With clear reluctance, Creed rolled us both out of his bed then he waited until I put my jacket on. We walked, silent, hand in hand out of his house and through the woods to my back gate.
There, as always, he stopped me, turned into me and, as always lately, he bent low, framing my face with his hands and he kissed me light and sweet.
A different kind of good-bye kiss, not as good but just as precious.
“See you tomorrow, Creed,” I whispered.
“Tomorrow, baby,” he whispered back.
I grinned up at him but I knew it was fake.
So did Creed.
But still, with no choice, he let me go and, with no choice, I went.
A few more months.
Just a few.
Then Creed and I would be free.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tomatoes, Toe-mah-toes
Present day, six days later…
Creed lay on his stomach, hand shoved under the pillows, leg cocked, face turned toward me, eyes closed.
He was still sleeping.
I was on my knees in the bed beside him, watching.
The covers were pulled up to his waist. I knew what lay under them was naked but as I looked that way, all I saw was our lake, our pier and my name in flowers painted on his back.
Lifting a hand, starting between his shoulder blades and trailing a fingertip lightly down his spine, when I got there, I traced my name backwards, starting with the “e”. I knew he came awake at my first touch but I took my time, studying the tat, my finger’s movements. As I finished the “S”, my finger slid across the top of his ass and down, taking the covers with me.
I felt my vagina spasm as I exposed his fine, sculpted behind and my eyes drifted back up his back, his tat to his eyes, seeing their startling blue on me. He hadn’t moved, just his eyes had shifted to me and the look in them made my gut pitch.
God, how could he make lying there on his stomach hot?
I didn’t know. He just did.
That was Creed.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey,” he whispered back then moved, swiftly.
Knifing partly up, his arm snaked out fast, hand hooking me around the back of my neck. He pulled me down to him and kissed me, hard and wet.
I experienced another highly pleasant vagina spasm before he lessened the pressure of his hand on my neck, allowing me back three inches.
When he did, I declared, “I hope I never, ever get used to you sleeping next to me. I hope I never, ever get used to waking up next to you. And I hope I never, ever lose thinking how every kiss you give me is pure beauty.”
I watched his eyes, still slightly sleepy, flare before he murmured, “Jesus, Sylvie.”
I held his gaze and warned softly, “You should always be ready.”
I caught a nanosecond of his brows drawing together before I flew backwards. Breaking from his hold, my quickness and momentum making it so when I hit my back, I could curl my legs and hips over and do a backwards somersault. I landed on my feet by the side of the bed. Reaching down, I grabbed the two Nerf blasters and a bunch of ammo packs I had stored under the bed. I tossed one toy gun on the mattress with some reloads before I lifted my gun and took aim.
I half expected Creed to balk. He said he didn’t play at work.
This would be totally unfun.
Luckily, the minute I lifted my fake weapon, he went back on this declaration. I knew it because his arm shot out, he grabbed the gun and rolled, disappearing with a loud thump on the other side of the bed.
It should be noted, he did all this before I even got a fucking shot off!
Shit!
He was good. Even at Nerf!
Wearing my undies and cami, I darted out the door, plastered my front to the wall by the side of the jamb and peered around, me and my gun.
A Nerf dart shot by me, so close I could feel the whiz of air kiss my cheek.
Shit!
He was seriously good.
I pulled back, fired off two blind, heard heavy footfalls which meant Creed was on the move, so I dashed down the hall to find cover.
I hit the living room and threw myself behind the couch. I shoved one reload into my panties, kept the other in hand and when I heard Creed coming down the hall, I lifted up, aiming at the doorway.
He hit it wearing faded jeans only partly done up and I immediately unleashed a hail of dart fire. One glanced off Creed’s shoulder, another off his arm before he returned fire and disappeared behind an armchair.
I ducked behind the couch, reloaded and got up to a crouch, peeking over the back, not seeing Creed. I straightened further, backing away, gun pointed in his direction as I headed toward the entryway.
I heard a, “Meow,” and spared a glance down at Gun who was sitting in the entryway looking up at me.
Her “meow” was not a “what the fuck are you doing?” meow. She was used to my whacky behavior. Although, I’d never had a Nerf fight in the house, my whacky behavior had run the gamut so she wasn’t alarmed. Her “meow” was a “when the fuck are you gonna feed me?” meow.
I looked back Creed’s way, still backing up as I muttered, “In a second, Gunny.”