Chapter 30 Sloane
Sloane
I wake the next morning to the smell of bacon.
I search my memories briefly before recalling last night’s events, and the man who’s no longer in my bed as I reach around and pat the empty spot next to me.
I sit up, look down, and remember that I’m completely naked before walking over to my dresser and pulling out a pair of pajama shorts and a top.
I walk over to the bathroom to briefly make sure I’m presentable enough to face the man who’s not in my bed.
I look at myself in the mirror and laugh, covering my mouth with my hand.
My hair falls loosely around my shoulders, mildly tangled, but otherwise looks pretty great.
I run my hands through it, remembering the way Riven washed it for me.
So gentle in comparison to everything else he did to me.
My lips are swollen and a shade darker than usual.
I run the tips of my fingers over them lightly, recalling the way he kissed me like he might never get the chance to do it again.
I smile at the memory of it, and then immediately blush at what happened in the kitchen.
That is certainly a new one for me. I’ll never look at that ice cream scoop the same way again.
I head downstairs, stopping on the last step to take in the sight before me.
Riven is in my kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, flipping pancakes over my stove.
His biceps flex as he flips the pancakes with an ease that a man like him should not possess.
It looks so … natural, even though it shouldn’t.
His hair is disheveled, and loose strands fall over his forehead in that way that makes me want to run my hands through it over and over.
I clear my throat, stepping into the kitchen.
“Good morning, darling.” He looks up with a grin, the dimple in his left cheek showing off as usual.
There’s a light dancing behind his eyes that has me grinning.
He plates the pancakes next to the already cooked bacon and eggs, making my stomach growl.
I definitely worked up an appetite this time.
But first, coffee. I walk over to the coffee maker, and he stops me, grabbing my wrist.
“Nope. Sit down,” he orders, walking me around to the kitchen stool and sitting me on it.
“I got it,” he says, walking over to the coffee maker to brew me a cup.
The smell of the delectable liquid coming out of it makes me breathe in deeply, resting my head on my hands perched on the island’s top.
He pushes a full plate of food toward me.
“Sleep well?” he asks, grabbing the finished cup from the machine and setting it down before me. He turns toward the fridge, pausing to look back at me.
“Milk? Creamer?” he asks.
“Oh, um, there’s some oat milk in there,” I say back. “And very well.” He hands me the oat milk and walks around the island with his plate, sitting down beside me.
“What about you?” I ask, shoveling a piece of bacon into my mouth.
“Best sleep of my life,” he says, forking his eggs and bringing them to his lips. Those lips. I quickly avert my gaze back to my plate.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pausing with a fork full of eggs near his mouth.
“Never better,” I say, smiling as I take a sip of my coffee.
“You know what this means, right?” he asks, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. I’m not sure where he’s going with this.
“Nope, why don’t you enlighten me?” I say, grinning at him like a fool.
“That I’m never going to let you go now. You’re mine, Sloane. I hope you know that.” He’s still smiling, but there’s a serious tone to his words. I nearly choke on a bite of eggs. I cough, clearing my throat.
“Is that so?” I ask, keeping the conversation light as I turn my gaze toward him.
“Oh, you think I’m joking, do you?” he asks, laughing darkly.
“Sloane, listen to me and listen to me closely.” His expression shifts to one that’s dark, direct, and daring.
I set my fork down, swallowing. If his goal is to elicit fear, he’s off the mark.
Instead, my thighs clench at his words, and my cheeks are on fire.
He arches a brow, tilting his head to assess me.
“You are mine. If you run, I’ll catch you.
If you hide, I’ll seek you out. There is no place in this life, or the next, that I would not go to find you.
If I had to end human civilization to get to you, then I would.
If I had to burn it all to the fucking ground and then dig below the rubble, and all the way to the afterlife to take you from the devil himself, then I would. ”
I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe, like the space that he takes up is all-consuming and it’s pulling me down with it.
But instead of resisting the current, I let it drag me under.
When I think I’ll surely drown, he places a hand on my cheek, and I suck in a breath.
I surface and come crashing back into the realization of his words. His. I’m … his.
I reach up and place my hand over his as my eyes search his face for a hint of a joke where there isn’t one. “Yours,” I whisper.
