The bed is so comfortable, the sheets so soft, I actually moan a little as I settle in. The guest bed was nice, but this is on another level. I could… But no, I can’t. I can’t do shit, because I’m supposed to be figuring out how to end Malone instead of wiggling around in her bed like a puppy.
She stalks to the other side of the bed and flicks on the lamp there before moving to turn off the lights in the room.
I pull the covers up higher over me and watch her climb into bed. Am I supposed to say good night? Do we kiss? Do we fuck? I don’t know, and panic over not having a game plan sends my brain swirling in frantic circles.
Malone cuts me a look. “Sleep.” She turns off the light, bathing the room in inky darkness. With the curtains closed, we might as well be in a cave for all I can see. I’ve never been someone who needs a light to sleep, but there’s something about the feeling of the mattress shifting beneath me as Malone gets comfortable that has me desperately wanting to see.
I close my eyes and focus on inhaling slowly and exhaling equally slowly. There was a time when sleep was difficult for me, and so I’ve acquired dozens of meditation techniques designed to help me drift off.
Not that any of them work now, when I desperately need them to. Time turns to taffy, the seconds ticking by in an endless loop. I keep my breathing steady. It’s the one thing I can control, and so that’s what I do.
Malone must think I’ve actually gone to sleep. She shifts, and then I feel a nearly phantom touch against my temple. Her fingers linger for a few moments, and then she withdraws, taking her touch with her.
I don’t understand what’s happening.
Things were fine as long as we didn’t speak beyond kink, but now I can’t stop seeing facets of this woman. How tired she is. How much she bears. How her people seem to respect and even love her.
Did my mother’s people love her?
I don’t…
I don’t know. I don’t remember much of her because she kept me so separate from the world she moved in. I lived with my grandmother even before the fight that put my mother into a coma. My grandmother was a hard woman, beaten down by the world. She’s the one who taught me how to be strong, how to blend in so people would continually underestimate me. Always focused on survival at all costs. From the way she spoke, she thought my mother was the worst kind of fool for grabbing at power beyond her reach. Almost as if she believed my mother got what she deserved because of it.
I exhale slowly. It doesn’t matter. No one deserves what happened to my mother. Malone could have stopped the attack at any time. From the reports I’ve unearthed in the Underworld, she delivered one last kick to ensure my mother stayed down. The doctors can’t conclusively say that last blow is responsible for the coma, but if not that, then what?
Next to me, Malone’s breathing has evened out, her body relaxed in sleep. Now’s the time to move, to climb on top of her and pin a pillow to her face. To do something except lie here and count every breath she takes.
I just need to move, to put myself into motion.
To…17MaloneI wake up with Aurora sprawled on top of me. I’m not sure which of us moved in our sleep, but it’s disconcerting in the extreme to have her body weighing me down. Disconcerting, and also kind of nice. She smells good, a subtle vanilla scent from her lotion. Her breasts press against my side, and her breathing ghosts over my collarbone. She shifts a little, her leg sliding between mine as if she’s trying to close the last minuscule bit of distance between us.
It’s so easy to imagine waking up like this every morning. We’re a long way off from that place, with so many fucking barriers between us, but the promise of something more remains.
I’m not sure what happened last night that put us even more at odds, just like I’m not sure how to retake the distance lost. I tend to go after every problem like it’s a battle to be won, but that approach won’t work with Aurora. She’s just as stubborn as I am, and she’ll dig in her heels and fight me until her last breath if I try to bully her.
No, this will require some finesse. Some…seduction.
Or maybe that’s just an excuse as I trail my fingers lightly over the arm she has thrown across my stomach. Her skin is so unbelievably soft. Everything about Aurora seems designed to entice, from her carefully curated exterior to the flames she hides within. Those flames draw me as much, if not more, than the package that contains them. This woman would be right at home with the Amazons.