Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
After what we’ve both been through, there isn’t much I’m afraid of anymore.
“We go dark,” I tell her as she holds my gaze in the steam-filled room. “At first I was thinking we could fake our deaths but—”
“That would kill Eden and Sergio. I can’t do that to my sister.”
“Exactly. So we go dark for a few days, but I have a way to signal Sergio. He’ll know we’re alright, but he won’t tell anyone else.” Sergio’s a fucking vault.
Starla nods, her eyes shining.
“I have one question.”
I brush her wet hair out of her face. I lean in and kiss her forehead. I love her so much my heart aches.
“What’s that?”
Quirking a brow at me in that adorable way that makes my heart melt, she asks, “Does this new plan involve me getting to use my gun?”
I lean in and nibble her ear. “I’m not. And you’re going over my knee for your completely reckless disregard for your safety.”
“Timeo,” she groans. “Also, answer the question.”
“I love you, you little brat.” My heart feels lighter than it has in years. “Not only do you get to use your gun, but because I’ve wanted you to have an upgrade, I’ve bought you the slickest, most compact, sexiest gun you’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, hell yes! I love you so much. I mean, even if you didn’t buy me a gun. Where is it?”
A knock sounds at the door. We both still. This is our life now. We take nothing for granted.
“Probably room service, but let’s see.”
We exit the bathroom wrapped in fluffy white robes, but I’m armed. I go to the door and peer through the peephole.
Room service.
Still.
“Leave it by the door, please.”
Starla’s behind me, her feet planted shoulder width apart, hands on hips. I watch through the peephole again as they leave the food on a large silver tray.
The hallway’s empty.
“I’ll get the food, you cover me,” she says.
“Perfect.” I open the door, looking in both directions, my gun poised and ready to shoot. I give a nod. She steps in front of me and picks up the tray with a groan.
“Oh my God, are we expecting company? An entire football team, perhaps?”
I grunt in reply and as soon as I confirm there’s still no one in the hall, take the heavy tray from her and kick the door shut.
“So. This is our life now?” she asks, grabbing an enormous glass dish of chocolate mousse. “We pull guns when the room service we ordered actually comes?”
I set the tray of fries, wings, and cake down on a side table and slide it over to the edge of the bed.
“For now, yeah.”
She grins. “Where’s that sexy gun?”
“Hard for me to take you seriously when you have chocolate mousse on your lips.”
Rolling her eyes, she sticks out her tongue and laps it up.
“Fuck, if I wasn’t so tired—”
“Let’s eat. Finish forming our plan. Take a little nap,” she says with a wink. “Give me my gun.”
“Say please.”
With a sigh, Starla folds her hands. “Please, please, pretty please can I have it now?”
I point to her plate. “Finish your dinner first.”
With a pleased little smirk, she inhales the food with my help.
“Alright. It’s time.”
I hand her the Staccato 2011 CS I got. When I saw it at the gun store, I knew it was made for her.
“Whoa,” she breathes. I’m hard as fuck seeing her with the sleek gun in the palm of her hand. “You weren’t kidding.”
I lean back against the pillows. “Show me how you hold it, baby.”
When she poses and shows me, practices, and I’m convinced we’re fully prepared to use it, we finally crash in bed.
Tomorrow, we take care of business.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Starla
I wake early in the morning. Through the small crack under the shade we pulled last night, faint blue morning light peaks in.
“Morning, beautiful.”
I roll over and cuddle close, my cheek pressed up against him. Wordlessly, his hand rests on the back of my head.
We don’t talk. Sometimes, there are no words for what has to happen.
Leaning down to kiss me, he cups my jaw and touches his lips to mine. I sigh into him, swallowing his kiss and his own deeply male moan of pleasure. His tongue touches mine, and pressure builds between my thighs when I feel his length grow hard between us.
I kiss his cheek and he kisses my shoulder. We’re lying naked, flesh to flesh, our robes long discarded. I silently slide myself onto his chest and his arms come around me, holding me in place. He once kissed me nearly to orgasm.
It’s my turn now.
I languidly kiss his stubbled cheek, rugged and masculine, the faint scent of snow-capped mountains mixed with the satiny soap of last night’s bath still lingering. I kiss his shoulder, his tattoos, the bulge of his biceps and corded forearms. I kiss his chest and when I lick his nipple he hisses in a breath and palms my ass, hard. I squeal but keep kissing.