She lifted for half a second before she dropped, taking me all the way. Fucking fuck. She was so fucking wet, I was ready to burst right there. She’d been dripping all over me the last twenty minutes with her teasing, but holy shit I’d never get tired of the way she felt when she finally wrapped around me.
“Fuck,” I hissed, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip to keep myself in check.
“You feel so fucking good,” she moaned.
“If you keep talking to me like that, I’m not going to last.”
Her eyes landed on mine, smirk on her face. “Good.”
Three hours later,I decided to tear myself away from my wife long enough to get us pizza and pick up drinks from the liquor store. She was passed out by the time I walked in the door. I stuck the drinks in the fridge and turned the oven on to keep the pizza warm while I woke her up.
She groaned softly. “Tired. Go away.”
“You need to eat, my love. Plus, you wanted to go up to the cottage for a couple days. I promise you can go straight to bed the second we get there.”
“Ten more minutes.” She rolled over, clinging to the blanket. “Please,” she mumbled.
Goddamn it, I’d never be able to say no to this woman.
“Okay, baby.”
I gave her twenty before I strong armed her out of bed—picked her up, threw her over my shoulder, and sat her at the table. She tore a strip off me for five minutes before she let me bring the food and a couple of drinks. God, she was so fucking hot when she was yelling at me. The way her cheeks flushed pink, how her eyes were glued to me, burning with the same fire she usually had when she wanted to play. She must have had me conditioned or something, I kept having to tell my dick to chill out. This wasn’t time to play. He didn’t seem to care.
After she got some pizza in her system, she did a complete one-eighty—all smiles and laughs. She even did her adorable little happy pizza dance as she scarfed down pieces one and two. I watched her, grinning like an idiot as everything sunk in.
I’d get to listen to her day every night over dinner. I’d get to make her smile and laugh every day. I’d get to watch her happy food dances and her victory dances all the time.
But better than all that, I got to call this beautiful, sexy, confident, caring woman my wife for the rest of my life.
And one day—maybe a few years from now when the list was done and we were free to live for ourselves—I’d get to watch as our family grew and I’d be lucky enough to call her the mother of my children.
“Why are you grinning like an idiot? I’m trying to tell you my new reason for hating Jessica. Are you even listening to me?”
“Every word, my love. But I can’t help smiling when I get to spend the rest of my life like this—here with you.”
Her cheeks flushed, eyes darting around the room looking anywhere but at me as her own smile grew on her face.
“Well, stop it. I’m trying to tell you a story and you’re being distracting.”
“Sorry.” I turned my expression more serious. “Won’t happen again. Please, continue.”
She chuckled and shook her head, but she did continue.
38
THE VILLAIN
Things werequiet for a couple of months. I kept working with Whisps; he started to help with the list and the last two labs. We managed to take out Plowers with his freaky mind tricks. The judge threw himself off the roof of the courthouse. His brain spattering all over the sidewalk had made major news headlines.
We went on to take out five more from the list by the beginning of March and the remaining labs. I was really careful not to leave a shred of icy evidence behind at any of the scenes,but it was hard to hide Whisper’s involvement. Eva confronted him after news of the labs went public last week—leaked to a local news station after we took out the last one.
He managed to convince her that Violet told him about it and Weave was helping him get information on the labs’ whereabouts—the latter part was completely true, without my usual contacts, he’d turned to Weave for help. She looked devastated when both Violet and Weave backed up his story and it broke my heart. I wanted to tell her the whole truth, but I just couldn’t. I had too much to lose now.
Mainly the woman happily humming to herself while she puttered around packing, unpacking, and repacking her suitcase. Violet always booked off a week at the beginning of March around her mom’s death to get away. This year, she asked for two weeks and the hospitals said no problem. After all the shit she got from the police and the work she’d been doing with the villains, they insisted she more than deserved it and gave her three.
For three whole weeks, I’d have my wife all to myself.
I wanted to whisk her away to Bora Bora for a real honeymoon but she insisted she needed to stay close, just in case. I tried to convince her that everything would be fine, even enlisted Whisp’s help but she absolutely wouldn’t budge, so we were going to the cottage—under the condition that once the list was done she’d let me take her to Bora Bora.
