CHAPTER 67 (2)

I step between his legs, letting him pull me close. His low growl of approval has the hairs lifting on my neck even before he traces a finger down my back above the dress.

My fingers reach for his belt, and this time he doesn't stop me until I work it off. He lifts me and carries me across the living room and up the stairs.

"Pretty sure your contract forbids you from carrying women up stairs," I say, genuine fear in my throat as we ascend even though his strong arms don't shake once.

"You gonna tell on me?" he teases as we reach the top.

He doesn't stop but walks me right into the master bedroom where I brought my suitcases earlier and sets me on the massive bed.

He kneels over me, lifting my hand to press a kiss to the back. "I've been thinking about how I want to do this all month. Take my time with you. Remind you how good we are together." Then he drags my dress up and presses two fingers between my thighs. "But I've spent my life waiting for you. I can't wait anymore."

He strips the dress off me, and I work his clothes off until he's glorious and naked in front of me. A savage god, but one who knows his own weaknesses.

I want to kiss and touch every inch of him. To take him in my mouth until he groans in approval, opens those impossibly dark, familiar eyes to slits from above me, and says I'm it for him.

"Wait." I scramble out from under him to get my birth control pills. "You meant what you said about wanting kids, right?"

"Yes."

He watches, curious, as I hold the half-used package of pills over the garbage.

"Do it." His voice is a rasp.

I let them drop, and the second I do, he's on me.

He drags me to the bed and pins me beneath him. I'm already so turned on before he shifts between my thighs, nudging me wider so he fits at my opening. The feel of him pressing inside is unreal.

I hope I never get used to him.

"New. Every fucking time, you feel new," he murmurs against my hair.

He builds me up, finding a punishing rhythm.

"I'm probably not getting pregnant tonight," I pant.

"Gotta practice like we mean it."

Once we both come, he holds me against him, our hearts racing together, before he goes to the bathroom.

A light comes on-his phone on the table. I reach to flip it over but catch sight of the notifications.

Dozens of notifications. Emails from lawyers.

I feel sick.

Even if he doesn't have to address all of these, the entire world is demanding his attention.

I set the phone back on the nightstand, but the gnawing in my gut hasn't gone away by the time Timothy returns to bed.

"You okay?" he murmurs as he shifts in next to me, sensing my stiffness.

"Yeah." I nod.

He wraps his arm around me and falls asleep.

As much as I want him, there's been distance between us since I arrived. It won't be eliminated tonight.

I reach for my necklace with the promise ring and the rose pendant.

It's not there.

The piece of jewelry I've had since my first summer with Timothy that's been with me even when he wasn't. It gave me hope when I had no reason to hope, and clutching it in my fist has always renewed my faith-in the world and in us.

I run a hand over the bedside table, then check the bathroom.

Without turning on a light, I pull on a robe and head outside to the yard. I had the necklace in the pool.

I'm fifteen minutes into my frantic search when the gate sounds.

Startled, I bolt around the house to find a woman in a blond wig and sunglasses smoking a joint.

"Rica, you scared the shit out of me. How was your set?" I manage once I recover from the surprise.

She pulls off her sunglasses but doesn't answer.

I frown. "That bad?"

"The set was good." Her voice is unusually tight. "Why're you up by yourself?"

"I was looking for my necklace. I must've lost it in the yard today."

She follows me to grab flashlights. We split up in the bushes, her taking one end and me starting at the other.

"Guys are assholes." The night air carries her voice.

I stiffen, not crossing to her because I don't want to shut her down but working my way closer, my hands skimming the grass. "Maybe it would help to talk about it."

"I said I'd play another night, and I will. But whoever owns that place needs a wake-up call."

I've learned pressing with Rica is like pressing against a concrete wall, but I'm concerned. We all have to deal with hurdles working in this industry, some of which range from gray issues to things that would turn your stomach.

"Gotta remind myself if you have your own back, you never need to worry about who else does."

The earnestness from my friend makes my chest twinge.

We find nothing in this half of the yard, and eventually I meet her back at the patio.

Rica nods toward the pool chairs. I kneel down, peering under one chair, then another.

I eventually find the necklace caught in the pool filter, the clasp broken. Somehow, the ring is still on it and the pendant. I dry it on my outfit and fold it in my hand, heaving a sigh of relief.

But when I stroke a finger over the pendant, my stomach sinks.

"It's broken. I've had it for seven years." I fold it in my fist as if I can squeeze it back together. The feel of the broken pieces against my palm has tears stinging the backs of my eyes. "It's not a big deal."

The spark of light behind me has me turning. Rica's parked herself in one of the chairs.

I drop into the other chair, stretching my legs out and surveying the city lights that twinkle like defiant man-made stars.

Rica holds out the joint. "That's why you're still out here. Because it's not a big deal."

I take it, and Rica shifts back, tugging off the wig and unpinning her hair until it falls around her shoulders. We sit there smoking, the cool breeze prickling along my skin.

"It is only a necklace," she says after a minute. "He'd buy you another one in a heartbeat."

I sigh. "I know it's stupid. But it's kind of irreplaceable." The night breeze lifts the hairs on my arms. "You don't think you'll ever meet someone who makes you cry over a necklace?"

Rica lets out a low chuckle before shifting forward to stare at the city.

"No such guy."