In Her Heat - Ainsley's Story

In Her Heat - Chapter Forty Two (The End in the Beginning)

THIS IS IT.

***

Cade and I spent the entire night together, lying in each others’ arms. His heartbeat, strong, steady and sure and the rise of his chest lulled me into a well needed deep sleep. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone, but a note rested in the indent his head had made on his pillow.

Good morning, beautiful. Had to leave early – ceremony rituals. Even though I would break any rule for you, I know how much it means for you to get Harley. I can’t wait to see you tonight. I know you’re going to steal my breath – you always do. Forever  yours, Cade.

Could the man get any sexier? In a ridiculously cliché manner, I clutched the note to my chest as I rolled over onto his pillow. His scent filled my nose and reminded me of all the ways we’d been close the night before.

“He’s that good, huh?” Kat’s voice interrupted my memories.

“If only you knew,” I said with a grin. “So what exactly happened to you last night? We didn’t hear you come back...” I let the sentence hang.

“Because I didn’t.” The biggest smile spread across her lips and even though she turned to hide it from me, there was no missing that grin.

“Well don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary! Pun totally intended!”

She laughed out loud, her caramel skin glowing, her light brown hair falling down her back. She looked positively gorgeous. Sex was so good for your health.

Throughout the morning as we showered and dressed, I tried to get Kat to spill all the details, but all she gave me was, “His stamina is ridiculous.” When Quinn arrived at our door to begin our preparations with the other women, Kat was still grinning and sighing like a schoolgirl.

 “So what exactly is going to happen tonight?” Kat asked, her feet soaked in a basin of hot water. Quinn had smirked at our surprise to see running water in the caves but who wouldn't be surprised? The doors, walls and ceiling were all dirt based and there were roots growing around every piece of furniture. We’d spent the day sewing clothes – a hobby in which I didn’t improve over time – prepping and cooking food and braiding each other’s hair. Right now the women were taking turns cleaning every part of each others’ bodies except, of course, the private ones.

“It’s really just a party with some rituals at the beginning. Lilica will pour a liquid extracted from a combination of roots over you, you’ll immerse your hands in dirt and then rub lines across your forehead, cheeks and chin. Pretty simple.”

“Why do we have to smear dirt on ourselves?” I asked.

“It’s a sign that you bind your being with the elements of earth and respect them.”

“The dirt will come off, yeah?” Kat asked. “Dirt isn’t really my colour.”

“It only lasts a few hours, Kat,” snapped Quinn.