“Mine,” he answers, brushing his thumb over my cheek. I lean into his hand before letting mine fall.
“So, no romantic grand proposals to be your girlfriend, then?” I laugh, returning my gaze to the food in front of me. He lets his hand fall.
“Was last night not romantic enough for you, Sloane?” He chuckles, the light returning to his eyes.
“Oh, it was something, alright. Although maybe not … romantic?” I say, proposing the last word as more of a question.
“Hmm. Something tells me you aren’t really the wine and dine type. Maybe more of a dessert person.” He smirks, nodding his head toward the ground. I follow his gaze, throwing a hand over my mouth and nearly choking on a piece of bacon. He dares to grin at me like a fool.
“Oh my God.” I laugh, hopping off the barstool to pick up the ice cream scoop and wine cork from the floor that we couldn’t be bothered to pick up last night.
“I left those there just for you, darling. In case you needed a reminder.” He’s still smirking at me, and if it wasn’t so freaking adorable, I’d smack it right off his face.
“Yeah, ya know, now that you say it, what did we do last night? My mind seems to be a little fuzzy,” I joke, knowing damn well what we did last night.
His eyes burn with an intensity that wasn’t there two seconds ago. For a second, I think he might strike like he’s a viper and I’m his prey.
“Oh, you think you’re smart, do ya?” My eyes flick down as he flips his fork over and places it on his tongue, closing his mouth around it and sucking.
“So smart,” I answer, and it comes out raspier than I intend.
That stupid, talented tongue. I meet his gaze again.
He pulls the fork out and sets it down, running his hands through his already tousled hair.
My hands are suddenly jealous of his. His eyes drift to the mostly empty plate in front of him, and he seems to be somewhere else entirely.
“You’re the calm in the chaos.” His words are so low that I’m almost sure I imagined them. I’m about to ask him to repeat them when he turns toward me. The blank expression he wore seconds before is nowhere to be found. He jumps up from the bar stool and lifts me from behind.
“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing and kicking my feet.
He starts tickling me, walking me toward the sofa, and tosses me down onto it softly.
He climbs on top of me to continue his playful assault.
I’m laughing so hard I’m almost crying, and he’s somehow aware of all the most sensitive places.
He starts laughing too as we tumble from the sofa and onto the ground.
He cups my head in his hands and rolls until I’m on top of him.
We both stop laughing at the same time. Our eyes meet, and something inside of me snaps right into place. His hand lifts, brushing the hair from my face and pushing it behind my ear. I move toward him, our lips nearly touching, when I hear my phone ring.
I sigh, dropping my forehead down to rest on his chest. I consider not answering. The ringing finally stops, only to start again.
“You should probably—”
“Get that,” I finish his sentence, pushing off of him to stand and walk over to my phone on the kitchen island. I look down at it and see “Alex” across the screen, which has me instantly checking the time.
“Shit,” I say. Riven stands from the floor and comes over to me, taking a seat on the stool next to me.
“Hi, Alex, I—” I say, answering my phone.
“Sloane! Geez, you had me worried for a second when you didn’t show for work this morning.” There’s genuine concern in his voice, and it makes me feel like shit.
“I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Alex. I’m getting dressed now. I’ll be there soon,” I say, standing from the barstool.
“Take your time. I’m just glad you’re okay. And Sloane, I’m … sorry about the file. You obviously saw it, and I—I should have called you right when it hit my desk.” I cringe, feeling a little bad for leaving it wide open and on my desk when I left.
“It’s fine, Alex. We can talk about it when I get in. I’ll see you soon,” I say, hanging up. I look at it for a few seconds before bringing my gaze back to Riven. He’s tense. His eyes assess mine as his jaw flexes.
“That was my boss. I was supposed to be at work an hour ago,” I say. He relaxes. “Why didn’t you tell me what time it was?” I tease.
“I was a little distracted,” he teases back.
“So, I should probably get ready,” I say, throwing a thumb over my shoulder toward the stairs.
He clears his throat, standing. “Of course, yeah. I have a meeting for work, and I also need to get ready for it.” He grabs his shirt and sweatpants hanging over the sofa, throwing them back on while I clear the plates in the kitchen.
He walks up behind me as I’m putting the plates in the sink.
I feel his breath near my right ear, and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand.