His Reverie (Reverie #1)(67)
“No.” She shakes her head, her hair catching on the stubble on my jaw. “Evan sent me a text saying he told our parents that we were at his friend’s house spending the night. I thanked him for covering me.”
“Where’s he at really?”
“I don’t know but he reassured me that everything’s okay. And I believe him.” She pauses, her gaze dropping from mine. “He knows about us…sort of.”
“He does?” I can hardly believe it. “And he hasn’t tried to stop you from seeing me?”
“He says it’s my life to live. Evan may act like he doesn’t care and fine, most of the time he doesn’t, but he’s never stopped me from doing what I want. He feels just as stifled by our lifestyle and the image we have to maintain as I do.”
“You feel stifled?” I thought she liked being Reverend Hale’s daughter.
“Why do you think I’m not on the TV show anymore? Though that was more Evan’s doing. He was sick and tired of being paraded around like little perfect dolls. He didn’t want to be an example of a good Christian son. He just wanted to live his life, you know?” She’s stroking my chest again. I find her touching me incredibly distracting. As in, I’m going to attack her in the next few minutes if she doesn’t stop kind of distracting.
“Do you still feel guilty about what we’ve done? What we’ve—shared?” I grab hold of her wrist to make her stop touching me but she doesn’t. Instead, she curls her hand into mine, somehow interlinking our fingers together.
“No. We may have committed a sin according to the Bible for having sex before marriage but…” She clears her throat. “I love you. And I want to be with you. I don’t think that’s a sin, to become physical with the one person you care about more than anyone else. It’s the purest form of expression if you ask me.”
“You make what we’ve done sound almost poetic,” I tease and she lifts her head to glare at me, though I know she’s not really angry.
“It is. The way you touch me…what it feels like when you first—um, enter me.” She stumbles over the words. “It almost brings tears to my eyes. I know I probably feel too much or whatever but I love it. I love you.”
I cup the back of her head and bring her mouth to mine once more. She’s a complete romantic. She is the epitome of the fairy princess looking for her one true love coming to rescue her.
And I’m just the lucky son of a bitch she set her sights on. Somehow I’m the one who makes her happy. And that’s all I want, for Reverie to be happy.
“I want to try and bring tears to your eyes again,” I murmur against her seeking lips, making her smile. “You game?”
“Always,” she whispers as I roll her over so she’s beneath me. She wraps her legs around my hips, anchoring her body to mine. “Always…”
38
Disaster: a calamitous event
August 6th
I crack open my eyes to find flashing lights. Red and blue appear again and again on my bedroom walls, as if going round and round. I squint against the darkness, against the continuous lights, and I know in an instant what it is.
Police cars.
Turning my head, I check out the old alarm clock on my nightstand, the numbers 4:03 glowing red. Reverie is snug against me, sleeping hard, her back to my front, her perfect and very naked butt firmly lodged against my dick. I can still hear the rain since I kept my bedroom window cracked open. It’s lessened in intensity though still falling steadily.
And the red and blue lights keep flashing.
I try my best not to disturb her as I crawl out of bed and make my way to my window. Carefully I peel back the frayed curtain and stare at the parking lot. There are a couple of cop cars but only one with its lights on, though no siren blaring, thank Christ. Oh, and an ambulance is there too, its back doors spread open wide and a couple of paramedics pulling a gurney out of the back of it.
Someone’s been hurt. I scratch my chest and watch, nearly jump a mile when I feel a gentle hand touch me in between my shoulder blades.
“What’s going on?” Reverie asks quietly.
“I don’t know,” I say, never taking my eyes off the parking lot. “Couple of cop cars out there. And an ambulance. Maybe someone had a heart attack or something. Or they’re responding to a domestic violence call.” There have been plenty of those around here since we moved in. They’re a pretty common occurrence.
“Do they make you nervous? The police?”
I can’t lie, especially to her. “Yeah. I always worry they’re coming for me,” I confess.
She wraps her arms around me from behind, her hands settling low on my stomach. Just like that, everything within me comes alive at her touch. “I wish I could take away your worry,” she whispers, kissing my shoulder.
Reverie does. Just being here with me. Holding me and saying all the right things, I feel lighter. More at ease.
Until I see Krista’s dad being led to a police car, officers flanking either side of him and his hands behind his back. They must’ve arrested him. Or they’re taking him into custody. But for what?
“That’s Kirsta’s dad,” I say, moving closer to the window so Reverie has no choice but to let me go. “He looks like he’s being arrested.”