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“Inviting you into our bed was supposed to be a one-night occurrence. Inviting you to move in is another situation entirely.”
“If you need someone to blame, tell him I invited myself. But if you really want me out, you’ll have to call the police to have me removed.” He leaned past me, opened the fridge, and removed a bowl of grapes he’d washed and put in there earlier. I had to admit, he made sure there was healthy food on hand and kept the place clean much better than I ever had.
I watched him as he ate a few grapes. He paused, then put one to my lips. When I didn’t open my mouth at first, he frowned. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and let it in.
He wasn’t a flashy, overbearing dominant—instead, he was calmly persistent, as though he knew I’d eventually obey. It was, unfortunately, effective with me.
In all honesty, I loved having him around. I hadn’t realized how lonely I’d become. When he wasn’t stalking me and doing hot, nasty things to me, he was listening. Watching.
I never felt like my interests bored him.
I never felt likeIbored him.
“I’ll have to talk it over with Valor.”
He snorted. “If Valor doesn’t want me here, he can fly to Prague and fight me for you.”
Ugh. Men.
“Let me guess…youwant me to tell him that?”
“Of course.” His mouth curved in a sinister smile. “You can also tell him I plan to use every spare moment trying to put my baby in his enchanting wife’s belly.”
His gaze on mine was unwavering, and his smile was a possessive, panty-melting promise.
The level of desire it sparked should have triggered spontaneous combustion. My blush felt like it had crept all the way up my body from my pussy.
The man had been there when I’d gotten my birth control shot. Why did he keep talking as if he could magically counteract my contraception?
“I’m not telling him that!” I managed to gasp out.
“Not a problem. I’ll tell him that part, myself.”
Shit.
Chapter Eight: Valor
Why hadn’t I done this sooner?
Sure, the flight had been long, but surprising her would be completely worth it.
How had we come to the point where I had to pull up a map on my phone to find my own wife’s apartment? Yes, we were both busy with work, but in retrospect, the fact that I hadn’t made the time to do this yet was shameful.
Worse, it took the Frenchman pointing out how fucked up that was before I’d even considered making the trip.
Would Loïc be here, or would he have disappeared again?
Where did the man even go?
Was he out there, tormenting other previously happy couples?
I doubted it. He liked us too much.
When he was gone, we missed him, even though we shouldn’t. Self-consciously, I put my hand over the initials he’d carved into my chest. They’d healed over since he put them there, but they’d scar. Every time I caught sight of them in the mirror, I tried to be angry, but instead I felt…deliciouslyowned. If anything, I was angry about how much it turned me on and embarrassed at how often I’d gotten off to the memory of him cutting me.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I put Leduc from my mind as I pushed open the door of my wife’s apartment building.
