked on her.
She’s still wearing the oversized hoodie I put her in before we left Reid’s manor last night, but she’s shed the leggings and boots so that she can walk through the shallow waves as they crash against the sand.
Fuck. She looks so perfect down there lost in her own head.
There is no one else, nothing else, for as far as the eye can see.
It’s almost exactly what I pictured when we used to talk about our future after Harrow Creek.
I stand there for the longest time as she walks the entire length of the beach and then back. Nothing but the ocean and the birds flying overhead can be heard.
She looks so peaceful, so content.
If only that were the case.
6
JD
Ahappy noise rumbles in the back of my throat as I wake up, memories of the moments before I fell asleep coming back to me.
My dove.
Fuck. She’s so fucking perfect.
Everything she does. How fucking strong she is, how she doesn’t take any of our shit. How incredibly fucking filthy she is.
My morning wood jerks as I remember just how it felt to sink inside her. Tight, wet… Ecstasy. Fucking ecstasy.
If I could have that for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t need any other kinds of highs, or distractions. She’d be enough.
She’d keep me level, balanced… happy.
A contented sigh spills from my lips and I roll over in search of her warm body. But as I reach my hand out, all I’m met with are cold sheets.
“Dove.” I groan, already mourning the loss of her hot little body.
Shifting to her side of my bed, I bury my nose in her pillow, breathing in her scent and trying to ignore the little voice in my head asking when I gave Alana one-half of my bed.
I lie there listening, hoping that I might hear her in my bathroom. Even better if the water starts running. Not sure there’s a better way to start a day than a nice round of shower sex.
With need for my girl growing, I throw the sheets off the bed with such vigor, that the paperwork strewn across my desk flutters, some sheets falling to the floor.
I catch a brief sight of the notebook I found and promised Alana that I’d write in.
Oh yeah, filthy shower sex with my dove sounds like the perfect way to start it off.
