Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Jesus, Damian,” she giggles, pulling her apron up so it covers her breasts. “You really are an animal, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I growl.
“What was that about, though?”
“Uncle Sam has given me three million dollars and told me I’m a hero, basically,” I say, laughing and shaking my head. “This world is crazy, Popstar.”
“You deserve it,” she says passionately, flying to my side and squeezing me tightly.
“And you deserve this,” I growl, realizing that this is it, our moment, and I’m done waiting.
I fall to one knee and stare up at her, heart pounding hard but the base of my manhood pulsing harder. I reach into the inner pocket of my jacket and take out the ring box, the act making me feel lighter.
“Dakota Clark,” I growl. “I love you. That’s it, plain and simple. I. Love. You.”
She blinks and tears glisten in her eyes, dancing in the California sun.
“I love you,” she gasps. “I’m so glad you said it, baby. I love you so much.”
I open the ring box to show her the glistening diamond. I made sure it was just like my queen, elegant but full and sparkly and bright too.
“I love you more than life itself,” I growl. “And you’re going to be my wife. That’s the way it is. I’m not asking. So either you give me a symbolic yes and I claim you. For life. Or I carry you away from here and take you back on the road. Your heart, your soul, your love, your womb and your cunt, and everything you are belongs to me, and I’m going to put a ring on your finger so every other beast in this world knows to stay away. So, will you? Marry me?”
I smirk and she giggles, throwing herself down and wrapping her arms around me. Sparky leaps up at her legs, desperate to be part of the moment. He springs into my lap and climbs up my chest, licking at my chin until Dakota and I are laughing like crazy people.
“I love you,” she giggles, crying, beautiful. “I love you so much.”
“Is that a yes?” I whisper.
“Of course it’s a yes. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”
I take the ring and lean back, watching her as I slide it onto her finger, her smile making me smile just as widely.
Men in my business don’t smile, it’s true.
But when the love of my life is smiling so radiantly, like an angel, I can’t help it. And it feels good, to let go, to finally realize that I was always a man just like any other. A killer, but a man all the same.
I just hadn’t found the woman to half-tame me yet.
And now I have.
I’m never letting her go.
Epilogue
Two Weeks Later
Dakota
I stare down at the test with angels singing in my heart.
I keep expecting it to go poof and disappear, or for me to blink and open my eyes and realize I’m still at Dobry’s dinner, trying to walk awkwardly in my heels.
But Andrei and his arm of the Bratva are all in prison for life. Damian fought and protected us and now we’re wealthy and engaged and ready to take on the world.
I turn to the other tests on the counter and then gaze at my reflection, shell-shocked.
I walk out of the bathroom and through the house, everything smelling fresh and new from where I’ve been lighting vanilla-scented candles. Little touches of him here and there – his boots, his workout dumbbells, his jacket over the kitchen table – warm me inside as I walk toward the garden.
I stand on the back porch and watch as Damian leaps to the side, grinning at Sparky. Sparky is primed and ready to go, mouth open, tongue lolling. Damian is shirtless, his jeans hanging casually and dirty over his bare feet. Sweat flecks his hard muscles as he bares his teeth at his – our – dog.
“Come on, boy,” he laughs.
He’s going to make such an amazing father.
“Damian,” I say, voice hitching a little.
He pauses. “Popstar? What is it? Is something wrong?”
He jogs over and I walk on autopilot down the steps, and then look up at him when he cradles me in his arms, hugging me close to him so that I can feel and taste and scent his sweat, his musky just-him smell.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper.
“Say it again,” he growls. He takes my face in his hands and stares hard at me with his luscious blues. “Is it true, Dakota?”
“Yes,” I cry. “I’ve done like ten tests at this point. I’m pregnant.”
“I love you,” he growls, kissing me so hard my lips feel like they could shatter.
But then they melt instead and I sink into him, gasping as our tongues dance together, sizzling, hot, burning. He slides his hands down to my hips and grabs, big greedy handfuls of my flesh.