Chapter 19: Afterglow Bonds

Six months later — July 4, 2026.

The rooftop of Rikki’s Tribeca loft had become their private paradise—a sanctuary suspended above the city’s endless pulse, where the world felt both impossibly distant and intimately close. The expansive teak deck was warm from the day’s sun, the wood smooth and slightly rough under bare feet, radiating stored heat that soaked into skin like a slow caress. String lights crisscrossed overhead in lazy, golden loops, their soft bulbs flickering gently in the warm breeze, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across bodies and faces—golden glows that licked along collarbones, traced the curve of shoulders, pooled in the hollow of throats. Potted jasmine vines climbed the railing, their night-blooming flowers releasing thick, heady waves of scent that wrapped around them like invisible silk—sweet, intoxicating, mingling with the smoky char of the grill, the faint salt of the Hudson drifting up on the breeze, and the deeper, personal notes of sweat and skin and lingering arousal that still clung from the morning’s slow, unhurried lovemaking.

Sophia stood at the railing, sundress fluttering softly against her thighs—thin crimson silk that clung to her curves like liquid heat, the fabric cool and slippery at first touch from the evening breeze but warming quickly against sun-kissed skin, hem brushing mid-thigh with every subtle shift, whispering against sensitive flesh. The silk was damp in places from earlier sweat, clinging transparently to the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, nipples peaked and visible beneath the thin layer when the breeze pressed it close. Her auburn hair was loose and wild, catching the golden hour light like living flame, strands brushing her bare shoulders and the tops of her breasts with every breath—tickling hypersensitive skin that prickled with gooseflesh, sending shivers racing down her spine to pool low and urgent. Shadow draped across her shoulders as a living stole—warm, silky fur pressing against her neck, his purring a low, constant vibration that thrummed through her collarbone, into her chest, syncing with her heartbeat.

Rikki came up behind her—barefoot on the warm deck wood that radiated heat up through soles, wearing loose linen pants that hung low on her hips, the fabric soft and slightly rough against skin, and a smooth white tank that clung damply to her athletic frame from the day’s lingering warmth. Her scars from the shadow wound had faded to silver lines across her ribs—visible when the tank shifted, skin still slightly raised and sensitive to touch. Her arms slid around Sophia’s waist—slow, deliberate—palms splaying across bare midriff where the dress rode up, fingers pressing just enough to feel the heat beneath, the subtle tremor of muscle, the rapid flutter of breath. The skin there was silk-smooth, flushed and warm, gooseflesh rising under Rikki’s cool palms from the contrast.