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  As my tongue moves up and down her slick sex, I seek out her clit, finding it hard and pulsating, just waiting for some attention. I give it a gentle nibble then slowly circle it with my tongue as my fingers push into her tightness and plunge deep into her wetness. Suddenly, her back arches and her hand pushes on the back of my head to hold me close. I smile against her as moans of satisfaction fill the room.

  “Rafe, that feels so good. God, so fucking good, but please, I need you. I want you inside me.”

  My cock pulsates at the wanton desperation in her voice. Fucking hell, I want the same thing, to slide into her warm pussy, taking and taking until she has nothing left to give. The thought alone hardens me to the point of explosion, but more than fucking her, I plan on finishing her off first. I’m too far gone in her deliciousness, and selfishly, I want more of it. I want all of it until my chin is dripping with her come. I groan against her, and the vibrations on her clit cause her to shudder as I continue my assault on her warm pussy. My fingers pump in and out at a relentless pace while my tongue focuses on her clit. It’s not long before her body convulses and I’m caught in the throes of her orgasm as her grip tightens on my head, holding me in position. Her pussy pulses around my fingers, and she loosens her grip just enough to allow me to move down and lick up the evidence of her release. I suck in every last drop, reveling in the taste of it.

  “Oh, God, I love how you make me come,” she pants, her body slowly calming.

  After one last suck, I pull back and admire her glistening core, more than pleased to have satisfied her so completely.

  “No one’s ever made me come as hard as you do.”

  I grin up at her, licking the taste of her off my lips. “I’m not even close to being done with you, Brie,” I promise.

  “I hope you never are,” she breathes out, her eyes hooded.

  Her words send a jolt straight to my heart. I want the same thing, yet know I shouldn’t. Then again, I’ve never been one to follow the rules, so I push the thought aside and gaze back up at her.

  Watching her come down from her high has my dick aching for the same experience. I stand and scoop her up into my arms before hurrying down the hall and into my bedroom, knowing that, if I don’t get inside her soon, I’m going to erupt. How my dick ever survived without this woman, I’ll never know, and I hope like hell I never have to find out.

  Tossing her onto the bed, I quickly strip and slide a condom on before joining her, all too eager to feel her warmth wrapped around me, tight and wet. She’s waiting for me, a slow smile turning her lips up as she holds her arms out, beckoning for me. Light dances in her eyes, and I can see that she’s just as gone for me as I am for her. I should stop this. But I can’t. I’m too fucking far gone to fight it anymore.

  As I cover her entire body with mine, her arms tightly wrap around me, pressing our naked bodies together.

  “You’re perfect,” I whisper, staring down into her beautiful eyes. “So fucking perfect.”

  Her eyes soften as a sheen of tears fills them, and it kills me to know how long he made her feel anything otherwise. Closing the distance between us, I kiss her tenderly. She moans as she tastes herself on my lips, and when her tongue darts out and laps it all up, she makes it so fucking hard to go slowly. I lift up slightly and push my hand between us so I can cup her breast, loving how soft and full it feels against my callused fingers. My lust increases tenfold as she squirms under my touch, my thumb flicking her hard nub.

  As I shift, my hard shaft nestles between her legs. She rocks and rolls her hips, pushing them up. A low growl escapes my lips as her wet juices coat my length. I rock my hips in unison with her, creating a delicious friction on her clit, eliciting a satisfied moan from her. It’s almost more than I can bear. A primal urge to take her rises in me, and I can’t stand it any longer.

  Lifting up, I raise one of her legs over my shoulder and enter her in one swift stroke, going as deep as I can and then holding my dick steady, reveling in the feel of her warmth enveloping me. Fuck, I’m so worked up that I could blow right now, and I know I need to slow it down if I have any chance of lasting. And fuck me, I want to last until she at least comes one more time.

  I slowly pull out then hold the tip just inside her entrance. She watches me with lust-filled eyes as I drive back into her hot sheath, pushing in slowly this time as her walls tighten around me, fitting to me like the perfect, silken glove. With languid strokes, I fuck her—no, I make love to her—wanting to savor these moments with her. To savor her.

