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I don’t really hear what the meal will be, because I’m too busy tearing through the bag, my back screaming as I attempt to bend.

Clean underwear,yes. Clean bra,no. Sweatpants,jackpot.

He watches this with a stunned expression before shaking out of it, taking the clothing from me. “Wait. I was going to clean you up first.”

“Even better,” I mutter, pulling my—his—shirt off.

Or, I try to.

The second I raise my arms, a sharp, pained sound punches from my chest.

He’s there in a flash, saying, “Wait, wait. Jesus, what is with you today? You’re going to open them up again, just let me…” As he eases the shirt over my head, I get a better look at him, relieved to see he looks a little more rested. The bruise on his cheek is nearly healed, and the cut on his lip is barely a scab. Still, his brow is creased with concern. “You have a lot of energy.”

Sharply, I explain, “I’m bored.” But that’s not the whole truth of it. I can’t really explain it, this buzzing need in my body todosomething. Get up, get moving, get clean. It’s driving me crazy, because, “Pace, there’s nothing to do. I want to walk,” I insist, voice thick with the tears springing to my eyes. “I want to go outside. I want to water my stupid fucking flowers and talk to Stella and Ballsy, and I want to tell Lex his porridge is a crime against humanity, and tell Wicker off for being an ass.” My lip wobbles, but I push the sob back. I can’t be losing it already. Ican’t. “I want to go home.”

Pace watches me rant with an expression that turns more and more bleak, and then he’s tugging me forward, whispering, “Yeah, I know.” But how could he? It’s been almost two months since I stood in the parking lot of the Gilded Rose and asked Pace where home was.

I still haven’t found it.

We stand like that his whole visit, my nose pushed into Pace’s shoulder as he strokes my hair.

And then his time is up.

* * *

I’m stillrestless when he returns that evening, determined this time to wash me. I suspect if Pace brought me down a broom and a mop, I’d have this place spotless by morning.

That’s the feeling that’s been driving me all day, only when Pace gets me out of my panties and begins running the wet cloth over my body, another feeling sweeps me up in its wake. The soap smells like Lex. Maybe that’s why a white-hot spike of lust shoots right to my core, even though he hasn’t even gotten to the good stuff yet. He runs the washcloth down each arm, and then my neck, lifting my chin to lock gazes with him.

Holding my stare, he slides the cloth down my breast, cupping it in his wide palm as he gives it a gentle scrubbing. He does the other, and then crouches down, paying special attention to our son as he washes my belly. He presses a small, almost absentminded kiss to it, before moving lower to wash each of my legs.

It’s only when he pushes the cloth between my thighs that I finally break, releasing a hitched breath.

His hair is lush between my fingers as they thread through his twists. “Verity,” he whispers, drawing my gaze down. I wonder what I must look like, my mouth parted with heavy breaths as I rock into the heel of his palm. Suddenly, this is all I want.

No.

Not want.

Need.

“Please?” I ask, not even having half the mind to feel ashamed of it. I know he must feel my slickness—the way my body is preparing to take him in. The thought of his thick cock filling me was once a point of dread, but I can’t remember it. I can only remember those long nights in our bed and the way it felt to be so full and… what was it?

Cherished.

That’s it.

Pace is never buried inside me casually. Every time I hold him inside, he responds with such utter ecstasy, always soothing and coveting in equal measure.

Right now, his eyes are pools of complete darkness, shadowed by the cell. “We can’t.”

I spread my thighs, willing him to understand how much we can. It’s greedy and selfish, but it’s all I can think about. “We did it that other time,” I say, reminding him of the time he was locked down here.

His throat shifts with a swallow, and even though he’s protesting, I don’t miss the way his thumb glides idly over my clit, forefinger teasing my entrance. “That was to make a deposit. It was a part of the covenant.” His jaw goes tight, voice gruff as he glances up at the camera. “If he sees me fucking you, I won’t be allowed down here anymore.” The words seem to bolster his resolve, and without another word, he springs to his feet, wringing the cloth. “Let’s get you into these clothes before you freeze to death.”

The disappointment isn’t unexpected, but the depth of it is.

* * *