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She’s busy.
There’s no fuss over it. I’m not interested in barging my way into whatever case she’s working, and if she needs me, she knows where to look.
Tonight, it’s a bath.
It took me six months to start having showers that weren’t two-minutes long under cold water, and now I’m here taking long baths using up all the hot water Piltover has. My seventeen-year-old self would be rolling at this life I’m living, losing her shit that this is where I end up: In a bathroom where everything is gilded in gold with a tub big enough to fit four people.
When I was really little, sometimes Mom and Dad had trouble getting water in the house, so Powder and I would have to share baths. With Vander, we staggered our bathing days so we didn’t use up too much water or the gas to heat it.
These days, I can take a hot shower for as long as I want or sit in a bath for hours, and it’s open to me anytime, day or night, and nobody’s coming in to tell me I can’t.
I don’t take these things for granted. I know it can all go away in less than a breath. Every drop of hot water on my skin reminds me what I’ve lost and fought for.
The bath tonight seems like the perfect thing to do while Cait works her big brain on her latest case, and I like having the time to myself anyway, so I find Cait’s bubble bath and grab a book to read while I soak.
It’s a book about two people who fall in love while trying to kill each other. Cait says she has no idea where it came from, but I found it in her library, and some of the pages look dog-eared, so I’m pretty sure she’s just embarrassed I found out she likes trashy romance. But she loves me, so I guess she’s always known what she likes.
Reading is something I’ve always loved to do, but it’s not something I talk about—my private life is mine, thanks—but after a few months of being in this huge house, I started reading more than ever because this place has multiple library rooms filled with every kind of book there ever was. At first, reading a book was just an easy way to relax before sleep, especially the nights when Cait was working, but then it became something I looked forward to any time of day. There weren’t a lot of books around while growing up and I didn’t have enough time alone to read a lot in the first place, so it wasn’t something I could have ever pursued.
It’s all mine now. Any book, on any topic, at any time. I should pay some thanks to those Kiramman ancestors—they definitely knew someday their great-granddaughter would fall for an Undercity orphan who really likes to read and really likes to punch people in the jaw—I’m multi-talented like that. Sometimes I even read about techniques to punch people (there’s an entire section of a library dedicated to the “fighting arts”) but mostly I like Cait’s guilty-pleasure trashy romance books. I like to imagine her reading them late at night under her covers, exploring all the ways she can give herself pleasure.
The bubbles smell like mint. Like Cait. She’s always washing herself down with things that smell fresh and clean. I never bother with my own washing stuff, I just use hers. She told me it’s “ours”, but there’s something in me that can’t resist the feeling I get when I think of it as her soap that I get to use under the table.
Trailing back to those icy cold showers in Stillwater, I now like my baths so hot my skin nearly burns, and that’s how it is when I step into the bath, hot water stinging before smoothing out into a warm cocoon that smells of Cait.
Life’s just about hit peak pleasure—I’m in a hot bath with a book in my hands while the Piltover sunset beams pink and orange through the window next to me, colouring the bubbles and the water to look like rose petals.
Everything’s quiet for a while and I float away into my book.
I’m just about to start the good part where the two enemies are going to break under the force of their attraction to each other when Cait strolls into the bathroom.
We don’t close the bathroom door when we’re in here bathing. We agreed on it mutually for protection reasons—if anything happens, we’d be able to hear it come running. She’s weird about bathrooms and so am I, so it works.
It is a surprise to see her though since she usually leaves me to it when I want a bath, and I thought she’d be busy all night anyway.
She sits down on the closed toilet seat and slumps. If her perfect posture is fading, she’s really struggling.
“I’m stumped,” Cait says. “I cannot figure this out. I’ve been staring at the board for three hours, going over my intel, but I’m missing something and I can’t pinpoint what.”
At this point, I’m not sure if she wants my help or just wants to vent, so I don’t close the book but turn the page pointedly, glancing briefly at her, but she’s staring at the floor with that intense furrowed-brow thing she does when she’s pissed at herself.
“You looking for a distraction or someone to go over your notes with you?” I ask, crossing my legs at the ankle under the water, not at all ready to leave this glorious hot water. “Or just a sympathetic ear?”
“I don’t know,” Cait says with a sigh. “I think I need a break. I should stop looking at it. Maybe sleep on it.”
“That’s a good idea,” I say, focusing on the page I’m reading, but I can’t help but be aware of her, and how she’s standing up, walking over. “You’ll probably wake up in the middle of the night and figure out your missing piece.”
