Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“Another victim?” he deadpanned.
I smacked his arm.
That only worked to break many small bones in my hand.
Or at least bruise them.
I swear he was like Wolverine, bones made from iron or whatever. I made a mental note to get a metal detector and run it over him while he was sleeping. Just in case.
He took my bruised or broken hand into his own, bringing it to his lips and softly kissing.
The pain disappeared.
“Your sons will be looking for their next victim once they untie themselves from their beds.”
He raised his brow in response.
“Well, you weren’t here,” I said to his nonverbal reply. “I needed to get creative if I wanted any private time with my husband.” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
“So you tied our children to their beds so you could fuck me?” he deduced.
“No,” I argued. “So you could fuck me.”
His eyes turned. “I approve,” he growled.
In an instant, I was on my back on the sofa, Zane’s tee somehow over top of my head.
He let out a feral hiss as the cold air hit my nipples. “No bra, Wildcat,” he growled, moving his head down to fasten his lips over my nipple.
“Zane,” I moaned.
Even after all these years, he was building me up to orgasm with just his fricking mouth on my nipple.
His beautiful assault moved to the other before he kissed his way up my neck.
I moved my hands beneath his tee, scratched at his skin with desperation as he kissed me. Despite the frenzied movements prior, despite the erotic danger in his eyes, he kissed me slow, tenderly.
And I knew why.
Because of what tomorrow was.
What I had been trying to avoid thinking about and had been somewhat successful at doing because the demons I’d tied to their beds took up most of my attention, making sure they didn’t burn anything else down.
But now, with Zane’s loving, reverent kiss, I couldn’t avoid it.
He stopped kissing me. Rested his forehead on mine. He saw it all. All the things I didn’t say. Even to myself. “I know, baby,” he whispered.
And that was all either of us spoke for the rest of the night.
Until our boys found us naked in the garage.
Then there were some words.
But nothing about what tomorrow meant.
Because we didn’t need to say anything at all.
I knew Zane would destroy heaven, come back from hell if needed.
I needed to trust him to get us through this. Trust the club I’d once been sure was too violent for me, for us. The club that was a part of us.
Lily
It was nearing two when I pulled my car into the drive.
The light went on immediately and the door opened, a shape filled our doorway.
A shape I knew well.
A shape of the man I called my husband, best friend. My everything.
And even though he was dealing with a baby, with everything that was happening tomorrow, he still waited up for me, still lit up the house for me, still walked over to open my car door like he did every single time I was on the night shift, which wasn’t often. My superiors knew I had only just come back from maternity leave and tried their best to be kind, but the life of a nurse wasn’t exactly kind.
Apart from being able to put my son to bed, not being able to have dinner with my husband, I loved my job. I felt like I was doing something. I also felt strong, confident in a way I hadn’t felt without Asher’s help in forever.
It hurt.
A lot.
Seeing people suffering from the same disease that took my mother from me. Watching families decay just like the person in the hospital bed. And I couldn’t offer help in these times.
Only comfort.
But then there were the other times. When the disease didn’t win the war. And I got to see people walk out of the hospital, with a little more death on their souls than before, but a lot more appreciation for life.
I didn’t feel like the Lily who couldn’t even breathe when she was presented with a stranger or unfamiliar situation when I was at the hospital. I was Lily, the nurse. That stayed calm in the most chaotic situations. It was odd, really. It was an environment that might’ve triggered a lot of people to have panic attacks, but it cured mine.
My door opened as I put the car into park.
Asher reached over to unfasten my seatbelt and kiss me. “Flower,” he murmured against my mouth.
I sank into my husband’s touch, still getting freaking butterflies after all this time.
He was the original cure.
“Hey,” I whispered against his mouth. “How’s the baby?”
He pulled me out of the car, closing the door behind me and locking it. “He’s perfect, of course.”
He tucked me into his side and walked us into the house.
Asher was always affectionate. Always touching me, claiming me, whenever I was close enough for that. But this was different.