Page 67 of Pose for Me
Kissing his forehead, I say, “Okay.” We’re quiet for a few seconds, then I ask, “Are you happy?”
His nod is immediate, and that strange feeling unfurls in my chest. “Yes. I love being here with you.”
“Still scared?”
Again he nods, and I smile, but then he adds, “But not for the reason you think.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, curiosity piqued.
Lane shakes his head.
No matter how much or how many ways I ask, Lane doesn’t answer. He yawns widely, so I let him be.
“You work in the morning?” he asks in a tired voice.
I shake my head. “After the cases today, I decided to take tomorrow off, too.”
“Maybe we can watch a movie?”
“Okay, Lane,” I say as my eyes drift closed. Doing a turn and burn for a murder scene and ransacking the house is busy work. Before I know it, I’m pulled under into dreamland.
Sunlight streams through my window,stabbing into my closed lids. I grunt and turn over, searching for Lane so I can cuddle him close. It’s been a while since I’ve slept in, and I want to snuggle with my boy.
I pat the bed beside me, then reach behind me, thinking I’ll run into warm flesh. Instead, I’m met with the cool mattress.
Sitting up suddenly, I look around the room and find it empty. The cuff that was locked on Lane’s leg is still by the window from when I unlocked it last night.
Scrambling out of bed, I scoop up my phone and rush out of the room. If he had gotten out of the house through the door, my alarm would have sounded and I would have been on him before he could get far. The windows likewise would have alerted me. So how did Lane get away?
Checking my phone, I see that I didn’t arm the lock to the front door last night. So if Lane tried the door and found it unlocked, he would have run for sure.
Fuck, how far away did he get? Did he find the keys for my car? Was he able?—
Before I can open the front door to search for him, I hear noises coming from the kitchen.
Walking in that direction, I turn the corner. Lane is at the stove, humming as he scrambles eggs.
He’s still here.
My knees almost give out in relief as I watch him push eggs around the pan with a spatula.
My heart rate calms as he moves his hips to music only he can hear. He has on a pair of the panties I got him yesterday—a pair of silk cheekies, so the meat of his ass hangs from the bottom. The delicate material is such a contrast to his toned, hairy legs that I find my dick getting hard and my mouth watering.
Lane turns around to toss something into the garbage and finally sees me. He jumps nearly a foot in the air and places his hand on his chest. “Jesus, Ry. You scared the shit out of me.”
I tick my eyebrow up. “I’m sure I was more scared when I woke up alone in bed.”
Lane’s eyes grow wide. “Oh shit. I didn’t…I didn’t even think…” Then he narrows his eyes at me. “You thought I ran?”
I shrug. “What was I supposed to think?”
“Uh, that I would keep my fucking word when I said that I would stay here so you wouldn’t kill anyone else. What the fuck, Ryell?”
Shame swamps me, and I marvel at the new emotion, but I don’t let it show.
But I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong, so I push off the wall I was leaning against and walk over to Lane, wrappinghim in a hug. His arms are crossed over his chest and he has a scowl on his face, but he lets me hold him.
“You’re right, Lane,” I murmur. “I thought you ran and you broke your word. I’m sorry.”