The words on the page stumble my brain briefly—I’ve just seen the word “nipple” and now I’m really invested—but then I hear her make a soft noise in her throat followed by the sound of something soft hitting the floor.
It’s actually hard to tear my eyes from the page—come on, they’re about to get nasty!—but then I’m face to face with…
Well.
Cait is extremely good at undressing herself very quickly, and she really enjoys walking around braless, and it’s usually not something I think about in any conscious way until I’m suddenly staring at her bare chest.
“Uh,” I say.
She’s all smiles, toothy and sweet, and her warm flirty giggle makes my body tighten.
“Think you could stand some company, love?”
This was meant to be my bath with my book and my relaxation. I’m not quite ready yet to give her what she wants.
“I dunno. Kinda into this book. They’re sucking nipples, you know.”
She laughs, still flirty, but genuinely amused, and her breasts bounce softly with her chest rising and falling. I’m drawn to them, obviously, but also to the way her ribs expand, something so elegant about her breathing even though that’s completely stupid to think. Who looks at someone breathing and feels warm and gooey inside over it?
Apparently me.
“Mm—I see that nipples can be very distracting,” Cait says, standing up straighter. “But what if I really want your company right now?”
And there go her leggings.
I watch her step out of them, yanking them off her feet, tossing them with a kick across the tiled floor.
She doesn’t bother with panties very often either.
The rope of muscle in her thighs catches my breath as she juts her hip. Then she lifts her arms to release her ponytail, and by the time I realize I’m staring with my jaw hanging open and my hands slowly lowering the book, she’s looking at me like a smug little mongoose.
The book just about hits the water but I notice it before that happens and end up closing it and placing it down gently on the small table beside the tub. I’m only turned away from her for less than a second but that’s all she needs, and she’s in the tub, her legs brushing mine while she slides herself up my body.
There’s no stopping it now. She’s got what she wants and I’m only too happy about it like the sucker I am. I’m wrapped around her right away, pulling her between my legs, her chest, so soft and sexy, pressing up to mine.
“Mmm—nipples,” I say, nipping her nose. “I was reading about them sucking nipples. You think you can interrupt my book like this?”
“My nipples do,” Cait says with a grin.
She pushes against me, her tits pressing hard into mine, and she knows I love that so much that I’ll short-circuit.
Her tongue is in my mouth after two warm kisses, and then she’s devouring me, pushing me back into the tub, making all kinds of soft breathy sounds.
She must be really frustrated if she’s this horny.
Most of the time when Cait is stumped, she does things like review evidence, sleep on it, go shooting to release steam, or even pick a fight with me.
But sometimes she gets horny.
“You are wild right now,” I murmur into her ear. “You want me to take your mind off things, baby?”
“I want to—mmm—feel you, Vi…and…”
Her lips are mouthing around my ear.
“And?”
“I really want to fuck you…”
Oh, shit. That goes right between my legs, which I wrap around her waist because she’s kissing me into the tub and I’m gonna sink if I don’t cling to her.
She sucks down my neck after she drags her mouth from mine, and her hungry sighs surge inside me. I can’t stop touching her, shoving my hands under the water so I can grope at her tits, which are just more than a handful, and I want my face all over them.
“Baby—I want to—mmmf—”
She just keeps kissing me and I can’t get my bearings enough to stop it or turn the tables or do anything but keep running my hands all around her ass and thighs while her tongue pushes and presses against mine.
I love it when she kisses me like this, when she won’t stop growling and groaning and pushing up against me.
Her hips start moving, gyrating in that rocking rhythm that sends memories of how she fucks me so good searing to the forefront of my mind.
I can barely breathe. I have to tear away from her kisses, panting into her hair, half of it now damp, kissing on her ear while she whimpers softly because I can’t resist trailing my fingertip along her pussy.
“Mm, I want more of this,” I murmur.
“Vi…”
She’s so breathy, sounds so needy. I can’t help but slip my finger between her folds while grinning against her ear.
“But you said you wanna fuck me, huh?”
“Into next week,” Cait growls—and then gently sighs. “I’m sorry to ruin your bath, love. I hope you forgive me.”
Laughing into her neck, I can feel how tight her tendons are, so I bite her there—gently.
“You can earn my forgiveness if you—”
“Done,” she snaps, standing up so fast the water splashes down all over me. “Darling. Stand up.”
