Under Darkened Skies by Sydney Gibson

Author:Sydney Gibson [Gibson, Sydney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sydney Gibson
Published: 2020-06-30T20:00:00+00:00

*****

I laid on the bed as Sasha dug through my closet. My mother had kept everything I abandoned from my teen years and the occasional laundry days from college. Sasha stepped out wearing one of my old Detroit Red Wings sweatshirt. It was so big it hung down to her knees. She grinned, holding out her arms as the sleeves covered her hands. “Were you a giant kid? This thing is huge. And the Red Wings? You were raised in Chicago, shame on you.”

I groaned. “I was born in Detroit. The Red Wings were spoon fed to me from the moment I was born. And I was in a weird phase when I bought that. I was trying to hide my gangly, skinny, awkward body and rebel against being the adopted kid.”

Sasha crawled onto to the bed, straddling me. She leaned forward, kissing me. “Why would you ever want to hide this?” Her hands slid under my sweatshirt, drawing goose bumps as her hands ran over my skin. “Oh, and I’m keeping this sweatshirt.” I felt her push her hips down, making me moan as my hands went to her thighs, holding her still.

“The whole house is awake, Sasha.”

She smirked as she wiggled against my stomach. “I know, but the shower looks soundproof.” I smiled at this bold version of Sasha. It was apparent our talk in the car and last night had broken down some of the walls between us. The desire and need radiating between Sasha and I was at an all-time high. My resolve would falter in a matter of minutes if she kept moving her hips like that.

Sasha rolled off me and stood up. She peeled off my giant sweatshirt, quickly followed by the old t-shirt she’d worn to bed. She paused before walking into the bathroom turning on the water to let it get hot. I went to roll out of bed and follow her, when her phone rang from her inside bag. Sasha hollered over the running water. “Can you please ignore that, especially if it’s the office?”

I found her phone in the bottom of her bag, about to hit ignore when the number flashing across the screen caught me by surprise. It was the number for the federal penitentiary down in West Virginia. My stupid photographic memory had memorized all the useless phone numbers I used on the job. County jails, state prisons, federal prisons, they were all stuck in my brain from the occasions I had to interview prisoners or drop off a new inmate. Never mind the fact Sasha had a heated conversation with an inmate at a federal prison yesterday.

I stared at it, debating.

I hit accept and said hello.

My fears and concern from the last time Sasha was on the phone before we left the house was too much to forget. The operator on the phone spoke in a bored tone. “Agent Natasha Clarke, will you accept a call from Alison Porter?” I whispered yes as the operator sighed. “Agent Clarke, I know this is the third time your mother has requested a phone call with you.

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