  “More,” she begs as her hands slide up to toy with her nipples, turning me on as she touches herself.

  I’m quick to comply. I thrust into her, increasing my speed, and she rocks in rhythm to my hips, matching me thrust for thrust, our tempo picking up as the sounds of our ragged breathing fill the air.

  “So close, so close,” Brie pants, teasing and twisting her nipples as she gets closer to orgasm.

  Her prompting sends a primal urge coursing through my veins, and I drive into her harder, faster, going deeper and deeper until my balls settle against her over and over again. I’m a perfect fit for her. It’s as if she were made for me. The thought doesn’t help the primal side of me as I pound into her, wanting to fill her up.

  As her body tenses and her walls clench around my shaft, I pump more vigorously, picking up my speed and ramming into her with unrelenting force.

  “Fuck, Brie, I’m about to come,” I spit out through clenched teeth as her pussy grips me even tighter than before. I know I’m not going to last at this pace, and I can’t hold back any longer.

  Her orgasm reaches its peak, and she bites down on her lower lip before letting it go as she moans my name in pleasure. The sight of her in the throes of ecstasy brings forth my arousal, and with one last thrust, I spill into the condom. She comes around my cock with equal force, and I have the insane primal urge to rip off the damn rubber and spill my seed directly into her hot core, letting nature take its course.

  My hips jerk until she’s pulled all of my release from me. As I slowly come back down to Earth, I lower her leg and collapse on the bed next to her. After quickly removing the condom and tossing it in the trashcan beside my bed, I turn back over and roll beside, pulling her into my arms.

  Her perky, swollen breasts press up against my bare flesh, our bodies slick with sweat. I can feel both of our hearts hammering, and for a brief moment, I wonder if she’s ever felt this way before. If it’s ever been this good for her.

  As if she can read my mind, she wraps her loose arm around my back and gazes up into my eyes. “That was . . . incredible,” she breathes. “Every single time with you is better than the last. God, I could so get used to this.”

  Say nothing, Rafe, I think, but naturally, I don’t listen. Brushing my hand along her damp hairline and out of her face, I peer down at her. “I really wish you would.”

  She blinks in slow surprise, her pink, little mouth forming the perfect “o.” “Really?” she asks, disbelief in her tone.

  I nod. “Really. I don’t know how I’m going to let you leave.”

  Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and she swallows as she gazes at me as if she’s trying to determine if I meant it. I do, dammit—even if I shouldn’t. And I hope my own eyes can convey the truth.

  Slowly, a small smile crosses her face. “I don’t know that I’ll ever want to.”

  With that, she bows her head and cuddles up against my chest. We lie there in silence, but our thoughts are speaking volumes.

  I’m in so much fucking trouble.

  And I don’t even fucking care.

  THE REST OF THAT first weekend with Rafe was incredible to say the least. Hell, incredible isn’t even a strong enough word for how he made me feel. How he continues to make me feel. It was so different from our first few weeks together. Instead of raw, primal fucking, he made love to me, and I to him. Just as he’d asked, we gave ourselves to each other and took what was offered in return. It was dual ownership, a
nd nothing has ever felt so right. We spent endless hours in his bed, and I wondered why I’d waited so long to go there. The truth is that I meant what I told him. I never wanted to leave. All too soon, it was Monday, and we were getting ready to go back to Morningstar Estates—something neither of us seemed to want to do. But we did what we had to.

  Weeks have passed with no sign and no word from Adrian—which is more than fine with me. At the same time, I’m eager for his return so we can be on the same page. More than that, I want answers, ones I know only he can give me.

  Rafe enters the trailer and bends downs, greeting me with a kiss, much like he always does. “Afternoon, baby,” he says before turning towards the water cooler and pouring a cup as I admire his strong, firm backside.

  We’ve settled into a daily routine, and I love every second of it. I love how easy and natural everything about this feels. Him. Us. And, finally, me. Our relationship is strong and equal even if we haven’t labeled it or had a serious conversation about the future or what we want. What we have is enough for now.

