Page 64

? ? ?

I awkwardly glanced down at the wide staircase we had previously walked up, my heart pounding in my chest as I stood behind Monroe.

I tried to be calm and act relatively normal.

I mean, what's the worst that could be behind this door?

I'm sure it's not anything too bad.

Insane... maybe?

Monroe isn't the most stable person, but she's open about everything with me.

So why is this the one thing she's kept hidden?

That's a red flag, right?

I glanced over when I heard it.

A click.

It echoed through the quiet air.

Then, a soft creak from the tall door, Monroe calmly pushed open.

I drew in the deepest fucking breath of my life, forcing a smile when she turned her head and met my stare.

Fuck, why am I this scared?

I suddenly stepped forward when Monroe motioned her head at the open doorway, my body stiff and my shoulders bunched up.

I unconsciously squeezed my eyes closed as I walked past the open doorway, inhaling the familiar jasmine scent.

"Jesus, Liberty," I heard Monroe softly chuckle, sending goosebumps down my spine, "You can open your eyes, darling. I assure you, it's nothing frightening."

I hesitantly opened my eyes, pursing my lips into an awkward smile when I noticed her beside me first—with the most beautiful amused smile on her lips.

I glanced away from her, blinking a few times as I took in the long, wide hallway.

There were the same marble floors throughout—the walls tall, and the sconce lights on the wall dimmed perfectly.

But the walls weren't lined with the typical curated artwork in the main areas of the house.

No.

These were framed photos, all in matching frames, and perfectly even as they lined the hallway.

"Monroe," I whispered, unconsciously walking to the nearest framed picture. "Oh my gosh," I breathed out, smiling so wide that I showed my teeth.

But how could one not smile at the adorable picture of Monroe as a toddler, clinging to the woman's leg?

Monroe's face was half hidden behind her leg, her hair blonde rather than the dark color it is now, pulled into a neat high bun.

She had this coy smile while the blonde woman looked serious, poised even.

Her shoulders were rolled back, her chin held high, and her hair pulled into this intricate bun.

She wore a knee-length white dress and sharp stilettos while Monroe stood beside her in a matching white dress and tiny shiny flats.

It was the cutest thing ever.

Aside from the serious woman beside her.

I'm almost positive that's her mom.

My smile grew wider the longer I stared at the photo, with Monroe standing silently beside me.

I could feel the weight of her stare against the side of my face, gauging my reaction.

I never wanted to look away from the adorable photo of her, but I also wanted to see the rest.

I unconsciously took a few steps down, looking at the next picture of her.

Monroe looked maybe nine or ten, standing by a silky black horse with stables behind her.

She wore a polo shirt tucked precisely into white pants with a helmet on her head.

Her hair was in a French braid, resting against her shoulder.

She looked... serious in this picture.

The smile I previously witnessed was gone.

Instead, she stood with high posture and a neutral look.

I took another step down, looking at the next picture of her.

Monroe was older in the next one, maybe fourteen or fifteen.

She stood on the steps of what looked like a private academy, wearing a perfectly pressed navy blazer with a golden crest stitched onto the pocket.

Her plaid skirt hit just above the knee, and her legs were crossed at the ankle like she'd been told to pose that way.

A thin smile sat on her lips, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Her shiny hair was much longer now and dyed a chestnut brown, slicked back into a ponytail with her bangs framing her face.

I blinked a few times as I analyzed the photo for a moment longer, still feeling the weight of Monroe's stare on me.

Yet she didn't say a word.

Monroe just stared at me, calm and calculated, waiting for what I would say.

I took another step down instead, wanting to see more of the photos.

She was older again, eighteen, maybe?

Monroe was dressed in an all-black gown, standing with her back to the camera and her face turned slightly over her shoulder as if she'd just caught someone calling her name.

A pearl necklace rested neatly against her spine, her soft lips painted a deep red.

The setting behind her was even more dramatic... a ballroom.

There were golden chandeliers, high ceilings, and couples waltzing in a blur while she stood still.

Monroe's light eyes were slightly narrowed, like she was already bored with whatever event it was.

