Page 164 of Tangled Like Us

Her voice is a gentle whisper. “I love how you feel inside of me.” Her hips arch against my pelvis.

I smother a grunt in my lungs, and I dip my head down more. To kiss her reddened lips and knead her breast, my thumb teasing her hardened nipple. Huskily, I say, “I love being inside of you.” I rock again.

Quiet.

Careful not to let the bed squeak, and she hangs on to my back. Building her up to another peak after some minutes, and I find a spot that sends her over. Deep.

Deep.

Again.

She cries against my palm, sounds deadened, her thighs quaking, and I fist her pink sheets with my left hand. Doing everything in my power not to make a fucking noise as a mind-exploding, blistering sensation crashes into me and ignites me on fire.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.I come hard with Jane in total silence.

34

JANE COBALT

Light streams into my room,a sore feeling making me smile. It feels like he’s still in me. I roll over…but to an empty bed.

Of course it’s empty, Jane.

I made Thatcher leave at 3 a.m. exactly, and I didn’t ask if he wanted to stay longer. We have structure for a reason. My bodyguard can’t be caught sleeping with me, and I’m not going to put his job in jeopardy.

But there’s no harm in just imagining mornings with him. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to wake up to Thatcher in my bedroom. And my mind whirls, recalling all the moments of yesterday. He made an eerie, cold night safe and warm and loving.

I stretch my arms out, and then rub my eyes. Focusing on Thatcher’s side of the mattress. Made neatly already. Pink duvet pulled up, tucked in, and smoothed. On the pillow rests a yellow sticky note.

I prop myself on my elbow and read his legible handwriting.

Thanks for last night. See you in the day.

I feel my smile beneath my fingertips, and I notice a little arrow drawn underneath the wordday.I flip the note over, more words on the back:

Coffee is downstairs.

He must’ve put a timer on the pot, so it’d brew around the time I normally wake.

No one has ever left a note for me. Not like this. My heart swells, and I stare longer at the note like it’ll disappear in my fingertips.

This is a Cinderella dream that’ll end, but I want to remember it all later. My favorite moments, these magical nights and days.

I scoot off the bed, slipping my arms into my robe, and I tie the belt around my waist. With the tug of my vanity drawer, I find a square tin and toss out the cotton swabs. Gently, I place the note inside and snap the tin closed.

Not letting this one fade.

35

JANE COBALT

“The condom broke,”I whisper to Thatcher, the ripped latex in my hand. I’m sitting on my vanity, my legs spread wide open for him.

Our bodies glistening in sweat, pulsating, and we do our best not to breathe loudly. He’s sheltered so many of my gasps just tonight. I think he’s the only man I’d want to cover my mouth. Because I know he’d only do so for my safety.