I’m already so aroused by her that my legs are a bit wobbly, so I let her help me up and lean on her while she kisses me, steps out of the tub with me, grabs the towel and dries us both in swift, rough pats.
I can’t get over her ass when she turns away briefly, and I’m smacking it with a rough grope, loving how she turns and glares at me.
“Sorry—your ass just gets to me,” I say.
“Get on the bed, Vi.”
God, she is in full Kiramman Mode, except also horny. I like it. It’s fun when she looks at me like she’s gonna get fed.
The bed is always perfectly made in the mornings, but not by either of us, which I’m grateful for because there’s no way I could get these tight corners, but even though I get on it, she tears at the covers, shoving them down around me, forcing me to lift my hips so she can get them all bunched at the bottom of the bed.
“What are you doing, you mad woman?”
“Prepping. This way don’t have to change them after,” she growls.
I laugh. “You think it’s gonna get that messy?”
She shoves me to my back and grabs my thighs to part them open, sliding herself on top of me, kissing me into the pillows.
Fair enough.
Losing myself in her mouth, I wrap my thighs around her rounded hips.
Her hip bones sometimes cut into me, but I like it. I like how her bones feel when they jut into my flesh, bump against my muscles. My bones aren’t so pronounced. Sometimes I wonder what she feels when I press into her.
“Your hips are sharp,” I sigh.
“Your abs can take it,” she says lowly. “You can take it.”
“Mm, can I? What if I want—ow, damn!”
She just bit my nipple.
Her gaze flicks up at me from beneath her eyelashes, her lips around my nipple, and she’s got that smug look again.
Unhinged sexy mongoose. I love it.
Her teeth meet both my nipples, her lips and tongue warmly following, giving me all that stinging pain soothed with warm, wet licks and sucks that pool heat between my legs. My hips hump up against her.
She leans over me, arms on either side of my head, her tits dangling there, begging for my hands to grope them, which I do with much enjoyment, and then she’s spreading my legs even wider.
I have to look, have to watch as she pushes in close, her pussy lowering against mine.
Who just made that weak, pathetic whine?
Oh. Me.
She’s breathing so heavily, low-pitched throaty moans filling my head, and I watch her undulate her hips, her soft labia pressing against mine, warm and slick. When the press of her bone and pussy start pushing against my clit, I’m making more of those whiny noises and I can’t stop because my hands are full of her tits, my ears are full of her moans, and my pussy is already soaked.
She pulls back slightly and I watch as a little string of our wetness clings between us. She leans down to kiss me, pressing her warm pussy back to mine, and the pleasure zings around my body while she rocks against me, knowing that as she grinds my clit, hers is getting the same treatment too. Somehow that’s the thing that amps it up tenfold and I’m so hot I can’t contain myself, gripping her hair in my hands, mashing our mouths in a messy kiss while we rock together.
She’s panting through her nose. I can feel her arms trembling. I gotta breathe.
“Fuck,” I gasp. “Fuck, this feels good.”
Her hand smooths down my chest, runs down my stomach, presses flat against my lower-belly. Her thumb is warm on my clit.
“So pretty,” she breathes. “Perfect, V…”
I can’t watch anymore, it’s too overwhelming, I have to sink back into the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut as her hot, wet pussy rubs all over mine, her thumb working my clit in gentle circles.
There’s only one thought in my head: I want her.
But she’s rubbing her hand up my stomach again, my clit left alone and aching, and she grabs my chin in her hand. I look up at her, at her pink cheeks, at her dark, glassy gaze, and I’m ready for anything.
“I want to fuck you,” she says. “Can I—”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “Anything.”
Then I’m left shivering when she pulls away from me and gets off the bed.
I know what she’s doing so I take the time to rub at myself, soaked and hot, fingers sliding around my clit, the pleasure warming like sparks in my belly, making my pussy throb. I slide a finger into myself, to the knuckle, and rub around inside myself for a minute of blistering pleasure.
And then she’s back, wearing her harness with the blue-coloured dick I like so much attached to it. She doesn’t wait and gets between my legs right away, kissing me while she rubs her dick between my pussy folds, the squishy head all up on my clit which has me humping against it, sliding my hands all over her back.
She got a tattoo there. It was inked by me, since I did all my own, only I could use proper equipment this time around. It’s a small thing on her shoulder blade, and it’s the same gear I have on my neck with a bullet going through it. I can’t help but rub my hand all over it, knowing it’s there because she wanted it to be, because she wanted me to put it there. Marking her.