"You look really pretty," I whispered in awe, staring at this foreign version of her. "You also look unhappy," I added with a small smile, glancing over to finally meet her stare.

"I despised those debutante balls," Monroe murmured, her eyes trailing my face.

She didn't say anything else, but the look on her face—how she's looking at me...

I could tell she had so much more to say to me.

"Why don't you have these photos downstairs?" I asked, taking a step toward her.

"I don't prefer reminiscence," Monroe explained as I ran my arms around her neck, leaning into her warm body, "But I am human, Liberty, so I reminisce whether I would like to or not."

She paused, blinking a few times as her eyes trailed my face for a moment.

I remained patiently silent, feeling like she had more to say.

But Monroe just blankly stared at me for a moment, her eyes sinking into mine.

Until she suddenly exhaled a deep breath, glancing away from my eyes entirely.

"I keep it all separate up here," she whispered, her voice softer with me, "I like to think it gives me control over it all. I get to choose when I want to return to this part of my life."

I blinked a few times at her deep explanation.

Sure, this is all hidden away, but it's to empower Monroe—to organize her past life in a corner of her house.

I wonder if her brain is organized like that, too.

"I think that's beautiful," I suddenly whispered, leaning in to hug her tightly, even if she hadn't bothered to wrap her arms around my waist.

I can tell she feels far away from me whenever she exposes fragments of herself like this.

"You're so beautiful, Monroe. Your thought process, the way you organize your life, or keep control," I said, my words muffled against her chest as she stood stiff against me, "I get you, and I enjoy getting other versions of you."

Monroe didn't say anything in response.

She didn't move.

She was stiff as a rock against me.

But I didn't pull away.

I patiently waited for her to meet me halfway.

I knew she would, it just takes her a moment to process.

This time it took her a few minutes, but just as I expected—

She lifted her arms and firmly wrapped them around me, nuzzling her face into my chest.

I relaxed against her, feeling the softness of her breath against my skin when she sighed deeply.

She didn't say anything in response to my words, but she didn't need to.

The way she hugged me so tightly spoke volumes.

It nearly suffocated me, but god, I never wanted her to let go.

I stood there with her for minutes on end, gently caressing my fingertips against her back.

She was right.

Seeing these pictures—witnessing this part of her made me feel unexplainably closer to her.

And we weren't even done yet.

There was a door at the end of the hallway, one that we inevitably walked towards after silently pulling away from the hug.

The air was heavy, but the silence between us felt warm.

Like we silently understood each other without having to contribute words to this moment.

And wow, was this a moment indeed.

The moment she opened that door, I knew there was no going back.

I knew... I couldn't unlearn Monroe Leclair.

I almost didn't want to cross the threshold of the room.

I didn't want to invade her space or mess anything up.

"Can I..." I awkwardly trailed off, glancing over to meet her stare.

Monroe silently stared at me for a short moment.

Then...

She nodded once.

I drew in a deep breath, glancing over to the bedroom.

It had so much personality compared to her main bedroom we always slept in.

This one had a forest green accent wall, a vintage gold bed frame, and the bedding was made of soft white linen with floral accent pillows.

It was beautiful.

Even the forest green quilt was folded precisely at the bottom of the bed.

Everything looked so... untouched.

There was a wooden record player off in the corner, the lid open, and a shelf of precisely organized records just beside it.

A large arched window nearly spanned the whole wall, with sheer white curtains flowing down over it.

I glanced at the bookcase against the other wall, noticing the books were organized, but not by height.

They were out of order in this room.

Monroe could let go a little more in here.

My eyes shifted to the vintage wood nightstands, immediately noticing the small picture frame on one of them.

I furrowed my brows, taking a few steps closer to make out the photo.

It was of me?

My eyes were closed and my lips were parted, lying against the white pillow.

She must've taken a photo of me while I was sleeping.

"You seriously watch me in my sleep, huh?" I said, my tone joking as I glanced at Monroe leaning against the door frame.

That's when I noticed the subtle edges of her lips twitch up, annoyingly making me smile with her.

