MasukSYLVESTERI held her against my chest and kissed her.Then before I made a decision about it, I was backing her against the kitchen wall. My body pressed against her, my hands framing her face. Her back was against the plaster, her mouth open and hungry under mine. She tasted like the brandy she'd barely touched. She made a sound when I pressed into her, small and broken, and it went straight through me.I told myself to slow down. I'd waited weeks for this. I wasn't going to rush it now that I finally had her.I took her from the wall, walking her backward, out of the kitchen, into the living room, toward the couch without breaking the kiss. The backs of her knees hit the cushion and she sat, and I came down over her, one knee on the couch, my hand still in her hair. She pulled me closer by the shirt. Her breathing was already ragged.I made myself stop.I pulled back just enough to see her face. Her lips were swollen. Her eyes were dark and half open. I kept my hands on either side
RAINAIt had been three long days since Sylvester had me pinned against his wall with his fingers buried inside me.Three days, and I hadn't stopped feeling it.So when I found myself in the car that evening, driving the back roads toward his place with a folder on the passenger seat, I already knew I was lying to myself about why.The folder was the lie. Maria had pulled a few new names off the staff roster that week, and I'd tucked them into my bag before leaving, as if paper could make this respectable. As if it gave me the right to come to his house even though I had no business being here. He hadn't asked me to come. He hadn't texted or called. I just showed up.I parked two blocks away out of habit, walked to his door, knocked.He opened it in a grey henley with the sleeves pushed up. He looked at me a beat too long. He knew I hadn't been summoned. He knew exactly why I was standing on his doorstep at nine at night.He stepped back to let me in.The apartment smelled the way it
CASTORThe numbers were down again.Felix had them pulled up on his tablet, sliding it across my desk like he was doing me a favor by showing me. Three points. We'd dropped three points in ten days. Every line on the graph pointed the wrong way."It's the debate coverage," Felix said. "Brian came off well. People liked him. The independents are moving." "People liked him." I repeated, leaning back in my chair. "People like a man with no money, no family name, and a dead sister he trots out at every fundraiser. That's who people like now?"Felix shrugged."We should be digging up dirt on him. Trying everything we can to ruin the public's opinion of him.""There's nothing on him," Felix leaned forward. "And that's the problem. The man grew up in the worst part of this city. No father worth naming, a mother working two jobs. He clawed his way through law school on scholarships and made himself into one of the sharpest attorneys in the state before he ever ran for anything. People love
RAINAI made it home a little after ten.The drive back was a blur. Like a haze had settled over me.I remember holding unto the wheel like a lifeline. I remember my thighs still slick under my skirt, my body still thrumming from what he'd done to me against that wall. I could still remember pressing my legs together at a red light and feeling the ache flare all over again.Now I was home. How I got home, I couldn't tell.I let myself in through the kitchen door. The house was dark. I went down the corridor to the south wing on legs that still weren't steady, closed my door, locked it.I undressed in the dark. My skin was too warm. My underwear was soaked through, totally ruined. I slipped out of it and pulled on my nightgown, got into bed, and lay there with my heart still going too fast, replaying the feel of his fingers inside me, the sound he'd made in his throat when he felt how wet I was.I told myself to sleep.I was almost there when the burner phone buzzed.I knew it was him
RAINAThree days later and Sylvester's words still sat in my head like a stubborn headache.I hadn't deleted those texts, couldn't bring myself to stop staring at them.Like a dam being let loose, he'd said all the things he wanted to do to me.And what was worse? I couldn't tell him to stop.He'd thrown the decision into my lap and walked away.~Tell me you don't want me.~I hadn't answered.Because I couldn't.The realization sat heavy in my chest all day, every day.By Friday night, it was unbearable.We were supposed to meet at the diner at eight.Eight o'clock came and went.I checked the diner door for the fifth time.Nothing.The waitress topped off my coffee and gave me a sympathetic smile."Still waiting on someone?""Apparently."I looked down at my phone. No messages. No missed calls.Sylvester was late.Not five-minutes late. Not traffic late.An hour late.That wasn't like him.I called again.Straight to voicemail.A knot formed in my stomach.This case was dangerous. Th
RAINAA week rolled by after touching myself to the thought of Syvelster Brian.We met twice for case work. Once at the bookstore cafe. Once at a diner on the north side that he'd picked because nobody from Castor's circle would be caught dead eating there.Both times he behaved.Both times he was professional. Focused. He went through the intel. Asked the right questions. Took notes. Didn't flirt. Didn't touch me. Didn't mention the texts or any other of the incidents that had happened between us in the previous weeks.Both times the air between us was so charged I could barely sit still.It was in the pauses. The half second where his pen would stop moving and his eyes would lift from the notes and find me and something would pass between us that neither of us acknowledged. Then he'd look back down and keep writing and I'd take a breath and pretend my heart wasn't doing something reckless.By Friday, I'd almost convinced myself that we'd found a rhythm. A steady ground where two adu
RAINAThe Next Day.After Syvelster's daring texts last night, I worked up the courage to tell him I wasn't coming to his apartment anymore.He'd suggested the cafe without missing a beat. A small place at the back of an old bookstore on the east side. The kind of place where people came to read, n
SYLVESTERThe campaign speech was due tomorrow.I'd been sitting at my desk for four hours. The laptop was open. The cursor was blinking on a half-finished paragraph about infrastructure reform that I'd written and deleted three times.Infrastructure reform.I couldn't even say the words in my head
RAINALater that night after I got back from Syvelster's house.I sat in bed trying to read myself to sleep.An hour had passed with the book open on my chest. The same page. The same paragraph. I'd read it five times and couldn't tell you a single word on it.My mind was still in his living room.
SYLVESTERBut right now, with her eyes back to my mouth, and her scent filling my lungs...I wasn't thinking about how brave she was.The way her body had pressed against mine was still burned into my memory from the factory.This close to her I couldn't think straight.I was thinking about how her







