I haven't slept this well in years. That's the first thought that pops into my mind once the fuzziness of sleep finally begins to clear. It's the incessant vibrating of my phone that woke me, and Joy is still sleeping peacefully beside me, her dark hair flowing across the pillow in the most interesting set of swirls and lines I've ever seen. I could just sit here and watch her sleep for hours. And that's exactly what I plan to do. I won't even get up to turn off my phone, so I don't wake her.

But the vibrating takes care of that. She rolls over onto her side, staring up at me with eyes still full of dreams. I could look into her eyes for hours too. And I feel like some love-struck teenager thinking it, but damn, just the idea feels good.

"Isn't your phone ringing?" she asks, her lips moving the most mesmerizing thing I've seen in a long time. Maybe ever.

"It is," I say and wrap my arms around her soft, pliant body. She moves closer, no, melts into me. My cock is ready for action. But I want to draw out this tantalizing anticipation. I didn't think I could enjoy just being with a woman, simply touching her, holding her, watching her, kissing her, without needing to tie her down too, or spank and control her. But lying here with Joy in my arms, her hot breath caressing my chest, and her soft, luscious curves molding themselves to me, I think I can. In fact, I know it. The need to control her is still there, but it's not dominant, not urgent, just one desire in a long line of things I wish to do with her.

I kiss the top of her head, breathing in deeply, the faint flowery smell of her hair mixing with her primal essence, which is rich and earthy yet clean as an early spring morning.

My phone starts vibrating again, sounds like someone's drilling right where I'm trying to enjoy my lazy morning.

"I should probably get that," I say and release her. But I take the time to kiss her forehead before getting up. "I'll hurry back."

"Please do," she says and smiles, her eyes just slits.

I find the phone in the pocket of my pants, which I discarded by the bedroom door last night. There are 20 missed calls, all but one from my lawyer. The other is from my secretary.

"What is it, Roger?" I ask as I call the lawyer back, letting all my annoyance into my tone. One call is enough, I don't pay him so he can blow up my phone with missed calls like some jilted teenage girlfriend. A man his age and in his profession should understand that implicitly.

"I apologize for calling as many times as I did, Eric," he says, clearing his throat. "But there's been a development in the case. The police have issued a warrant to collect your DNA. There's no way around it. You should go down there today and give them what they want. I'll come with you."

That’s lots of talking for a simple development. Lots of missed calls too.

"What did they find?" I was nowhere near Julie when she died. But what if they find a way to put me there regardless?

"I'm not quite sure. From the motion they filed with the judge it appears they found some blood evidence that they think could only have come from the killer," the lawyer explains, breathing heavily since he's not pausing for breath. "Your alibi is airtight, and I attempted to get the motion reversed on that account, but the judge denied it. I don't like this one bit though, and will continue to fight it. But for now, it will look better if you cooperate."

"Why don't you like it?" Something about all this has him very nervous, yet he's skirting the real issue.

"Because too much emphasis is placed on DNA in cases like this. There are other ways your DNA could've ended up on her body, yet if that's where they find it, it's almost a guaranteed conviction these days."

Shit. I was so certain all those wild accusations Terry was spewing about me would blow over, I never even stopped to consider they might not. What if a hair of mine fell in all that blood while I was fighting with Terry? Is that grounds to convict me? I don't need this bad press, not when I'm so close to making the deal of my career. And I certainly won't spend the rest of my life in jail, away from Joy.

Maybe I should tell Roger about Terry's behavior last night. But no. Terry's got issues, that's nothing new. Despite all the bad blood between us, he's still my brother. And family sticks together. Besides, if I told him now, it would just come across as childish and defensive.

"Alright, I'll meet you at the police station in two hours."

And Joy's coming with me. As much as I want to protect her from all this, I won't keep her in the dark any longer. Secrets and half-truths have no place in the type of relationship I want to build with her.