"You're such a creep, doc," I teased, walking back over to her so I could lightly push her shoulder.

"The most massive creep, Liberty," Monroe murmured, shaking her head as an inevitable laugh vibrated in her chest.

It was soft and made me feel so warm inside.

"Where did this doc thing resurface from, darling?" Monroe suddenly said, leaning away from the frame and grabbing my waist.

"You are a doctor, are you not, Monroe?" I pointed out with a tilted look, my smile unconsciously growing as I stared up at her.

God, she's so beautiful.

Seeing this side of her somehow makes her even more beautiful.

I've fallen and I will never get up.

"I assume I'm a lot of other things to you compared to doc," she countered, pulling me closer against her body.

I raised a brow, "Oh really?" I murmured innocently, "This is news to me?"

Monroe's lips twitched up, "Did you not just call me a creep, darling?" she purposefully pointed out, rather than the obvious topic she's hinting at.

I hummed softly, "Oh, yes, I did," I said so softly, rising to my tippy-toes to lean into her ear, "Mommy," I whispered in her ear, running my hands up her arms, "Can you play a record for me, please?"

Monroe remained silent for a moment, and I swear I had to fight the urge to smile as I pulled back innocently from her.

Like I didn't just whisper provocatively in her ear.

"Which record, darling?" Monroe asked, her voice lowered between us, and her eyes not wavering from mine.

"You're favorite," I murmured, tilting my head slightly, "For your favorite," I casually added with a wink.

Then I turned away from her, walking over to the precisely made bed.

I hesitated at first, not wanting to sit down and cause even the smallest wrinkle.

But it also felt weird to stand.

So I lowered down carefully, keeping my hands in my lap and not moving too much against the neat bedding.

I glanced over my shoulder when I heard the soft scratching against the record, watching Monroe lower the needle with precision.

The sound echoed throughout the room immediately.

The softest, most drawn-out jazz.

It was sexy and delicate.

I glanced at Monroe as she approached me, feeling the tension growing between us.

I have never felt this close to her, and I really wanted to show her that.

I wanted to touch her—maybe please her, and show her how much this all means to me.

A hum burned in my throat when Monroe gently grabbed my neck, leaning down to press her soft lips to mine.

I tilted my head further back as she deepened the perfect kiss with her tongue, standing between my spread legs.

The kiss was patient, and she felt so unbelievably soft against me.

The smooth jazz music echoing around us definitely contributed to my growing arousal.

A moan burned in my throat, tugging at the smooth blouse she wore and untucking it from her pants.

Monroe hummed in response, grabbing my hand—

And guiding it down to her pants.

Fuck.

Okay, don't fuck this up.

Seriously, be chill.

Act normal.

I carefully unbuttoned her pants and unzipped them, causing the material to loosen at her waist.

I whimpered when Monroe nipped at my bottom lip, causing me to tug her pants down in response.

She let go of my neck and pushed me back against the bed, drawing a gasp from my lips as she broke the kiss.

But only to kick off her pants and crawl on top of me.

This is heaven.

Monroe in lacy black underwear with a wrinkled blouse, smeared lipstick, and flushed cheeks, straddling me.

I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

I let out the deepest breath, hesitantly resting my hand on her soft thighs.

Her skin was so fucking smooth underneath my fingertips.

I glanced away from her soft thighs, meeting her stare as if to get confirmation.

I didn't want to push further if she's not open to it.

But then... Monroe's lips twitched up, sparking shivers down my spine.

It was the way she looked down at me with an effortless smile, challenging me to push further.

So I ran my hands up her velvety thighs, holding her stare as I messed with the lacey hem of her underwear.

But it seemed to affect me more than Monroe, who openly gauged my reaction to my own fucking actions.

I felt like a teenage boy right now, laying underneath her, touching her like I had never fucked a girl in my entire life.

I felt degraded, and I knew that was exactly what she wanted.

My grip tightened on the lace material when Monroe leaned down to me, making me unconsciously poke my lips out for a kiss.

But she only hovered over me with the same teasing smile, making me roll my eyes.

"You're so annoying," I mumbled, leaning up from the bed and firmly pressing my lips to hers.

Monroe chuckled against my lips, "And you're adorable," she said back, pressing me down on the bed again.

I hummed against her lips, desperately shifting under her for what she knew I wanted.

Or needed.

And not her fingers.

Or her mouth.

I needed her.

"I want these off, please," I whispered softly against her lips, tugging at her lace underwear.

"Please, what, sweetheart?" Monroe repeated back to me, slipping her tongue so deeply into my mouth.

"Mommy," I breathed out, my words muffled against her mouth as our kiss grew more rushed and wetter with our mixed saliva.

Monroe moaned against my lips, "Tell me exactly what you want, Liberty," she said, "In graphic detail, and I'll give you it."

Her words lit up everything inside of me, feeling an ache grow between my legs at even the idea of getting what I wanted.

"You only get one chance, darling, so do it properly for mommy," she whispered against my lips before pulling away entirely.

And once her blue eyes were on me, I felt breathless.

Also, frustrated.

It felt like I had so much to say, but I didn't know how to word it.

"I want you..." I trailed off, holding her precise stare, "To take off your underwear—or everything. I want you naked," I finished, clenching my jaw at my next words, "And ride me. I want you to grind your clit against mine, Monroe."

She raised a brow, her lips parting in response, but I wasn't done.

"I want you to smear our wetness together, and ride me until we both can't take it anymore," I added in clarification, determined to get the details right, "Pretty please, mommy," I murmured innocently.

Monroe's lips twitched up, and the approval on her features alone made my face grow warm

"You're such a good girl, Liberty," she softly praised me, climbing off me to stand on her feet.

I hummed wordlessly as I lifted up onto my elbows, watching as she slid her underwear down her legs, revealing herself to me.

Then she reached for the hem of her blouse and tugged it smoothly over her head, exposing her smooth black balconette bra.

The sight alone made my mouth water.

Especially when she unhooked her bra and revealed her breasts to me.

I eyed her soft pink nipples—how they were hardened under the cold air.

Fuck.

My lips parted when she reached for the end of my black dress, roughly tugging it up before reaching for the smooth underwear I wore.

They were off in seconds.

So was my dress, which I had to lay up to get over my head.

Our discarded clothing was flung to the floor carelessly, Monroe crawling back on top of me.

Except her leg subtly slid between mine, hovering over me and giving me the most perfect view.

A soft moan burned in my throat the moment she angled herself against me.

It made everything inside of me melt, basking in her soft wetness pressed against me.

"Monroe," I whined out, reaching for her waist as she rested her hands on either side of my head.

"You feel incredible, Liberty," she whispered, glancing down to stare at our aligned cores.

I dug my nails into her soft skin the moment she shifted against me, earning deep moans from us both.

"I want it fast," I breathed out, tugging her down closer to me.

Monroe sped up her pace at my words, glancing up to meet my stare.

A drawn-out moan bubbled in my throat, my brows furrowing as my lips parted.

When Monroe leaned her face closer to mine, I expected her to kiss me.

But instead, she left a small gap between us, and smoothly spit a clear line of saliva that dripped down into my mouth.

I moaned breathlessly as I swallowed her warm tasteless saliva, parting my lips for more as she started grinding faster and faster against me.

Monroe spit in my mouth again, but this time leaned down to kiss me, mixing our saliva together entirely as I curved my hips with each grind.

"Yes-yes, Monroe," I breathed out, arching against her soft body.

"My god," she breathed out, her brows furrowed and the most beautiful expression on her face, "Liberty," she moaned, nuzzling down into my neck.

"Keep going," I forced out breathlessly, running my arms around her waist as I sped up my pace against her, "We're almost there, baby."

Monroe moaned against my neck, her breaths coming out in soft pants as she matched my quick pace.

I felt the familiar tightness growing between my legs, feeling the pulse grow at my core as I quickly approached my orgasm.

The moment Monroe stiffened against me, her hips bucking into mine, I hit my peak.

"M-mommy," I moaned out, throwing my head back as I relished in my orgasm. "Mommy-mommy," I whined out as she continued her pace against me.

"Liberty," she forced out through her deep moans, pressing herself firmer against me.

My eyes rolled closed from the pressure against my clit, digging my nails even deeper into her skin as strings of moans echoed from my parted lips.

My orgasm felt fucking incredible, especially with her pressed to me, wetness dripping between our thighs.

It even felt wet underneath me on the bed.

So much for not messing anything up...

But god was it so worth it.

Not even just for the sex or the orgasm, but the aftermath of it all.

Monroe's limp, bare body pressed to mine as we tried to gather our breaths.

It felt nice just to lay there naked with her, feeling the warmth of her breath against my neck.

Every inch of her body was so soft.

I never wanted to get up.

But then I remembered the setup Monroe had for us downstairs.

"We can go paint if you want," I suddenly whispered, continuing my soft caress against her smooth back.

"No," Monroe softly whispered, "We're staying right here."

I smiled slightly, "But you put so much effort into it, Ro," I pointed out, wanting to get something out of the setup.

"We'll paint tomorrow night, darling," she murmured, pressing the softest kiss to my neck.

I let out a soft sigh, "Okay," I said, relaxing underneath her as I continued caressing her back, "I definitely want to finish that burger and fries though."

Monroe chuckled softly against my skin, "Of course, my sweet girl," she said, earning a hum from me as I briefly closed my eyes.

We laid there for a few more minutes on end, our bodies tangled together as I continued tracing my fingertips against her back.

Eventually, we got up, and Monroe grabbed us robes from the closet.

I also walked over to the attached bathroom to pee and clean myself up.

The bathroom up here was much nicer to me.

Maybe because of the gold finishes or the vintage feel.

Even the mirror looked older, and the familiar forest green theme flowed into the bathroom as well.

Whether it was the rugs or the bath towels folded on the open ledge under the sink.

I think it's her favorite color, which felt nice to know about her.

I'll get her everything in forest green now.

Also, records would be so cute, and maybe books to add to her shelf.

All I could think about were things to get her instead of flowers as we walked downstairs, wearing matching black silk robes.

I felt so luxurious in the robe.

It was also cute that she wore an identical one to mine.

I swear it was so aesthetic of us to eat burgers and fries in these expensive silk robes.

"One picture," I said, reaching for my phone, "Pretty please. It won't be posted anywhere, and I can lock it in my photos. I also would never show anyone, I just want to capture this moment, and we don't have any photos together—"

"Liberty," Monroe chuckled, swallowing the bite she had briefly chewed, "Darling, take a photo."

A smile immediately grew on my lips, "Really? You mean it?" I asked, meeting her stare.

"Of course, my sweet girl," she murmured, picking her burger up and leaning closer to me, "Capture this moment," she quoted my previous words.

My smile widened, quickly picking up two fries to stick in my mouth like fangs.

"My god," she chuckled as she eyed the fries in my mouth, shaking her head to herself, "You are adorable, Liberty."

My face grew warm from her words, glancing over when she dipped her finger in the ketchup.

"Here, darling," she said, dabbing some of the ketchup on the ends of my fake fangs, "Much more realistic."

"Thank you, Ro Ro," I murmured carefully, not wanting to mess up the fries in my mouth as I lifted my phone for a selfie.

She hummed in response, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek.

I took a picture immediately, capturing her kissing my cheek before she posed close to me with her burger in hand.

I had to lift the phone higher to capture our robes and the moment entirely, smiling like a fucking idiot with the fry fangs in my mouth.

Monroe pretended to be taking a bite of the burger, a soft smile prominent on her lips as she looked at the camera.

"They're so cute," I whispered, clicking the bottom corner to view all our photos. "You look so pretty, Ro."

"Thank you, my beautiful girl," she said, pressing another brief kiss to my cheek.

I hummed happily in response, scrolling through the pictures that we both looked at.

"This one is my favorite," I determined, staring at the picture of her kissing my cheek.

"Oh, I adore that one," Monroe didn't hesitate to say as she eyed the picture, "Send me it and I'll frame it with the other."

My smile grew, glancing at the top of my phone when a text buzzed through.

From Celia.

Oh fuck.

"Liberty?"

I blinked a few times as she swiftly grabbed my phone from my hand, clicking on the text immediately.

"I swear we don't text—I don't even know why she's texting me," I rushed out as Monroe read through the minimal messages we exchanged.

It was only two messages total exchanged between us, and it was after the retreat when I told her I made it back safe.

That's it.

And then her recent one read: I noticed you cancelled your appointment today. Is everything okay?

"I swear it's not a big deal. She just wanted me to text her when I made it back from the retreat," I quickly explained, noticing Monroe staring blankly at my phone screen.

"Why is she texting you this late?" Monroe said, glancing over to me.

"It's only eight," I pointed out, immediately pursing my lips when she tilted her head at me.

"Wrong answer," she determined, setting my phone down as she stood from her chair, "Any time is too late, but past office hours is certainly too late, Liberty."

I nodded a few times, "Of course, baby," I agreed, standing from my chair with her.

"And Celia? Her first name, Liberty?" Monroe emphasized, taking a step closer to me.

"She put it in as that, I swear," I clarified, hating how this looked.

At least the texts showed it wasn't anything inappropriate, but Dr. Kincaid texting me after hours isn't a great look.

And her contact name.

"I'll kill her, Liberty."

My eyes widened at her words, how serious she sounded.

I took a step closer to her, "Monroe–"

"I'll kill her with my bare hands," she cut me short, turning away from me before I could try to touch her or hug her to help calm her down.

I didn't even know what to say.

Mostly, because I know she's capable of killing someone.

She normally has someone handle it for her, so I wasn't sure if she meant the bare hands thing.

But god, she sounds so serious, and... I don't even know what to say.

Fuck.

"Hey," I softly whispered, gently grabbing her shoulder, "You don't have to do anything, baby. You don't need to kill her."

"You are mine, Liberty." Monroe suddenly turned around to face me, her jaw flexed into a sharp line. "She doesn't get to speak a single word to you. Much less, stand in the same room as you."

I nodded a few times in a row, "Of course-of course, baby," I assured her, reaching for her waist.

"I don't want her to look at you, breathe the same air as you," she said as I pulled her closer, trying to calm her down, "I don't want her to exist at the same time as you, Liberty."

"Just come here, okay?" I whispered, pulling her in for a hug, "Let's just breathe for a moment."

Monroe was stiff against me, not bothering to hug me back.

"I can't," she sighed so deeply, sounding genuinely bothered by this situation.

And it wasn't even about me.

It was purely about Dr. Kincaid trying to take something away from her.

It's a trigger for Monroe, which I realize now.

If she wasn't perfect as a child, it was taken away.

I understand that, but—

"I'm not going anywhere, especially not with her," I quickly assured her, "No matter if you mess up or make a mistake. I'm here with you, Monroe. I'll always be here."

She remained silent, not bothering to formulate a response.

"She's not taking me away from you. No one, no force, can take me away, Monroe," I clarified, running my hands up my back, "I'm here with you."

I felt her slowly relax against me, but still no response or even a hug back.

"Let's delete her number and block it," I murmured, pressing my cheek firmer against her chest to help ground my presence with hers. "I'll even get a new number, baby. Everything's okay."

Still nothing.

Except... a sigh?

A very deep sigh.

And then—

A hug back.

She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back.

"See, it's all okay—everything's good," I assured her, running my hands down her back.

"You're here with me," she breathed out, leaning down to rest her head against my shoulder.

"I'm here with you, Monroe," I repeated back, pressing myself closer to her, "Just you, baby."

Monroe let out another deep sigh, nodding a few times against my shoulder as her arms tightened around my waist.

I exhaled a long, deep breath, relaxing against her as we remained wrapped in the hug.

There was only one thing on my mind as I closed my eyes, holding Monroe so tight to me.

I need to stay the fuck away from Dr. Kincaid, and she needs to stay away from me.

End of discussion.

Otherwise, this could all end very messily, and that's the last thing I want.

Even if Monroe doesn't mind the mess for once.