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Inside, he’s a beautifully sensitive soul who cares about me more than he will ever say out loud. I pray that I haven’t already ruined that soul. A soul that has to survive long enough for our kids to grow up with a father after I’m long gone from their lives.
I hear a keycard enter the door, and my feet stop. I gulp in huge amounts of oxygen as I wait for Langston to open the door.
The door opens like he’s pushing the weight of the world away. He steps through and slams all outside forces out until it’s just the two of us remaining. Everything else vanishes.
Langston enters alone, which doesn’t surprise me. I want to ask what he did with Maxwell. Did he kill him?
It doesn’t matter. I trust him.
Why?
I shouldn’t.
He’s a monster.
A killer.
But he’s my killer. And now he’s my husband. There are plenty of vows we couldn’t speak to each other because we wouldn’t keep them. But being loyal and trusting to my husband is something I plan on doing for as long as we are married.
My gut told me to keep Maxwell alive, but tonight, I’m trusting Langston’s gut. If it told him to kill Maxwell, then so be it. We’ll find Corbin and the kid he kidnapped with or without Maxwell.
Langston has a predatory gleam as he looks me up and down. I haven’t changed out of my wedding dress, my hair is dried in long waves, and I’ve been itching to drink something from the minibar to calm my nerves but thought better of it. I want to be completely sober for whatever happens between us tonight.
I throw his look back, pinning him with my stare as I take in his thick muscles that his white linen shirt is clinging to.
The atmosphere changes now that Langston’s in it. The air is warm, electric—a brewing storm.
He walks toward me; words have yet to be exchanged.
Tonight isn’t about words. For the first time, I can fuck Langston without taking something from another woman. Phoenix gave him up. I still have to make a lot of things right between me and her. I owe her my life, and I plan on repaying, but I don’t have to worry about hurting her with every kiss.
Langston grabs the back of my neck, and he pulls me into a wicked kiss. One that involves teeth, tongue, and swollen lips. One that radiates down my entire body setting me aflame. One that cements him in my soul, refusing to let go of this man ever again.
I have to be careful tonight. I have to guard his heart. I have to protect him.
“Why do you still want to kill me?” I ask him as his open mouth comes down hard on mine for another kiss.
They’re the first words I’ve spoken to him since we got married in the church.
He stops his kiss, his l
ips pausing on my upper lip. He pulls back gently, giving me just enough room to breathe but not enough to not be exchanging oxygen with him. He thumbs the vein in my neck.
“Why do you still hate me?” he asks, answering my question with a question.
Because I can’t love you, I can’t keep you. All I’m going to do is hurt you. And I hate you for turning me into a killer. I already know my first kill is going to be the slaughter of your heart.
I nip his top lip.
He grabs my ass as I wrap my legs around his waist. His kisses turn soft, graceful like a choreographed dance as he carries me toward the bed.
Warning bells go off inside my head, reminding me that we shouldn’t fuck in a bed like normal people. That level of intimacy, now that we are married, can only lead to heartbreak.
I grab his hair and yank hard, pulling his lips off mine.
He growls, not liking that I’m taking control or stopping his possessive kisses.
“Don’t fuck me in the bed,” I say.
