Page 81 of Forget Me Not
Gunther. It was Gunther.
Gunther was dead.
She waited for the pain, guilt, anything—but the only emotion that came to her wasrelief.
“Syve?” She heard Bastien’s voice, but the flood of conflicting emotions kept her from responding right away. The two men spoke for a moment by the door, then the sheriff called out to her as he walked out the door, letting her know he would be in touch.
“It’s not Cy,” she finally mumbled when Bastien took a seat next to her. “I think I’m supposed to be upset that Gunther is dead, because he was technically family, but I’m not. I’mrelieved, and I feel bad becauseI don’t feel bad. That makes me such an awful person, doesn’t it? God, Bas, for a minute I thought he was going to tell me it was Cyrus, because we haven’t seen him in days—I was more worried about Cy than anyone else. What if he was involved? What if they just haven’t found him yet? What if Cy is out there hurt—”
“Cyrus is okay, Bambi. Mama called me when I was on my way over. He showed up just after I left the house; I had to have just missed him.”
Syve let out a tense breath.
“Bambi. I think you and I both know what side of an animal attack Cyrus is more likely to be on.”
The way he said it made her pause, she turned to him, wide eyed.
“Did he know? Did you tell him?” she whispered.
“I think he overheard us, by the fire. I also think it’s probably best if we don’t talk about it again either—unless you have a problem with that?”
“No, you’re right. We shouldn’t talk about it after this. Probably ever.” She took a deep breath. “Are you okay though? Do you feel…I don’t know…how do you feel about this?”
“It’s the ending I was aiming for originally, so I can’t say I’m mad about it. I feel better knowing the son of a bitch isn’t a threat anymore, but…I just wish there had been a conversation about it first, you know? It would have been nice if we had been included in the decision, or at least informed of it. I shouldn’t be surprised that Cyrustook care of it. That’s kind of his thing, he’s a fixer.” He slid from the couch, landing to kneel between her legs. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore right now. I came here to celebrate you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Bastien
Eyebrowsraised,Syvestareddown at him.
“Celebrate?”
“You got the grant, Bambi. That deserves a little bit of a celebration. Or a reward—call it what you will.”
His hands found her ankles and he felt her skin prickle at his touch. With a fox-like grin, he slid his fingers slowly up the outsides of her legs, past her thighs until he had a firm grasp on her ass.
She hummed, pupils blown wide. “I like rewards. I’mveryresponsive to positive reinforcement.”
“I’m so proud of you, Bambi,” he spoke the words into her skin, kissing his way up her thigh from her knee, only to stopat the hem of her shorts and start again on her other leg. “You worked so hard for this, you deserve every single piece of it.” He enunciated the last few words with little nips, catching the skin of her inner thigh between his teeth, just enough to make her squirm.
“Bastien.”
The way she moaned his name as her fingers thread through his hair was intoxicating. With a grumble emanating from deep in his chest, he slid his hands higher until he could slip his fingers around her waist band and pull.
Syve’s thighs flexed against his arms as she raised her hips just a fraction, allowing him to slip her bottoms off. When she dropped back onto the couch she raised one leg, dropping her sandal to the floor as Bastien slipped her shorts over one foot. He didn’t even bother with the other, instead leaving the denim pooled around her ankle.
“I have dreamt of tasting you, Bambi,” he crooned, shamelessly staring at her exposed body.
Soft pants fell from her lips as his hands rested upon her knees. A sharp gasp followed, when those same hands dropped under her knees so he could flip her legs up over his shoulders, pulling her hips to the edge of the couch. He didn’t leave her anytime to react before he descended, devouring her slowly, methodically, savoring every second. Relentlessly, he pressed on until she broke apart, molten under his touch and gasping his name.
“Bastien!”
“How’s that for a reward, my love?” he asked, a single brow raising when her glazed eyes finally met his. The argument could stand, however, that he was the one who had actually been given the prize.
“That’s it?” she breathed. “What if I feel like I deserve abiggerreward?” Coyly, her gaze shot to his painfully bulging pants.
“Syve, whatever I have is yours. Anything you could ever long for, I will deliver without question. You never even need to ask—if you want it,take it. Demand it from me, and I will give it freely.” Her mouth was on his, feral and needy while she coaxed him off the floor, slowly backing him across the room.
“Door—” she began when they separated a split second to tear his shirt over his head.
