Chapter 119: Borrowed Shirt

Dorian’s mouth brushed hers. "Come on, babe. Come with me."

Naomi started meeting his thrusts properly then. She was exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally.

Tonight had pulled too much out of her. She had admitted things she had never planned to say. She was lying beneath the one man who confused every belief she had built her life around, wanting to give him one more thing.

She wanted to please him. She wanted to come for him.

Just him.

Naomi lifted her legs higher. The angle changed immediately. Her clit brushed against him with every movement, and Dorian’s rhythm faltered.

"Fuck! Naomi..."

The warning in his voice came too late.

Naomi’s breathing broke apart. The pressure built so quickly that she almost laughed from disbelief. "I’m coming..." she said, excitement slipping into her voice because she was ridiculously proud of herself for managing it again.

Dorian’s face tightened. "Too late." He thrust once more, then went completely still.

A rough sound tore out of him as he spilled inside her again. Dorian stayed over her, breathing hard.

There it was again.

No condom.

No pulling out.

No sense.

Both of them, complete idiots.

Dorian’s eyes closed briefly. She let out a weak laugh.

"This is becoming a habit. That is not a good thing."

"You think?" He opened his eyes and looked at her before groaning then dropping his forehead against hers.

"This was not even supposed to happen tonight."

"How the fuck did I end up inside you."

Naomi smiled. "That part feels very on-brand for us."

They really had to do something about their senselessness.

"I’ll just bring dinner here. Do you have something I can wear so I don’t roam through the house naked?" Naomi asked.

Dorian looked toward the closet. "Check in there. I need to arrange a few things with Adrian, then I’ll come help you."

"No, it’s okay." Naomi shifted off the bed and headed toward the closet. "It’s just a tray."

Dorian waited, until she was dressed and actually gone. Then every trace of warmth vanished from his face. "Fucking son of a bitch."

The transformation was immediate. He was Dorian Heathcliffe again but this version was colder. He knew it. He could smell it on the man. He just couldn’t be sure. The man had put his hands on his wife.

Dorian got off the bed, grabbed a pair of shorts from the closet and pulled them on. Then he crossed to the dresser and picked up his phone.

Adrian answered almost immediately. "Boss!"

"I won’t be coming in tomorrow. Take the day off."

"Shall I prepare Felix?"

"Yes...Pull out the burner. I’ll send details in a bit." Dorian ended the call.

Adrian had been with him since before Heathcliffe & Associates. The man understood codes Dorian never had to explain. He knew when something was legal work. He knew when it was investigative work.

And he knew when Dorian needed something fixed that the legal system could not fix for him. That was the code, take the day off.

Dorian crossed the room and opened the safe. He punched in the code, reached inside and pulled out the burner phone. His jaw remained tight as he typed. He did not need to think about what he was doing.

Thinking would only make him angrier. She had become so conditioned that she had learned to talk about abuse so casually.

Not recently.

As though that was supposed to make him feel better.

Dorian sent the instructions, replaced the burner, shut the safe and reset everything exactly as it had been.

The bedroom door opened. Naomi walked back in carrying a tray, still with his Tshirt on. It hung loose on her frame, nearly swallowing her whole.

And just like that, his face softened. The anger didn’t disappear. It simply moved somewhere else. Somewhere Naomi could not see it.

His eyes swept over her. "You look beautiful in that."

Naomi looked down at the T-shirt she was wearing. "Oh, shush, you." She rolled her eyes and placed the tray on the bed.

*****

As usual, Richard Whitmore came home after midnight. Diana had learned a long time ago not to question his movements.

She didn’t ask where he had been. She didn’t ask why he was late. Silence was easier. Tonight, however, she stayed awake.

The children had gone to bed hours ago. She would normally have followed, especially on a school night, but she had news for Richard.

News he probably wouldn’t like. Diana didn’t quite understand why he wouldn’t like it, though. If anything, it should have been good news.

It might take some of the burden off him. Off Naomi too. Still, she had been married to Richard long enough to know that some things were better coming from her before he heard them somewhere else.

So she waited. When she finally heard the door open downstairs, she got up.

Richard walked in looking tired and slightly unsteady. Diana approached him the way she always did, accepting his coat without comment.

The smell of alcohol and perfume reached her immediately. She said nothing. There was no point.

"Kids asleep?" Richard asked, already loosening his tie.

"Yes. It’s a school night."

He grunted and walked farther into the house. "Why are you still up?"

"I was waiting for you."

That made him glance at her. Diana folded his coat neatly over one arm.

"I have news."

"Go on then."

"Marianne called."

Richard stopped. "What the hell? How did she get your phone number?"

Diana frowned at his reaction. "You asked me to write to her and find out if anything happened."

"Yes, write."

"So I gave her my phone number in case she needed to reach out."

He dragged a hand down his face. "Fine. What did she want?"

Diana relaxed slightly. "She says she has a chance of getting out. But she said I shouldn’t tell Naomi yet."

"Getting out how?"

"I don’t know."

"Is she up for parole or something?"

"I didn’t ask questions."

"You didn’t ask?"

Diana gave him a confused look. "She sounded hopeful, Richard. I didn’t want to interrogate her."