“Got it.” Oz hung up and looked at Kit. “It was Router,” he mumbled.
Kit gave him a lazy smile. “I heard.”
“Look. About what just happened…”
Kit held up his hands. “All forgotten. But maybe you should mate her before she meets someone who actually is interested in getting to know her.”
Oz knew he was telling the truth. He would tell her soon. When the time was right. Maybe after all of this was over and she had her sister back. “I’ll meet you near the tree line out front. It’ll be faster if we shift.”
When Ronnie finished her bath, she couldn’t bring herself to put her filthy clothes back on. She wrapped herself in the top sheet and tied it toga style. She pulled the clean, empty bag out of the small trash can and threw her dirty clothes into it.
Bold as brass, in her stylish pale blue sheet and floral comforter cloak, she walked to the office. The older woman with a blue coiffure behind the desk reached for the neckline with wide eyes.
“Hello,” Ronnie said with a smile. “Could you help me?”
“Get in here, girl. You gon’ catch your death from cold.” The light blue-haired lady waved her in.
“I messed up my clothes pretty bad and I was wondering if I could use your washing machine?”
“Oh, yes, dear.” The woman pulled her half-moon eyeglasses down and they dangled around her neck by a metal chain. She held her hands out. “I can do it for you.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I can do it if you just point me…”
“I can’t have you catch your death running around out here in a sheet. Please.”
It bothered her to let this woman do her laundry. She nibbled her bottom lip as she considered her options.
“It’s not a bother, really. Besides, I’ve seen this episode of Midsomer Murders.” The woman held out her hand.
Ronnie knew she didn’t want to put the clothes on, and Oz was still talking to Kit. She handed the plastic bag over. “Thank you so much. I’m Ronnie, by the way.”
“Berniece. A pleasure,” she said as she took the bag of clothes.
Ronnie told her the room number and Berniece said she’d send them back once everything was dry. She hurried back to the room and sat on the bed. Her plan was to wait until Oz came back to let her know what their next move was going to be. She wasn’t sleepy at all, even though she hadn’t been to sleep since yesterday, before her shift twenty-four hours ago.
The pull of sleep was powerful. She’d fought it every time her eyelids closed; she’d forced them back open. But finally, she rested her eyes. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Besides, Oz would wake her when he came back in the room.
Her dreams were vivid and clear. They had found her sister. Golden’s hair was a frizzy, afro mess, but she looked good. They hugged, kissed, and cried. That scene sat on repeat for a few times. Then things changed. Golden wasn’t around, but he was.
Oz.
Her tall, quiet knight in black leather, riding a two-wheeled silver steed. She watched his full kissable lips; they weren’t moving, but she could hear his baritone voice. The words were unimportant; it was what he was doing to her that was important. Her body felt like the heater had kicked on and her clothes were holding her hostage. Sweat beaded down between her breasts and she couldn’t pull her clothes off fast enough.
Shirt and jeans. Gone.
Bra. Across the room somewhere.
Panties. Melted away.
She stood before Oz in all her naked glory. He didn’t say a word, just licked his lips like a cat eyeing a big bowl of cream. She wanted to be that. She wanted his lips and tongue on her. It was his eyes; they reminded her of one of the big leopards at the wildlife sanctuary every time he stared at her for long periods of time. She pretended not to notice, but he stirred something in her soul every time he looked at her.
“Oz.” His name came out a husky purr. “Touch me.”
Never-mind that her hands had already begun to caress her extended nipples, displaying them out like an offering. He didn’t touch her though. No, he walked around her, then blew a cool breeze against her hot skin.
From behind, he leaned in and nibbled her ear, then whispered, “You’re so beautiful like this.”
He plied light kisses down her neck, then bit at the junction between her neck and collar, just hard enough to make her squeal. Her other hand went lower. She had to assuage the need building between her legs.
His mouth and tongue were making her mindless. He moved in front of her and kissed as he went lower on her body. When he took her hardened nipple into his mouth and she cried out.
“Oz!” Ronnie woke up screaming his name. She looked around the room, but she was alone.
Aroused nipples, sweaty body, and the sheet was bunched up around her waist. It was more than just a dream, this man had her worked up in ways she had never been before. She was still horny. Still wanted him to stop this need in her. No man had ever made her want him this badly without laying a finger on her.
Across the room on the small table was a paper bag and a drink. That wasn’t there before. Her face fell into her hands. He’d been in the room at some point. How much did he see? There was nothing she could do about it now. If he didn’t talk about it, she was certainly not going to bring it up.
The sheet was a rumpled mess. She shook it out and tied it back into a makeshift toga. Instead of turning on the light, she grabbed a couple of fries from the