Mine.
She’s kissing at my neck, sucking on my ear, tonguing it, licking down my jaw, then sucking my nipples again, hands gripping my tits in groping, massaging handfuls, all while she pushes her dick against my pussy in slow, sliding strokes.
I know she’s pleasuring her own clit with this, but I also know it won’t be enough to give either of us what we’re looking for, and I’m getting antsy for more when she looks up at me again and tears her mouth from my tits.
“Ready?” she asks.
“I was ready when you interrupted my bath,” I say.
“Mm, were you really? You’re gonna need some stretching, love…”
I might have whined again—damnit—but the head of her cock slides against me and the burn of the stretch as she pushes it inside has my pussy squeezing. She pushes it in a bit and then back out, the pop of the head stretching me open each time she goes back in. I have to clutch at her back, fingers digging into that tattoo, my pussy opening for her like a sweet burn that sinks into my lower back.
“Mm, sweetheart,” Cait whispers. “If you could see yourself…”
I’m sure I wouldn’t know what to do if I could. I don’t want to. The feeling of her cock pushing in deeper and deeper each time she re-enters me is so delicious I can’t bear to think of the weird faces I’m making. There’s a specific kind of heat that erupts when her hard cock presses up against my inner walls that makes me feel like I’m melting or about to scream, and when she hits it I can’t even get the chance to breathe because her mouth is on mine, tongue deep inside me, and all I can do is whimper loudly and fuck myself on her cock for a second of rapid, hungry gyrating. I want to bear down on that cock and feel it pushing me open. Open for her. Just for her.
Tearing my mouth away, I’m gasping for air while she slowly rolls and rocks her hips, continually stretching and massaging me inside, and then she straightens up, grips my thighs and starts going fast and tight. Her warm thumb sends shocks of tight pleasure through me as she rubs my clit, and I’m so fucking wet that the sounds of her cock filling me over and over reach beyond the sounds of our heavy breathing and moans to each other.
“You’re so gorgeous, sweetheart,” Cait moans. “Look at you—taking me so perfectly.”
I want to kiss her so badly but she’s resisting my grabbing hands at her face, kissing my palm instead, trailing her lips down my fingers, sucking two into her mouth, all while she looks right at me. Heat surges around my insides. My chest squeezes.
“You’re needier than me,” I murmur. “Sucking my fingers like that.”
She closes her eyes and nods, cheeks somehow flushing pinker, and I can tell she knows very well how she’s behaving, and that she both loves it and chews on it like the piece of a puzzle.
Her moods can be mercurial. I don’t mind.
Especially not when I get this.
Her stunning tits dangle again when she leans over me further, slightly changing the angle, and that makes me bury my face against her tits while her dick fills me right the root and presses against my insides like I’m just here to feel this, only this.
The pleasure builds up in me like hot lava about to melt the bed. I don’t try to keep it in, my clit under her thumb shooting tight heat into my belly until it breaks.
Release hits me hard with my mouth against her tits. I’m shaking, the bed is shaking, and she fucks me through it, roaring pleasure in my pussy squeezing hard around her cock while she fights to keep fucking me—my pussy is trying to suck her in and keep her there.
She says I do the same thing with her tongue when she’s got her face mashed to my pussy.
It’s not like she’s any better. Her gorgeous pussy visibly pulses when she comes and she’ll drip all that wetness just for my tongue. I love to rub around her squeezing little hole with my wet finger while I lap at her clit when I eat her out.
And just thinking of that sends me back into my orgasm like it was brand new, and I can’t stop moaning into the flesh of her breasts while she chuckles and keeps snapping her hips in hard, slamming thrusts that send me into the stars.
I love that hard kind of hit in my pussy.
“More,” I gasp. “Harder. I can take it.”
It’s a matter of seconds before I’m suddenly on all fours, blearily aware of her moving me around like a doll, her hands smacking my ass around like she’s a cat with a toy before she slams back into me, gripping my hair in one hand so she can yank my head back and kiss at my ear.
“Remember you said that.”
We’ve been down this road before. I say things, she thinks she can outdo me, and all that happens is we get soaking wet and come all over the place.
Which is probably the point.
