Rania Algafari never asked to be different, and when she escaped the war in Syria and moved to the UK, her only goal was to live her life in peace. Get up, go to work, avoid talking to the dead - that sort of thing.
But not everyone dies quietly, an...
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Yes, I could definitely get used to this.
Will said I was the boss, and could I help it if my subconscious decided that the place it wanted to be was curled up against his side with one arm across his stomach? And possibly one leg might have draped over his thigh too. Four nights, and my body knew its place. Was Will awake? I risked a glance upwards and saw him looking back at me. Busted.
Not that I really cared, especially when he pulled me all the way on top of him and gave me a good-morning kiss. A little tongue, a lot of heat, and my body responded in ways I never thought it would. Will chuckled, running his thumbs over traitorous nipples covered only by the thin cotton of the pyjamas I'd bought in town yesterday.
We hadn't got naked with each other yet. Will pushed me every day, but only a gentle nudge each time. On Boxing Day, it was his hand on my bottom. Yesterday, he'd held my hand while we shopped. And today? He swirled his thumbs around the pebbled tips, and a mewl escaped from my lips.
"We need to work on that, Nia. I want you moaning my name."
"Did anyone ever tell you what a big ego you've got, Will Lawson?"
"Nope. But they might have mentioned my big—"
I kissed him before he got the word out. I knew exactly what he'd been going to say, and he wasn't lying. I could feel it hard against my belly. But I wasn't ready for that yet. I knew it, and so did Will. He never pushed me further than I could take. And this time, it was him who broke the kiss.
"Much as I'd love to tease you all day, it's Monday morning and we've got work to do."
Yes, the case. Or cases, now, seeing as we also had the arson at the flat to look into. Will had promised he wouldn't let that drop.
For the last two days, we'd pushed the nightmare of real life away. On Boxing Day, we stayed in the house while RJ and Shannon went into town. Somehow, they managed to buy clothes, food for all of us, and a new cot-bed for Aisling without killing each other, although they were still bickering by the time they got home. And I was happy to see that. With Slick Dick, Shannon had acted meek, compliant, always eager to please. I half suspected Will was right and she did secretly like RJ, but at least she wasn't rolling over and playing the doormat this time. And RJ was still sleeping on the sofa.
Yesterday, it had been my and Will's turn to shop. We didn't buy a lot—neither of us had the money, and until Shannon and I found a new place to live, we didn't need much beyond the basics. Clothes, shoes, and toiletries. I had a secret too. I wanted the insurance company to drag their heels over the flat, because I really, really liked sleeping in Will's bed at night.
Except now I had to get out of it because work was calling.
"What's the plan?"
"I need to speak to the police and find out what's going on with your flat. At least Chris Turner isn't the lead on that case, so I might not feel the urge to punch someone every five minutes."