  I can’t ignore the parallels between the two situations, but I also know there is truly no comparison. While Rafe is technically my boss, he never treats me as such. Instead, he treats me like an equal. He doesn’t stifle me. On the contrary, he encourages me, enables me, and empowers me to find my freedom even if means finding employment away from him. Hell, he’s even encouraged me to try applying to art galleries around the city to make use of my degree. His suggestions of expanding my job search were surprising, yet the idea of leaving Philadelphia and him behind isn’t exactly one I want to entertain.

  We spend our days together—and our weekends at his place—but during the week, he stays with me in the guestroom. I know we’re both probably playing with fire, and at first, I was terrified to let him in the house for fear of what Adrian would do if he found out. Rafe, however, insisted he wasn’t worried, and it didn’t take long for him to break down my defenses. Being with him is worth it.

  “Hey, can we talk?” he asks¸ rolling the chair across my desk out towards me. He looks unsure of himself.

  I frown. Closing the folder, I cross my arms and look at him.

  “Brie, the past two months have been the most incredible of my life. It’s been an unexpected whirlwind, and since the moment I met you, it feels like I’ve barely had any time to myself.”

  My eyes widen, and tears well up. Holy crap. Is he about to break up with me? My heart starts to crack, and then he must notice the look on my face, because he’s up in a flash and kneeling before me.

  He takes my hand. “No. God, no. Fuck. Jesus Christ, that came out all wrong. Let me amend that. I haven’t wanted any time to myself, even if it means staying in that bastard’s house and wanting to break every fucking piece of furniture and goddamned self-portrait on his wall.”

  Before he can continue, I interrupt him and throw myself at him, my arms flinging around his neck and squeezing tight. Then I pull back and shove his shoulders. He laughs as he sits back.

  “You ass! I thought you were about to break up with me!”

  His eyes soften. “That’ll never happen, Brie. For as long as you want me, I’m yours.”

  Tears fill my eyes, and I know that it’s time to truly move on. It’s unfair to him to keep him in this limbo, to expect him to sleep in Adrian’s house night after night.

  “Are you sure, Rafe?” I ask, needing to know he’s one hundred percent into this.

  A small smile crosses his lips. “Brie, I was sure weeks ago, but I didn’t want to push you.” He pauses and runs a hand through his mussed hair. “We both know he’s going to be back soon, and I just think it’d be easier if you’re already gone. We spend nearly all of our time together anyway. So, even if it’s just temporary until you get back on your feet, move in with me. Please.”

  The last word is nearly pleading, and it drowns out any protest. I jump into his lap, then wrap my legs around his waist and press a hard kiss to his lips before pulling back. “Yes, of course! Absolutely!”

  His smile widens, and it melts my heart. How could I have waited this long?

  “And thank you. I appreciate you being patient with me.”

  “Baby, I will wait for you for as long I need to. But thank fuck you said yes.”

  I drop my legs, and he swats my ass.

  “Now, go pack. You’re not spending another night in that house. Tonight, you’re in my bed, and we can test that patience of mine,” he tells me, giving me a wink just before he leaves the trailer.

  I fall back into my desk chair and spin it around in excitement. Finally. Everything’s looking up. The chain holding me to this place is finally gone, and the thought of never having to step foot on this property again fills my heart with excitement. Suddenly, I can’t get out of here quick enough. I turn the voicemail on and log off my computer before racing up to the house to pack what few of my belongings I have left.

  A small trickle of worry seeps in as I realize that this is finally it. What will Adrian do when he discovers I’m gone? Will he truly let me go as he said he would? Or will he try to track me down?

  Does it even matter? I’ll never know what he wanted with me or why things changed so drastically.

  And finally, I can’t find it in me to even care.

  Adrian and I are the past. I’m looking forward to my future.

  It doesn’t take me long to pack the stuff I actually own—which isn’t much. As I glance at my keys, I wish I hadn’t let Adrian talk me into trading in my car. I wonder what happened to the old pile of junk, and without thinking, my legs drift down the hall.

