Fragments Of You by Garnet Christie

Author:Garnet Christie [Christie, Garnet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CG Press
Published: 2021-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Nora

I stir in bed. Warm euphoria and Bentley’s scent encase me while the sheets tangle around my ankles.

I’m deliciously sore in all the right places, and I’m dying for the tenderness to grow after another repeat. Last night was mind-melting incredible after waiting for so long, and Bentley was more than I could have ever imagined. He was so attentive in ensuring I was satisfied, so generous with meeting my requests, fixated on ensuring my pleasure before reaching his own. He was so, so perfect—in every way. Good things do take time.

My head and heart are still on cloud nine at the moment, and I feel weightless in the mattress… his mattress.

His.

A tired smile creeps over my face. I bury my nose in the pillow and sigh. When I think of having Bentley inside me again, my clit throbs. I need him now. I turn over, desperate to see him shirtless in bed while sun rays peek through the curtains.

Nothing.

He’s not here, and I can’t help but notice that his side of the bed looks undisturbed. It strikes my heart like a bad omen. “Bentley?” His name is a whisper. I scan the room and climb out of bed.

My feet hit the wooden floor, and I tiptoe over to the bathroom and knock twice. “Bentley?” There’s nothing but darkness spilling out from the crack under the door, but I still obey the compulsion to push it open.

It’s empty.

I rest my fingers around the handle and gaze around the room. My head tilts when my line of sight falls on the bedroom door. He must be making breakfast. He’s wronged me so many times, but he wouldn’t do this. I know he’s still here. He promised me a repeat of last night, so yeah, he’s here.

Traveling across the room, I smirk while opening the door, naked—his words after stripping me of my clothes last night replay.

“Fuck babe. You’re gorgeous.”

I’m anticipating his mouth hanging open at the sight of me, right before he has his way with me all over again—maybe even on the countertop. I giggle. I can’t wait to see the look on his face––

When I step out into the hall, my heart plummets to my feet. It feels like a wasteland, and there are no signs of food. No smells of coffee, eggs, or toast. It’s all silence. Oh no.

My fingers clench into my palms. “Bentley?” I scan down the hall, eyes bouncing off the walls like I’m trying to conjure him out of thin air. The soles of my feet pad against the hardwood with my timid approach. I reach the end of the hall and poke my head into the living room. “Bentley?”

Nothing. Unease begins to simmer low in my gut. I force a deep breath. No. He’s here. Probably in the kitchen, he just didn’t hear me.

I tiptoe. “Bentl––”

The kitchen is dark, no lights, not even a smidgen of life, and now I sense it in the whole house. There’s a deadness residing here—one so thick and heavy it’s permeating the walls.

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