Page 65 of Border Control
He sucks in a breath and a welter of colors spin past me, blues and purples and pinks. Each one has a different emotion: pride, loyalty, and a searing desire so hot I gasp. “Seeing you come undone. Knowing I’d served you well.”
He means it, too, the sincerity pulsing within him like a third heartbeat.
“You did a good job,” I reassure him.
“I know.”
That makes me laugh out loud, my chuckles echoing against the bare cavern of the barn.
“Alright, let’s make a contract. You teach me how to moderate my thoughts or whatever you said so I’m not putting myself on blast constantly, and…” I tip my face back to look up at him. “I’ll come up with some scenarios so we can investigate how to untangle me, and you’ll learn a few things about your desires in the process.”
His eyes flare, a brief spark of dark violet.
“Deal?” I press.
His strong arms squeeze me tighter. “I don't need to make a contract. Teach me everything about you and your wants, Law-rah. When I'm here with you, I want to serve each and every one. As well as teach you how to navigate the bond. For Nevare.”
Warmth trickles over my skin in a pleasant wave, like I’ve stepped into the sun. Still… “I don’t like owing anyone anything. A contract sets this up properly. So, deal?”
Looking down briefly, Dom says, “Of course, Law-rah.”
Marvellous. While we're here, hidden away from everyone else, safe in our secret fantasy, I remain in control.
“Good boy. We start tomorrow.”
SEVENTEEN
LAURA
My brilliant plan tolet him twist with anticipation? It’s seriously backfiring. I should be focusing on work—on making sure the inquiry won’t suffer because of my absence yesterday. That’s what matters. That’s whathasto matter. If I can’t hold myself together forthis, for the most important case of my life, then every carer depending on me will pay the price.
A hollow pressure in my chest creeps in like smoke under a door—formless, nameless, justrisk. A danger I can’t see or name, yet it prickles over my skin as if something’s watching. My pulse stutters. My stomach twists.
I know what this is.
No. It’s not back. I sorted it. It’s done.
“Stop,” I whisper, slamming the phone down hard enough to rattle the papers across my desk. The sound echoes too loud, like an accusation.
I scowl at the mess, dragging everything into order with shaking hands. I’ve already wasted one morning. That means I’ll have to put in double effort so the victims don’t lose more than they’ve already endured, because of me.
We’re meeting today, sometime, to talk through how scenes with me will go. The uncertainty over when and where is getting to me, that’s all. Once it’s set, once I get it done, I’ll be able to breathe. I’ll be able to work with a clear head.
Only then—onlyafterthe case is secure—will I allow myself to imagine the ragged edge of his breaths, the way his chest heaves as he fights to stay calm and under control. And worse—daydreaming about what color his scales might flash if I pushed him. Bright, warning red? Or that luminous pink-purple, bold as a flare in the dark, like he’s not afraid to stand out?
My stomach cramps like a fist as I sip my coffee. Ouch. Fucking uterus kicking me when I’m already down. Slowly my period pains ease up, and I know, somehow, Dom’s involved. It’s as if there’s a conversation next to me, or a television on in the background. When I lean physically and mentally closer to the wall between us, I feel the soft burn in his muscles as he lifts blocks and beams with Arik and Arture.
He's working. On a Saturday.
I get off the sofa and into the kitchen as Ellen and Ilia clatter into the room. The big alien ducks his head at me, and my bestie says, “Morning.”
“Morning.” I set my cup under my machine and push for a cappuccino. “The aliens are still working.”
She washes her hands at the sink. “Yeeee-es. But so are you, and I don't take weekends off either.”
Ilia slides his arms around her shoulders. “You could. I'll care for the farm.”
She tips her head back and pecks his lips with a kiss. His scales ripple briefly, and she grins. “Don't worry, I love my work.”
