Page 43 of Saved by Him

After my second glass of wine, I excused myself to use the bathroom. I’d spent time in the house before, but I hadn’t really paid much attention to the pictures lining the hallway to the guest bathroom until now. Diana and Jeremiah’s faces were everywhere. Some of the pictures were of all four of the Archers, and there were a few of Rylan and Jenna alone, including one of their wedding, but the majority were of the kids. A couple of them looked like they were school pictures, but most of them were candid shots. Diana exclaiming over a giraffe at a zoo. Jeremiah sitting in a classic muscle car at what appeared to be a museum. Both children building a snowman.

I stopped in front of a whole collage of the family working on a pair of bedrooms. They were painting the walls, and every picture showed them smiling and laughing together. The sight brought back a memory with enough force to make me tear up.

“Are you sure that’s the color you want?” Dad sounded doubtful, but he’d promised me my choice, and I knew he’d keep his word. Even if he didn’t like the mint green paint I’d chosen.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “I want this on the walls and that one for the trim.”

I was going to be ten next week, and as a birthday present, my parents had finally agreed to let me redo my room how I wanted it. No more pastel yellow walls or babyish curtains. I was even going to get a new bed, but Dad said that had to wait until after we painted because he didn’t want to risk ruining it. I hadn’t told him or Mom, but I was looking forward to painting almost as much as when the room would be done because all three of us were going to paint it together. Mom and Dad had been working so much lately that we never had time together. Sure, sometimes they could be lame, but unlike a lot of my friends, I still liked spending time with them.

I blinked, bringing myself back to the present. I’d almost completely forgotten about us doing my room together. We’d spent an entire weekend getting it done. We’d ordered pizza and ate on the floor like it’d been a picnic. I’d forgotten to pull my hair back at one point, and it’d stuck to the wall, getting paint all over it. Instead of being mad, my mom just laughed and dabbed paint on the beard my dad had been growing that year.

“I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.” Jalen came over and stood next to me. “Photogenic family.”

I nodded. “Most of my family pictures are in storage in Indiana. Pretty much anything personal is there actually. Anton sold the house and most of the furniture, but he didn’t have room in his loft for the rest, not knowing what I wanted to keep. He didn’t want to be the one to decide what got thrown away, so he rented a storage unit. After he died, I put most of my stuff from the years with him in there too.”

“My family really didn’t do much in the way of family photos,” he said, “as I’m sure you noticed.”

I had, but it hadn’t seemed like the sort of thing I should mention. I reached over and took his hand. “I’ve never been a big fan of having my picture taken.”

He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. “Does that mean I won’t be able to convince you to pose for me sometime?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes told me he was teasing, but I appreciated the change from a topic that could’ve turned the mood maudlin.

“I don’t know,” I teased back. “I suppose I could be persuaded. If you worked really hard at it.”

He glanced around us, then pulled me through a doorway and into the library. My head spun as he backed me against the wall, but he didn’t give me a chance to steady myself before his mouth came down on mine. He made a pleased, hungry sound in the back of his throat as his tongue pushed apart my lips. I curled my fingers into his shoulders, clinging to him as he ran a hand down my side and over my hip.

“I’m going to make you come,” he murmured as he slid his hand under the slit in my dress. “You’re going to come on my fingers, and then we’ll go back in to our friends and enjoy the rest of the party.”

I nodded, a shiver running down my spine. His fingers danced, feather-light, along my skin even as he kissed his way across my jaw and down my neck. His teeth scraped against my skin, and I bit my lip to hold back the moan that wanted to escape.

He leaned against me, the flat planes of his chest hard against the points of my nipples. His fingers pressed against the front of my panties, and he chuckled. I didn’t need him to tell me that the cloth was damp. He could make me wet with a single kiss.

I cried out as his fingers dipped under the elastic of my panties, two of them sliding inside me without any hesitation. He clamped his hand over my mouth, his eyes dark with desire.

“Shh,” he said with a smile. “Can’t be too loud.”

I glared at him as he twisted his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. His thumb rubbed my clit with brisk, almost rough strokes, pushing me toward something explosive. Something jarring and brutal. I whimpered against his hand, squirming as he drove his fingers into me, my muscles quivering as the pressure built inside me.

“I want you to come,” he practically growled the words. “Dammit, Rona, come. I need to see you come.”

I cursed, the word muffled by his hand. My back arched, and I rocked against his hand. I squeezed my eyes closed, nails digging into the soft fabric of his sweater. He continued talking, ordering me to climax, telling me how much he needed to see it, how much he wanted to feel me come on his fingers. And then I was there, crying out his name as white-hot pleasure coursed through me.

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