  As I enter Adrian’s office, I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for or where to even find it—whatever it may be. I know that it’s wishful thinking, but perhaps he still has the title to my car and there’s some way I can get it back.

  I lose track of time while searching through his desk, and I almost give up when I find nothing of importance. Letting out a deep sigh of disappointment, I glance around the room one last time. My eyes fall on an old edition of a Merriam-Webster Dictionary. The binding is faded, and I assume that it must be outdated. But still, it caught my eye for some reason. Pushing back from the desk, I walk towards the bookshelf. The closer I get, I see that, while it’s worn, it’s not dusty and looks as if it’s been frequently used.

  “Use your words, Gabriella.” His voice echoes from the recesses of my mind.

  Could it really be that easy? Would he actually have given me a hint to his hiding spot, or has he just been taunting me all along? There’s only one way to find out. Still, even as I reach my hand out, I hesitate, unsure if I really want to know. Curiosity wins out, and I pull the dictionary off the shelf, gingerly fingering the spine. Slowly, I turn and open the book, flipping through the pages. My eyes widen when I get to the “G” section. A small hole is cut out in the pages. Inside, a small key is taped to the interior. I know exactly what this opens.

  Unable to control my curious nature, I remove the key from the book. I push the bookshelf aside, unsurprised when it moves as easily as it did when I discovered it. For a few moments, I stare at the previously hidden door, turning the key over and over in the center of my palm. What lies beyond that door? What am I going to find? Do I even want to find it? So many questions, and part of me wants to turn and leave, but knowing I’ll never be in the house again, I decide to satisfy my curiosity before I leave.

  Taking a deep breath, I push forward and slide the key into the lock. It’s a perfect fit, just as I suspected. I slowly twist it, unfastening the lock. As I open the door, I hold my breath. Then I frown when I step into a small room. It’s only the size of a small closet, and it’s nearly bare. The only thing occupying the room is a small filing cabinet against the side wall. There’s another door directly across from this one, which I assume is for the tunnel in Adrian’s plans. I make a mental note to ask Rafe if that’s been completed yet.

  The cabinet beckons to me as I wonder what Adrian co
uld have that would need extra hiding. My fingers tremble as I pull it open. It’s full of files, as one would assume, and I start flipping through them. I’m finding nothing before, suddenly, my fingers freeze when I find two files that take my breath away.

  Latham, Andrew.

  Latham, Gabriella.

  My blood runs cold at the sight. Why the hell would Adrian have files on my father and me?

  I slowly pull mine out and open it, gasping as news articles fall into my hands. Each article is about the robbery and my parents’ deaths. One is about me, the lucky daughter who was away for the weekend, at a life-saving spa weekend. Skimming through it, I remember this article, the one that claimed I was so lucky that I wasn’t home.

  The next article shows a photograph of me from the funeral, dressed in all black and sunglasses to hide my red, puffy, bloodshot eyes. My heart races as I notice the circle around my head in bold, red marker. What the hell does this mean? As I continue to browse through the file, I begin to feel sick. There are more photos of me from the subsequent months. Photos of me on campus at Northwestern. Photos of me leaving my parents’ attorney’s office. More from the day my parents’ killer was given a plea deal. Hell, there’s even one from the day I packed up my things from the house, and when I moved stuff into a storage unit.

  Then the scenery in the photos change. They show me in Philadelphia, at my new job, my favorite coffee shop, and right outside my studio apartment. Finally, the last photo in the stack is from the day I met Adrian. My blood chills as I wonder just how long he was watching me. Why? And does this mean our meeting and the subsequent relationship was contrived?

  I sink to the floor and get lost in the photos and articles, trying to unearth some hidden clues. I’m shocked to find my college transcripts and the receipt showing that my loans were paid in full. The last paper in the stack is a list of Monet paintings, and as I scan it, I realize we had reproductions of each one in our house. My eyes widen when I see Mom’s favorite one circled. None of this makes sense.