I have to grip the edge of the bed to keep from my head getting smashed into the headboard because she’s moving us up the mattress with every thrust into me. She’s breathing hard like she’s in a fight, like she’s about to play a win-or-die scenario, and even if I wanted to say something snappy at her, it’s impossible to talk while my pussy is getting pounded from behind like this.
Dropping my head into the sheets, I have to rest my arms for a minute, pant against the soft material, and she pushes back into me, snapping tightly, and that angle…
“Fuuuck,” I groan, snapping my hips in reflex at the intense, mind-blistering pleasure that shoots straight from my pussy to the top of my head.
I’m fucking myself on her dick at exactly the right angle like this. It’s only blistering seconds later I’m on the verge of coming again, this time from deep inside my pussy because her dick is at exactly the right place, the build up of pleasure scorching me alive, sweat down my back while my pussy releases. I might be screaming into the sheets, or I might just be dying, legs shaking so hard I’m falling, but Cait’s got her hand under my belly, keeping me lifted just enough that I can keep squirming on her dick, riding out the pleasure for as long as I can take it while she snaps and rolls her hips in tandem with me.
I love her hand there, on my lower belly, pressing into me.
“Fuck me into the bed,” I moan. “I need you to.”
She releases me enough that I flop bonelessly onto my belly, flat on the bed, and she drops herself on me, wiggling her dick back inside my pussy that aches and burns around her. Her tits warmly press to my back, her hair draping over my face when she leans over and I turn my head to breathe.
Gonna die here. I’m so ready.
She fucks me like that, less about thrusting and more about wiggling, rolling, pushing motions, groping for my hand so she can hold it while I make all kinds of noises I can’t admit to.
I can hear her chasing her own release, I can feel it in her erratic hips and the way she’s rolling and humping against me, panting hard in my ear.
“Did you come already, baby?” I ask, groaning into her hair that’s tickling my lips.
“Yes,” she moans. “While you were riding me just now. God you’re so hot…I’m gonna come again…”
“Mmm, I’d rather you do it on my mouth.”
“Shit,” she moans. “Will you—”
I don’t answer, just press up and shift and force her off. I want her on her back, and I want my face between her thighs. These are easily accomplished once the harness and cock are gone, and if I was feeling it, I might take that cock and bring it to her mouth while I kiss her with my tongue lapping at the tip, but I’m more interested in her pussy than in games.
The harness has left reddened imprints on her thighs and I’m mouthing at them, licking and kissing, kneading and groping at her thighs that I’m hoping wrap around my head in a minute.
“V, love….Don’t tease me, not right now…” Cait says tightly. “I need to—”
“I know, baby,” I murmur to her thigh.
She parts her legs wide open and the tendons and bones of her hips and thighs were made for my hands to grip while I lick at her pussy, tasting her musk like she’s the treat I’ve been longing for my whole life. I have to release my hold on her thigh to tease her clit with my finger, using only the softest, lightest touch while I tongue around her opening, feeling the pulses already starting.
“Fuck, oh god,” Cait moans, hips undulating. “More—I need—”
I don’t reply to her because my tongue is feeling the flutters of her pussy. I keep my fingertip doing exactly the same thing, feather-light touches in circles, letting her lifting hips generate just enough friction for her to customize the exact pressure that’ll send those flutters into full-blown orgasmic pulses.
She hits it in a matter of seconds, hands gripping my hair, fucking against my face, making sounds that hit my chest as much as my ears.
Bringing her off is actually one of my favourite things in life. It’s not a thing I can say in public or admit out loud to even her because it seems like people want to pride themselves on their jobs, but her orgasm is one of the best things I could ever hope to participate in.
It goes on for as long as she can stand my finger on her clit like that. When it reaches the point she finds it painful, she pushes my hand away and gasps my name in her smooth, throaty voice.
I know my face is wet, my tongue is numb, my jaw might never properly close again, and my pussy is so well-fucked I might not be able to walk tomorrow, and I’m thinking that was the best use of our evening I could have dreamed of.
“Was that…was that worth the interrupted bath?” Cait asks, panting. “Just need to know for future reference.”
“Only because you hijacked my brain with your tits,” I say. “Which was a dick move.”
Cait laughs in such a deep rumble, so warm sounding, that I’m pressing my face to her chest just to feel it under my cheek.
“I gave you what you wanted,” she says.
Her fingers slide through my hair, combing it, smoothing it down. I settle.
“The bed’s a mess,” I say.
My hip is pressed into something damp.
