Fantasy in Lingerie (Lingerie 6)

He stood by the door, his arms crossed and his t-shirt stretched. His jeans hung low on his hips, and since he hadn’t shaved for a few days, his jaw was sprinkled with masculine scruff. I liked the way it felt between my legs when his mouth was pressed to my most tender areas.

I’d never seen a more beautiful man all my life. I’d never been so passionate with someone, needed someone the way I needed him. It was the only way to explain my behavior, my impulse to save his life. If he didn’t mean anything to me, I would have looked the other way and let it happen. But something told me I would be devastated if I lost this man.

But knowing my actions weren’t enough to spare my family made me resent him, even if he said he would consider ending the war. I was relieved I was free, but just because he gave me permission to do what I wanted didn’t necessarily mean I was free from this man…because I could still feel the connection between us. It was overwhelming and powerful.

“When are you leaving?” He broke the silence with his masculine voice, his deep and reverberating baritone vibrating his throat.

“Tomorrow.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure…probably a week.”

His eyes showed his disappointment, but he didn’t voice it. “Can I stay with you?”

I’d never heard him ask for anything since the day I met him. There was no such thing as him asking for permission. He just took what he wanted—and everyone else had to accept it. I could feel the anger in his voice when he asked the question because it was so difficult for him to do. He still felt like he owned me even after he’d set me free. “No. I just want some space right now.” I’d spent every waking hour with this man, and I needed some time alone. After all this time, I thought I understood him, but I realized I didn’t understand him at all.

He clenched his jaw hard but didn’t give in to the rage inside his chest. He gave me a slight nod. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Alright.” I was surprised he was actually going to listen to me. I assumed he would storm across the room and kiss me until he got what he wanted.

“I mean it. Anything at all.”

“I know…”

He gave me a long look before he turned around and left my apartment.

He actually left.

I really did have my freedom back, my independence. I thought it would give me a high, give me a sense of power.

But his absence only made me feel alone.

I cleaned my apartment, ordered a pizza, and then occupied myself by watching TV while lying on the couch. It was the first time I’d been alone since I got into trouble with Bones in the first place. Now I could do whatever I wanted, even go out and meet a guy. I still had the tracker in my ankle, but even if he was watching my whereabouts, there was nothing he could do about it.

When it started to get late, I went into my bedroom and got under the covers. I cranked up the heater a little higher than I usually did because it was too cold. Bones’s body had provided an extra ten degrees of warmth. He heated the sheets and kept me comfortable all night long.

It was the first time I went to bed in a sweater.

Now I wasn’t used to my own bed anymore—not without him.

Every time I closed my eyes and tried to drift off to sleep, I heard a noise. It was pop here or a crack somewhere else. My paranoid mind got the best of me, and I kept walking into the living room to explore the sound.

I peeked out my window and saw nothing there. I checked the windows and made sure the front door was locked. Knuckles had broken in to my apartment, and now I’d seen five men break in to Bones’s place despite all of his security measures.

I didn’t feel safe anymore.

I went back to bed, but then the apartment would make strange noises, so I would get up again and check over and over.

I was used to his deep breathing drowning out all other sounds, and I was used to staying at his place more often than staying at mine. And I was used to knowing he would handle anything that came our way. I didn’t have to care about the strange noises because I had a bulletproof man to protect me.

I’d seen him be shot twice—and both times, it didn’t affect him.

How was that possible?

I kept getting up and checking the apartment, afraid that someone was watching me now that Bones was gone.

But I never saw anything.

I was just being paranoid.