CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ridge

Sleeping in a holding cell is not comfortable. The cot is too small. This place smells terrible. I called my lawyer early this morning when they brought me in. I don’t know what the hell is taking him so long to arrange bail. I gave my statement, and this is the thanks I get.

There were four armed men at my house. Charlie, Lydia’s guard, was by the door shot in both legs but alive. The other two guards are dead. I jumped one of the men, made him tell me who sent him. I knocked him out and moved on, taking out a second assassin before the cops subdued the other two. The first one, the one I knocked out, confirmed it was Rativan’s organization, that they had orders to get my daughter and kill her, to kill anyone who got in their way. That I was to be unharmed so I was coherent when they gave me Lydia’s body. That’s what Rativan wanted. For my daughter to die, for me to be handed her lifeless body in her Disney Princess nightgown.

I’ve vomited twice just thinking about that. I used the bucket that the city’s finest so graciously provided in my cell. My daughter is alive and safe. That’s all that matters. The henchmen will talk, will lead us to the remainder of Rativan’s network so the syndicate can be dismantled. So the threat will be removed. Murder for hire of a kid is not usually well received in the justice system so I don’t expect these men to give us more trouble. I’d like to be out of this cage and see my kid, though.

When they come get me, I’m ready to let my attorney have it. It’s been hours. But Davis Hammond isn’t waiting for me. Reva and Lydia are.

“Don’t yell at me for bringing her down here. I had to bail you out. There goes our entertainment budget for the month,” she teases.

I’m so happy to see her. I take her in my arms right there in the stupidest, least romantic place ever, and I kiss her. Lydia laughs. The fact that my child can still laugh or be happy after last night makes me speechless with gratitude. I could have lost her, could have lost them both.

We go home. I have a shower and find that they’ve ordered pizza for lunch. We don’t say much at the table, but it’s obvious we’re all happy to be alive and together. Mrs. Whitman is bustling around and muttering and baking things. We settle in on the couch to watch Trolls, but all three of us fall asleep. When I wake up, I find a note from Reva that they’ve gone shopping.

I check my email, follow up with my lawyer, and when they get home, I see bags of craft kits.

“We had to get the soap making set,” Reva laughs, “Because you promised.”

“That was for when you’d be under restrictions because of the threat. The threat is basically resolved. You can take her outside to skin her knees again,” I say.

“Looks like we’re all making soap tonight.”

“I’m making purple!” Lydia declares, ripping open the box.

We spend the rest of the day making colorful soaps that my daughter refuses to let anyone use to wash their hands because it would mess up her creation. I promise to keep my green and orange bar of glycerin soap on the counter and never use it. I hear Reva laugh and Lydia join it. It’s the best sound there is. I feel released, like the cloud above us has dispersed. When Lydia’s asleep, I take Reva’s hand.

“Come to bed. I think I promised you I’d go all night. We were interrupted.”

“You should make that up to me,” she says.

I take her to my bed. Before we begin, I gather her in my arms and hold her. I could have lost everything, is what I’m thinking.

“I’m not letting you go,” I say, “You mesmerize me.”

“You better not let me go,” she says, kissing me.

Reva rolls over onto her back and stretches, “This bed is huge,” she says. Her hand goes under my pillow.

“What is this?”

“Uh,” I stammer uselessly.

“Are these mine?” she holds up the lace panties.

“They got mixed up with my laundry,” I say.

“These have been missing for weeks. Have you had them all this time?”

“Yes.”

“What for? Are you obsessed with me?” she’s laughing so hard her eyes are streaming.

“I’m a stalker. I kept them,” I say with a shrug.

“And under your pillow too. Were you fantasizing about me?” she teases.

“Every day,” I tell her honestly.

I crawl toward her on the bed, grab her in my arms and kiss her almost savagely. She throws her arms around my neck in gleeful surrender. I slide my tongue in her mouth as she pulls off her clothes. Her skin is hot and smooth. She helps me get my clothes off. We’re naked together in my bed, skin on skin. I hold her for a minute, just memorizing every curve of her pressed against me. She kisses me, complains that I’m crushing her ribs. I lever off her so I can look at her, worship that body. The body I dreamed of for ages. The body that shielded my daughter from gunmen and the body she gave me on the couch weeks ago when she laid beneath me quivering with pleasure. I feel gratitude course through me as I lean in to kiss her collarbone.

Reva’s hands are in my hair, and my hands are all over her. There’s not an inch of her I won’t kiss before this night is through. I kiss her palms, her fingers, her wrists. My mouth slides down the valley between her breasts, my hands stroking and plucking at her nipples as she writhes in pleasure. She winds her long legs around me, capturing me. I love the way she runs her hands along my back and through my hair. I can tell by her movements, her sounds that she loves what I’m doing to her. She’s vocal, active, participating in every second of our tryst. I set her in my lap so she can have a turn. She kisses my neck, my ears, my chin. She’s having fun. Reva kisses my face, making her way to my mouth last. When she finally parts my lips with hers, I’m ready to explode. Her tongue in my mouth is so sweet, so perfect. The way she touches me arouses me more than I ever thought possible. As she’s exploring my shoulders and chest, she raises up. I don’t expect it. I thought we were taking it slow. But she reaches for my throbbing cock and puts me inside her. All at once she slides down the length of me, tight and wet, and I groan out loud. She takes the lead, moving on her knees and pumping up and down on me. I have her breasts in my face to touch and lick. Before long, I’m coming inside her, right where I want to be. I flip her on her back and finger her until she shatters in a screaming climax on my bed, spread out naked and satisfied before me. I suck her nipple as she shivers with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She launches herself into my arms and hugs me.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You’re welcome,” I answer, although it seems strange for her to thank me.

“You finally let me in. Let me reach you. I waited so long for you to look at me like this, like I’m not your enemy.”

“You were never my enemy,” I say, kissing her, “And you’re not going anywhere. You’re moving in.”

“I already live here, Ridge,” she informs me.

“No, I mean in here. Into this bedroom. You’re too far away otherwise.”

“What will we tell Lydia?”

“That her daddy has a girlfriend. That you’ll still take care of her after school unless you decide to take a job at the Academy.”

“How did you know about that? That they offered me an interview?” she demands.

“I work in security, Reva. Just assume I know things,” I tell her smugly.

“So I can’t keep any secrets from you?”

“No. None,” I say.

“Fine, then come here. There’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but I’ve kept it secret,” she says. Then she whispers to me about her fantasy.

In minutes, we’re acting out one of Reva’s fantasies. A fantasy she had about me. When we’re sweaty and spent, I kiss her forehead and think I’m the luckiest man alive.