Page 19 of Splintered Security (Aspen & Evergreen #2)

distracting and erotic

Anni

“Baby, wake up.” A warm palm rubs me from wrist to biceps as the voice calls me from sleep.

“No.”

My bed moves with my response, enough for me to open my eyes and look around.

“What time is it?”

“It’s after eleven. It’s time to go to bed.”

“I’m good here.” I close my eyes and try to find the soft spot that was so comfortable moments ago on Ren’s hard chest.

“Love that, but let me put you to bed.”

“Fine. Your chest got all hard while I was asleep.”

“Yeah, it was the sleep that did that. Sorry for messing up your pillow.” Humor is evident in his voice. “Come on.”

He slides out from under me, doing some magical maneuver, and extends a hand.

There are things Ren has begun doing that I wouldn’t believe if I didn’t see them with my own eyes.

The forehead and crown kisses are one. Offering his hand is another.

It’s a softness in what could be seen as otherwise harsh masculinity that endears me in a whole new way.

I accept his proffered hand and make my way to the bedroom, forgoing changing clothes, and dropping into bed.

Ren pulls the covers over me and drops a kiss to my forehead. “Be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to lock up and turn off the lights.” He clicks off the lamp and kills the overhead light as he leaves.

I realize that I haven’t once given any consideration to our safety.

I’ve struggled with the idea of my personal vulnerability or the threat after me.

But I haven’t once thought that someone could infiltrate our bubble.

Ren’s taken care of me. My meals, locking up at night, everything down to coffee each morning.

I get up to hit the bathroom and brush my teeth and, feeling grateful—and daring, when it comes down to it—I strip off my clothes and slide back under the covers.

I want more and I’m going to offer it.

Re n

It takes two passes with the broom to get all the glass shards from her phone. I swear the thing is indestructible except for the shattering of the screen. There’s a crack in the tile floor from the force of my throw and how it landed, and I still bet I could power it on.

I may get a new screen put on it tomorrow. I hate the idea of throwing money at it when she has a new one, but I need to be able to monitor that fucker, and what better way than him leading himself right to me?

I’m not one of those people who has to keep my house with nothing on the counters or with everything in its place.

I am, however, a man who was in the military, who’s lived with minimal extraneous shit, and who has been alone for more than a decade.

Plates piling up weren’t a thing when I could run the dishwasher once or twice a week and not have crap everywhere.

Now, with Anni here, I’m enjoying feeding her and feeling like my house is lived in, but I’ve spent more time in my kitchen since she arrived than I have in the last month.

I shut everything down, lock the house up, and head to the bedroom, scrubbing a hand down my face as I go.

I lost it tonight—lost my temper, my mind—and let rage overwhelm me.

One week. It’ll be done in one week. Six more days and this chapter of our lives is behind us. I just pray that the “us” afterward isn’t something she can walk away from.

I open the bedroom door as quietly as I can and go to the bathroom, strip down to my boxers, and take in the room that has undergone the biggest transformation since Anni arrived.

There are bottles and tubes of who-knows-what everywhere.

It smells girly and looks expensive. And this is just what she called “the basics.”

Everything smells. My bathroom, which used to smell like soap and cologne, is fruitier, softer, and definitely more feminine.

I brush my teeth and slide into bed, hearing Anni’s rhythmic breathing. She murmurs something as she rolls away. I stuff my hands behind my head and work to find sleep, but it eludes me, despite matching my breathing to that of the woman lying at my side.

Finally, I roll to spoon my wife, hoping something about it gives me peace.

I certainly wouldn’t call it peace.

She’s naked… and sound asleep.

My dick gets the first memo, but not the second. In no time, I’m full mast. I have to pull my hips back so I don’t come off like a fucking creeper, even if she is my wife and in our bed.

I stifle a groan as I wrap my arm around her, threading our fingers and placing our joined hands at her heart. I fold around her, giving her my warmth and taking the same from her and, in no time flat, I drift into peaceful, dreamless sleep.