Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
I just about manage to hold off my release until she opens her eyes. “Look,” I order, and she turns her drowsy gaze down at the moment I explode, cum shooting upwards and hitting her stomach, her chest, her boobs, in powerful surges. And with the explosion of my dick comes the deflation of my chest. I exhale, my body rolling, every muscle stiff, aching, painful.
But it’s the best kind of agony out there.
Spent.
I peel my grip away, letting my semi-erect cock fall to my stomach, and let my arms rest above my head, closing my eyes as she lowers onto my front, but she doesn’t settle on my wounds. So I force her down. And we lie, quiet, peaceful, exhausted, for over an hour, snoozing, holding each other, reconnecting in another way.
“I will never leave you,” she whispers, forcing my arms to come down and hold her. She looks up at me, taking a finger to my scar and tracing the length. “Only death will separate us.” Her touch moves to the bullet wound by my collarbone.
“Will it?” I ask.
She blinks slowly and settles back on my chest gently, stroking one of my cuts. “No.”
Because we cannot exist without each other. It’s a hard fact. A frightening fact. Which means I have no choice but to be careful with my life.
“I should get Doc,” I say, making to move.
“Why?” She lifts, giving me a look somewhere between tiredness and humor. “Are you going to have him check me over every time you fuck me?”
“I didn’t fuck you,” I say, pressing a hard kiss on her lips. It’s the only hard thing I can do to her right now. “Your fingers fucked you.” Holding her around her back, I pull her stomach onto my mouth and kiss her gently there, smiling at her small bump. It’s hope when it feels like it’s limited. Happiness when it feels like misery prevails. “Rest,” I order, getting up and going to the bathroom, flipping the shower on. “I’ve worn you out.”
“You talk yourself up, Danny Black.” I only just hear her pathetic insult over the water. “I did all the work.”
I smile into the mirror at myself and pluck my toothbrush from the holder. I can’t say I like the man staring back at me today. But he’s a much better version than he used to be. Still a killer. But a killer with more purpose. More drive. It’s a blessing and a curse, because my drive and purpose are what my enemies will now use against me. I load my brush with paste as I stare at my bandaged chest, and I am reminded that my wife can cause me more damage than my enemies ever can.
I scrub my teeth before I get into the shower and do my best not to get my bandages wet. Impossible. I keep my back to the spray and make fast work of washing before getting out and patting myself dry. I peel away the soggy dressing and grab some fresh bandages, refusing to look at the damage as I wrap myself back up, holding my breath, the biting pain back. I walk into the bedroom, and the post orgasm sparkle in Rose’s eyes vanishes the moment she sees my fresh bandages. Which is exactly why I refuse to let her redress my wounds. “Where are you going?” she asks from the bed, where she’s curled up on her side, the sheets caught up between her legs.
“I’m taking James to the boatyard. He needs to let off some steam.” I pull on some jeans and button the fly before slipping my feet into my boots. “Then we’re going to the club to sort some business.” I go to her and dip, kissing her forehead. “Text me and let me know what Doc says.”
“I’m fine.”
“Text me and let me know what Doc says.”
“Okay.” She exhales over the word. “I will text you and tell you what Doc says.”
I wrinkle my nose and rub it against hers, then grab a T-shirt and pull it on as I walk to the door.
“Danny,” she calls, making me look back over my shoulder. “I still want to find something to do. A hobby, a job. Something.”
Absolutely not. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” I leave the room before she can counter my dismissal, pulling the door closed behind me. I find James waiting outside. He shakes his head, telling me not to ask. So I don’t. I don’t need to.
He gets moving, and I join him. “Ready to race?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t need to.
10
ROSE
I stay on the bed for another half hour, not physically exhausted, but definitely mentally. You’d think by now, after weeks of constant worry and swaying emotions, my body would be used to it. Accustomed to it. And yet I feel as exhausted now as I did the moment James resurrected Danny after being peacefully dead for three years.