Light streams into my room, a sore feeling making me smile. It feels like he’s still in me. I roll over…but to an empty bed.
Of course it’s empty, Jane.
I made Thatcher leave at 3 a.m. exactly, and I didn’t ask if he wanted to stay longer. We have structure for a reason. My bodyguard can’t be caught sleeping with me, and I’m not going to put his job in jeopardy.
But there’s no harm in just imagining mornings with him. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to wake up to Thatcher in my bedroom. And my mind whirls, recalling all the moments of yesterday. He made an eerie, cold night safe and warm and loving.
I stretch my arms out, and then rub my eyes. Focusing on Thatcher’s side of the mattress. Made neatly already. Pink duvet pulled up, tucked in, and smoothed. On the pillow rests a yellow sticky note.
I prop myself on my elbow and read his legible handwriting.
Thanks for last night. See you in the day.
I feel my smile beneath my fingertips, and I notice a little arrow drawn underneath the word day. I flip the note over, more words on the back:
Coffee is downstairs.
He must’ve put a timer on the pot, so it’d brew around the time I normally wake.
No one has ever left a note for me. Not like this. My heart swells, and I stare longer at the note like it’ll disappear in my fingertips.
This is a Cinderella dream that’ll end, but I want to remember it all later. My favorite moments, these magical nights and days.
I scoot off the bed, slipping my arms into my robe, and I tie the belt around my waist. With the tug of my vanity drawer, I find a square tin and toss out the cotton swabs. Gently, I place the note inside and snap the tin closed.
Not letting this one fade.
35
JANE COBALT
“The condom broke,” I whisper to Thatcher, the ripped latex in my hand. I’m sitting on my vanity, my legs spread wide open for him.
Our bodies glistening in sweat, pulsating, and we do our best not to breathe loudly. He’s sheltered so many of my gasps just tonight. I think he’s the only man I’d want to cover my mouth. Because I know he’d only do so for my safety.
Right now, he’s buck-naked, incredibly masculine and confident, even as I said a phrase that would panic most.
Thatcher takes the condom out of my grasp. Inspecting it in the dim lighting. Only a candle lit on the nightstand. I hadn’t even tried to sheath his long erection yet.
I glance down. Bulging veins spindle along his hard shaft. He stands intimidatingly like he’s a man on guard in an ancient epic tale full of brawn and heroism.
I hold his round ass with two hands. “I must’ve torn it when I tore the wrapper.” Thankfully it didn’t rip while we were having sex. I wish I could say this is the first time I’ve failed at unwrapping a condom, but it’s sadly not.
Thatcher nods, lowering his voice. “It’s unusable.” He cups my sensitive heat, soaked. My body aches for his length. For that fullness.
He steps back, bending down and closing my knees together.
I pulse and watch him place the ripped condom in the trash bin.
We’re both trying to be painfully quiet. It’s much easier for him. After Moffy was close to catching us in bed the other night, we know we need to be more careful.
Thatcher can’t be in my bedroom that early ever again. And we’re already running out of time tonight. It’s 2 a.m.—one hour remaining.
“Where’s the box?” I murmur.
“That was my last one.” He doesn’t seem alarmed. His experience cloaks me like a hot blanket, and I want to wrap it tighter around my body.
Thatcher rises to his feet and dips his head down to me. Listening as I speak. Because he knows I’m going to suggest something.
“There are alternatives,” I whisper. “I could put you in my mouth.” I brush my fingers along his cock. “And then you could put a toy in me.”
His lips brush against my ear. “I could also go grab a condom so that I can thrust deep inside you.”
My hips arch towards him, and my hands fall to the vanity surface beside me. “Yes…I agree.” Really, I want .
He kisses my temple, and I ogle him as he walks buck-ass naked over to the rug. He bends down and picks up his boxer-briefs, and it hits me that I have no idea where he’s going.
I stand off the vanity and quickly find a clean pair of panties on the floor. I step into them. “Where are the condoms?”
He lifts the elastic to his muscular waist. Walking towards me, he whispers, “My brother’s room.”
My eyes widen, and I snatch my pair of jeans off the vanity stool. “There’s a higher probability you’ll run into a bodyguard if you return to security’s townhouse.” I hop into my pants and snap on a bra.
“Jane, Jane .” He catches my wrist, drawing me more against his chest. “Explain.”
I fit my arms through the sleeves of my sequined blouse. “It’ll be much easier for me to just grab condoms from Luna’s room.”
During the beginning stages of my sex hiatus, I gave all my condoms to Luna. I thought I’d have no use for them.
And Luna has recently begun to adopt the one-night stand tactic like her older brother used to.
“I know your size is in there,” I whisper to Thatcher. “And Luna’s bedroom is barely five steps from my door.”
His brows harden. “She could ask questions. Like why you need a condom.”
“So could Banks,” I say quietly.
Our heads turn at a sudden noise. It sounds like paws pattering up the stairs.
Thatcher focuses on me. “Banks learning we’re having sex has less consequences. My brother will keep his mouth shut.”
“It’s not like I’m asking my brothers, who would inquire unto my untimely death. It’s Luna,” I whisper. “If I tell her I need one just in case, she won’t bat an eye.”
He checks his watch.
“She might not even be in her room,” I add. “You running in and out of security’s townhouse has inherently more risk. You could bump into Akara or Quinn.”
He’s a natural leader. He makes calls and executes, and I’m a valuable asset in our mission to have intercourse.
He sees this. “Be careful.”
“I will try.” All dressed, I put my hand on the doorknob.
“Jane,” Thatcher calls out under his breath, but I hear the firmness. “Your shirt.”
I stop and look down.
Sure enough, my yellow sequined blouse is inside out.
“Merde.” Heat bathes me as I remove my top. Hurry, Jane.
I spin around for him, arms outstretched. We inhale. We both stare at one another like we ache to be nearer. Me wrapped up in his arms. His cock inside of me.
Less than an hour left.
He mouths, good to go.
I slip out of my room.
Muffled voices come from downstairs. I tiptoe softer, wooden floorboards creaking, and I strain my ears. I had no clue people gathered downstairs.
They weren’t here when Thatcher snuck over, and he’s going to have a harder time sneaking out.
I hear a familiar voice, but I can’t distinguish words.
My brother.
Beckett.
He must be stopping by to see Sulli, his best friend. He could have a rare night off from ballet rehearsals. It’s not unheard of.
I catch a recognizable laugh and snort.
Sulli , most surely.
I smile and close my door gently. Carefully, I head over to Luna’s bedroom. Directly across the landing. I knock. “Luna?” I whisper.
There’s no answer. If she brought a one-night stand over, Quinn Oliveira would be outside her door on-duty. But so far, she hasn’t hooked up with a stranger in this house.
She goes to their place or a hotel.
I don’t believe she went out tonight. So I’m assuming she’s with Beckett and Sulli downstairs.
Search the room.
Find the condoms.
I try the knob. The door is unlocked.
I easily step inside—I freeze. Luna is under the neon-green sheets on her bottom bunk, but her face is exposed. Her lips in an O . And by the other body shape and movement happening under the sheet, she’s not alone.
A guy’s head is definitely between her legs.