“Wet patch,” Cait says in a firm tone. “All yours, love. As I knew. It’ll be easy to fix. Give me a sec, I need to catch my breath.”
I kiss over where her heart is and then meet her lips for the world’s slowest, laziest kiss. It’s more like breathing into her mouth while our lips kind of…mash and rub blindly.
“Know what? There’s still bath water. We could go back in it,” I say.
“It’ll be cold now,” Cait says. “And I should—”
“If you say get back to work and rob me of after-sex cuddles, I will smack your ass in public for a month. Even if your dad is there.”
Cait scoffs. “No you won’t. You can’t scare me, I know you.”
I can’t stand such an affront to my ego, and somehow we start wrestling when all I wanted to do was poke at her sides until she laughed, but now she’s got me pinned under her and she’s panting, but she’s also not really looking at me, more like past me, through me. It’s not an insult, it’s her “figuring it out” face.
And that’s what she does a moment later, sitting upright with messy sex-hair sticking up in crazy directions, all the red marks I left on her neck and thighs screaming at me to look, and she’s gazing at me slack-jawed.
“I think I have it backwards. I think I have to rework my timeline. It wasn’t a random attack—it was planned and staged to look that way,” Cait says. “Vi. It was planned.”
She talks like I’ve been working the case with her the whole time, which I have not been, but I nod anyway, smoothing down her hair, cupping her jaw in my hand.
“So who planned it?”
“That’s the question!” she bursts. “Who indeed? I have to—oh.”
I can see her struggle here. Stay in bed, or work?
“Cuddles,” I say firmly. “Which cannot wait. Your case can.”
She’s torn, I can see it, but she does settle back to the bed and pulls me with her.
“How long—”
“Five goddamn minutes, woman,” I say with a huff to her neck. “You stole my bath from me and you want to leave me in bed alone after all that?”
“I don’t want to,” she says.
“So don’t—”
“It’s just that I know I can get to the bottom of this if I stay up all night.”
I’m not letting her do that alone. I don’t know what case this is, but I’ll get filled in later because of course I’ll be up all night with her.
Post-sex stuff first, thanks. I have needs.
Getting her mind off the case requires me to bring her back into bed, so I hold her to me and nuzzle into her hair.
“What did you like the most?” I ask.
She relaxes against me, sighing. “All of it.”
“Besides that.”
“When I took my clothes off and you looked at me like you were starving.”
“Mmm—yeah, that was good. Anything else?”
“From the back,” Cait said softly. “Your back, V…When you…and then I…”
Good, good, she was back where I wanted her.
“And then?”
“And then I came when you did,” she said.
“Mm, yeah you did,” I say into her hair. “Gorgeous, perfect girl.”
“I really did interrupt your bath to fuck you into the mattress, didn’t I?”
I laugh, I can’t help it, she sounds almost dismayed at herself.
“You got the old horny itch—happens to us all.”
“Sometimes I think I get possessed,” she says. “When I look at you. I only wanted to talk because I was so frustrated, but you were soaking in the tub with the bubbles and you looked so sexy… I think I lost my mind.”
“Welcome to my world,” I say.
She punches me.
I rear back, whimpering. “Cait! I’m delicate here!”
“You’re a big pile of muscles wrapped in sugar and spice. You can handle it.”
“I’m hurt, I’m wounded, I’m dying—leave me now, I have to go in peace…”
She wraps around me, giggling into my neck, and I’m as content as a woman like me could ever possibly be.
Which is to say: I’m the happiest bitch on the planet.
“Give me ten,” I say. “Then we can work your case. All night.”
“Really? You don’t have to.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
She hums, looking at me for a long moment. I kiss the tip of her nose.
“I’ll make the tea,” she says. “You help me string my thoughts together.”
I only take tea with a hefty splash of whiskey. That is, all whiskey, no tea. But I like the cute little teacups.
“Deal. Hey,” I say. “Love you.”
Her smile against my lips fills my body.
“Love you,” she says.
We stay up till sunrise while we figure out her case. I’ve got the red strings in the right places, and we’re satisfied with our lead suspect given the evidence we have.
She falls asleep on the armchair by the fire while the soft sunrise that streams across the room. She’d been in the middle of discussing how we’re going to approach our lead suspect but never fully got there because she went out like a light. It’s cute—one second she’s talking strategy and then she’s passed out asleep.
I carry her to bed. I pull the curtains shut. I lie down next to her.
Ain’t life something.
—
THE END.