Especially the fool who had inserted himself into splitting them up again.
His one aim was to get the target off her back, to make it look like they were no longer together. Anyone who’d seen Splice in the last months would say he’d fallen deeply in love, so that a normal breakup wouldn’t cut it. Splice in love wouldn’t have left his old lady.
He had to go the hard way.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped again, inhaling the scent of her hair.
Lisa had gone slack against him, not holding back, not lassoing her arms around his waist like she usually would. He pulled back a few inches and wiped the tears with his thumbs. He then roamed small kisses over the same tear trails, loving her with his mouth.
“I’ve missed you so much; I was dying inside.”
Her lower lip trembled, “and you werelying.”
“Only for a little while, baby. Let me explain.” He pleaded.
More kisses ran over her face.
Desperate, pleading kisses, begging her to give him a chance to hear what he had to say.
He’d slit his own throat before he ever broke up with her.
He knew he was punching above his weight, earning a woman like Lisa, who the fuck in their right mind would ditch her?
But in a life-or-death situation, he sure as hell would lie to protect her. He would use his own body to shield her from danger.
Once he realized what Vince was doing—still with no reason—Splice knew his uncle could go to extremes to get Lisa out of his life. It had been a snap decision to put his plan into action. He’d chosen Lisa over Vinceinstantly. No thought about it. He’d choose her every single time.
“Please, sweetheart.” He begged, and he went for her trembling lower lip, sucking it between his teeth.
That one taste of Lisa detonated a bomb in Splice’s head. It set his wiring on fire, destroyed his rational thought, leaving trails of ash in its wake, because all his thoughts were directed to one thing.
Tasting her again.
Tasting the woman he hadn’t tasted in two long days.
Splice needed to be drunk on his woman.
“Lisa. My sweetheart.” He groaned, applying pressure to her unmoving lips.
She didn’t react at first. Her hands were down by her sides; it was Splice doing all the movement, but he was happy to, nibbling her top lip, then his favorite bottom lip.
“Forgive me.” He pleaded. Kissing. Kissing. Kissing. Coaxing her to open up to him. He roamed his hands down her back, cupping her ass, and desire burst open between them. He felt it the moment Lisa caught fire because her inhale was the sweetest sound on earth.
Now, he was not a book-smart man, but he could take cues like the next moron, and he went for her mouth like he wanted to. Like he’d thought about it non-stop ever since he’d parked his ass in the clubhouse—in this very room—and gone over his plan. He thought about kissing Lisa, wrapping his arms around her, and letting her know everything would be alright.
When he found her tongue, he twined his around it and sucked hard until Lisa moaned, going up on her toes; she wrapped her arms around him, and Splice’s heart rang a fucking bell in his chest.
This was what contentment felt like.
Happy came wrapped in a screaming, perfect package that was all Lisa.
He couldn’t breathe without this woman close by. He felt as though he had been emptied of his soul by being away from her.
But it wasn’t about him, was it? It never was.
Lisa was his reason.
His starter pistol.
