Chapter 11: Morning After Rules

I woke up in a borrowed body and a very good bed, and somebody had stuck a HAZARD label on the bedroom door.

It was orange and slightly crooked.

Under the word, in blue pen, he had added: Inspected. Passed. Do not remove.

"You used my stickers," I said.

"You left a roll in your dress pocket."

Quincy was sitting on the edge of the bed in his trousers, with a mug in each hand.

His hair stood up on one side.

He gave me the nearer mug.

It was good coffee, much better than Hattie's.

"I didn't sleep," he said.

"Neither did I."

"I read the whole file at four. The bank records. The dress. The funeral guest list."

"Anything in there I should explain?"

"No." He put his own mug on the nightstand. "I'd rather ask you."

He took mine out of my hand and set it down beside his.

"Come here."

"I'm not dressed."

"I know. It's my favorite part."

He pulled me across the sheet by the wrist until I was sitting in his lap, facing him, with the blanket pooled at my waist.

His mouth found my neck.

It was a lazy kiss, a morning one, and I felt how hard he already was through his trousers and ground down against him on purpose.

"Tilda."

"Take them off."

He did, and I took him in my hand and sank down onto him slowly.

His arms went around my back and his forehead rested against my chest.

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