light filters in through the window at the top of the stairs, turning the air a rosy gold that makes even a law office seem like the perfect setting for a romantic reunion.
I see the leather couch in the corner has been replaced by a larger couch with carved arms made of blond wood covered in striped canvas, and think maybe it would have been okay to make a memory there, after all, but Gabe doesn’t pause on his way through the room. He leads me through the office into the small bathroom, where he opens a crystalized window to reveal a metal fire escape.
“The roof okay?” He glances back at me, heat and caution mixing on his handsome face, making it clear I’m not the only one who’s feeling as anxious as I am eager.
Will making love with him feel the way it used to? Or will it be like being with someone new? I have no idea, and I’m not sure it matters, as long as it is wild and raw and sweet.
“The roof is perfect.” I follow him out onto the fire escape, and up the metal rungs leading to the top of the four-story building. It’s the tallest building on the block, so no curious neighbors will be spying on us, and I can’t remember the last time I saw a helicopter fly over Giffney. I feel certain we’ll have privacy if not comfort, but then we step over the concrete ledge at the top of the fire escape, and my worries about hot tar beneath my back vanish in a rush of delight.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, drifting across the roof to the garden on the other side. Raised beds full of white daisies and violet verbena stand at right angles, surrounding a set of table and chairs, and two loungers with thick red cushions. Strings of bare bulbs crisscross overhead, and a stereo and grill stand in the shelter of a wooden cabana that hints at the gatherings that must have been held here.
“Charlene did all of this,” Gabe says, coming to stand next to me as I lean down to smell the verbena. “She and her husband come up here every Friday night. They’ve been married for twenty years, but still can’t get enough of each other.”
The mention of Charlene’s name is like someone flipped a dimmer, muting the golden evening. I stand, the lemon scent of the verbena leaving an astringent taste in my mouth. “I remember meeting her when I came to pick you up after work. She seemed so nice…” I shake my head, hating that the dark things have followed us up here, to this refuge from the world. “Why would she help your parents fake your funeral? Did she have any idea why they were doing what they did?”
“I don’t know,” Gabe says. “We’ll search her desk before we go, but right now I have more important things to do.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my back to his front, sending awareness coursing through me as our bodies slide into place, fitting together as perfectly as we always have. He presses a kiss to my neck, my jaw, the hollow beneath my ear, before he captures my earlobe between his teeth and bites down hard enough to make me suck in a breath through my teeth.
“Still like biting?” he asks, fingers digging into my hips.
“Still like biting.” My pulse speeds and my nipples pull tight, celebrating the feel of his teeth raking across my skin.
He fists his hand in the hair at the base of my neck, forcing my head back as his lips return to my throat. “How about this?”
“Yes,” I moan, eyes sliding closed as my muscles go limp and my knees start to feel decidedly weak. I arch back against Gabe, until his erection pushes against the small of my back, making me shiver. He feels so perfect, the size and shape of him as familiar as my own face in the mirror, even after all this time apart.
“And what about getting fucked like I mean it?” he asks, the hitch in his voice making the course words sweeter than any of the endearments Isaac whispered into my ear.
My ribs contract and my heart lurches and I suddenly feel like I’m going to start crying the way I did when I
I see the leather couch in the corner has been replaced by a larger couch with carved arms made of blond wood covered in striped canvas, and think maybe it would have been okay to make a memory there, after all, but Gabe doesn’t pause on his way through the room. He leads me through the office into the small bathroom, where he opens a crystalized window to reveal a metal fire escape.
“The roof okay?” He glances back at me, heat and caution mixing on his handsome face, making it clear I’m not the only one who’s feeling as anxious as I am eager.
Will making love with him feel the way it used to? Or will it be like being with someone new? I have no idea, and I’m not sure it matters, as long as it is wild and raw and sweet.
“The roof is perfect.” I follow him out onto the fire escape, and up the metal rungs leading to the top of the four-story building. It’s the tallest building on the block, so no curious neighbors will be spying on us, and I can’t remember the last time I saw a helicopter fly over Giffney. I feel certain we’ll have privacy if not comfort, but then we step over the concrete ledge at the top of the fire escape, and my worries about hot tar beneath my back vanish in a rush of delight.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, drifting across the roof to the garden on the other side. Raised beds full of white daisies and violet verbena stand at right angles, surrounding a set of table and chairs, and two loungers with thick red cushions. Strings of bare bulbs crisscross overhead, and a stereo and grill stand in the shelter of a wooden cabana that hints at the gatherings that must have been held here.
“Charlene did all of this,” Gabe says, coming to stand next to me as I lean down to smell the verbena. “She and her husband come up here every Friday night. They’ve been married for twenty years, but still can’t get enough of each other.”
The mention of Charlene’s name is like someone flipped a dimmer, muting the golden evening. I stand, the lemon scent of the verbena leaving an astringent taste in my mouth. “I remember meeting her when I came to pick you up after work. She seemed so nice…” I shake my head, hating that the dark things have followed us up here, to this refuge from the world. “Why would she help your parents fake your funeral? Did she have any idea why they were doing what they did?”
“I don’t know,” Gabe says. “We’ll search her desk before we go, but right now I have more important things to do.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my back to his front, sending awareness coursing through me as our bodies slide into place, fitting together as perfectly as we always have. He presses a kiss to my neck, my jaw, the hollow beneath my ear, before he captures my earlobe between his teeth and bites down hard enough to make me suck in a breath through my teeth.
“Still like biting?” he asks, fingers digging into my hips.
“Still like biting.” My pulse speeds and my nipples pull tight, celebrating the feel of his teeth raking across my skin.
He fists his hand in the hair at the base of my neck, forcing my head back as his lips return to my throat. “How about this?”
“Yes,” I moan, eyes sliding closed as my muscles go limp and my knees start to feel decidedly weak. I arch back against Gabe, until his erection pushes against the small of my back, making me shiver. He feels so perfect, the size and shape of him as familiar as my own face in the mirror, even after all this time apart.
“And what about getting fucked like I mean it?” he asks, the hitch in his voice making the course words sweeter than any of the endearments Isaac whispered into my ear.
My ribs contract and my heart lurches and I suddenly feel like I’m going to start crying the way I did when I
Similar Books
