"He wants answers.
She wants freedom.
She giggles and kisses my lips softly. “I live here, so I’m not escaping, frowny-face. I need to use the bathroom.” She wrestles out from underneath my hold, stretching her arm to the chair beside the bed. Sitting up on the edge, she slips on a satin robe before standing.
“Why are you covering up that body, babe? I was already hard waiting to watch you go,” I tease…except not at all teasing.
“What?” She glances over her shoulder with a sassy grin. “You don’t like it?” She looks at her silky attire and runs her hands over the robe enticingly. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been told pink is my color.” Her mouth turns down subtly the second the words escape; a faraway sadness ghosting across her eyes for a fleeting second before she quickly dismisses the thought away and fakes a smile.
A surge of nausea consumes me, a shiver elicited with the chill that creeps up my spine, the unfair devil of irony dousing me in frigid shame and guilt.
It’s her—my Jocelyn—was Devon’s…fascination, his ‘I hope she feels the same.’
I just made love to the woman my little brother never even got a chance to ask on a date.