Page 33 of Lost Lyrebird

In the kitchen, I start the coffee.I pour a cup for myself and fill a thermos for him.

I settle on the couch, resting my mug on the coaster on the far side of the coffee table as I consider where to start on the jigsaw puzzle spread out before me.The remaining pieces are systematically organized by color.A little over a hundred pieces to go before it’s finished.That’ll take me about a day, maybe two, then I’ll glue the pieces together and add it to the pile of puzzles leaning against the wall, which is about a foot deep.

I’m running out of space for them.

The attic is full of boxes with things I salvaged from my childhood home after the meth lab incident.A good portion of the space is taken up by puzzles I’ve finished over the years.

My shop in the garage isn’t an option because of the sawdust, so at some point, I’ll need to either start giving them away or find another place to store them.

I like seeing them around, though.They’re a reminder that if I can collect all the pieces and put them in the proper order, even if a few go missing, I’ll have a clearer view of the image as a whole.Maybe even solve one of the biggest mysteries of my life, if I can do the same with holes in my memories.

Mateo finally appears, broody as ever.He’s sporting stubble and wet hair that’s haphazardly styled.Grabbing some bread, he slathers it with peanut butter and honey, then tosses it into a baggie.Spying the thermos, he holds it up.“For me?”

I take a sip from my mug and glance at him over the rim.“Looks that way.”

A grunt and words follow.Either a “Thank you” or a “Fuck you.”Hard to tell.He snatches up his backpack by the door.

“You still meeting your mom after school?”

After scoffing, he murmurs, “If she bothers to show.”Then he heads out, slamming the door behind him.I grit my teeth because Jesus, the frame is gonna fall on his head one of these days.

A few seconds go by before I hear him fire up his bike.The engine revs three times, and I’m in the process of shaking my head when his tires screech in protest as he peels out of the driveway.

I take a few deep breaths and roll my shoulders to relieve some tension.When that doesn’t work, I grab the remote and hit Play.I spend a good part of my morning drinking coffee and getting lost in the small connections I can make on the puzzle.

As soon as my mind is completely at ease, it begins to drift where it shouldn’t—to Lily and her audition.

Not sure I can even call it an audition at this point.It was more of a potent mindfuck, certain moments of it hinting at Lily’s complex mind, leaving me with more unanswered questions.Others were so sensual and seemingly intentional, they’ve driven deep into my psyche and left a permanent impression.

She lingers in my mind.The vision of her nearly naked body is vividly imprinted there in ways I won’t be able to unsee.And not having it is going to bring more torment than pleasure.

Same with the sensation of her fingers running through my hair.They left behind a sense of rightness.And it’s like my hands remember the feel of her skin.I flex a fist, trying to shake the feeling, but the sweet glide of my palms against her silky skin is right fucking there, as if on instant recall.

Eventually, I stop fighting it.Because I know what this is—biology warring with my years of mastered control.Hormones firing synapses, chemical signals screaming through my veins, urging me to act on instincts as old as the first man who craved the first woman.Oxytocin, dopamine, testosterone—an orchestra of need and want crashing through me in a symphony I can’t silence.My body doesn’t care about morality, propriety, or the vow I made to keep our relationship on a professional level.

You can’t go without sex with another person for years and not acquire the knowledge of your body’s basic biological needs.

So after grabbing the stereo remote and changing the playlist to an ’80s hit list, I sit back against the couch, close my eyes, and spread my thighs, letting my mind wander where it will.The ease it takes to conjure her to life, the realness of this fantasy, should be unsettling.

Simple Minds’ “Don’t You”is the first song to come on, and like a siren off the bow of a sinking ship, she’s right there waiting, appearing in front of me in my apartment.

I change the babydoll-pink color of her bra and panties, because it reminds me of Elle and makes me feel like a bastard.So baby-blue it is, a set just as sheer, if not more so, than what she wore during her audition.Only this time, it’s better, because it’s my fantasy she’s wielding as she moves, my music she’s swaying her hips to, and my gaze the only one she’s performing for.

I rub my chest, massaging my pecs before letting my hand fall and cup the bulge in my jeans.

There are times, like in the shower, when I’m limited on hot water supply when I just get right to it, but this isn’t one of them.Alone, with nothing but time on my hands today, I edge myself, taking my time and letting the dance build as she moves.

The music shifts U2’s “With or Without You” as I rub my cock over my jeans and focus on her hands skimming over her body as she gets lost in song after song.

When “In the Air Tonight” by Phil Collins kicks in, my jeans are open, my dick is in my hand being teased and taunted with strokes and pulls as my other hand plays across my chest.The heat in the loft and on my skin rises as her performance becomes more sensual.A deliberate, sinful tease.

The light blue pops against Lily’s golden skin.She comes closer, and the sight of her small nipples on display through the fabric elicits a deep moan from my lips.She places her hands on the coffee table in front of me and bends forward, her tits nearly spilling out of the bra.In the fantasy, she swipes the puzzle to the floor and crawls toward me.She kneels there in front of me and spreads her thighs wide, giving me a close-up view of her gorgeous body as she undulates to the music.Her hands slowly travel up her body, palming her breasts, then reaching behind her to release the clasp of her bra.

Slowly, and with a sly smile, she drops it to the floor.

Her panties come off seconds later, and I melt them away.She sweeps her beautiful hair from one side to the other and gazes straight at me.Reaching out, she takes my hand and moves over me, straddling my lap.The fantasy builds from there.Her hands roaming over my body, mine doing the same to hers.

I pump my cock harder and faster as I imagine what it would be like to sink into her pussy for the first time.That first moment.The wet glide as I buried myself inch by inch.The tight grip of her around me.What her breathy moans would sound like.And fuck, her sultry voice in my ear.