Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Boston’s hand slips from mine, and he puts his mask on before he joins the others. I stand watching them, completely transfixed. They’ve spread out in a semicircle around the guy, leaving the direction of the forest as his only escape.
They start chanting something, and it takes me a moment to understand exactly what they’re saying.
“In the shadows we hunt. In the night we kill.”
I lean against Victor’s car as one of them squats down and tells the man to start running. They wait as the guy takes off into the forest. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do as I watch each of them follow until I’m left in the darkness by myself.
I keep going over the words I said to Boston. I’ve never told a man that I love him, and yet it slipped out so easily with him.
And he didn’t even say it back.
Does he not like me? Surely, he does. What is there not to like? Sure, I’m a little bit messy. Sure, I like strawberry milkshakes more than the next person. But maybe he finds those things endearing.
I start kicking rocks as the forest grows quieter and quieter. Then, I climb into the back of Victor’s car, not shutting the door, so at least the air can circulate. I lie back and close my eyes, then I pull out my phone and call Carrie. Thankfully, she answers on the first ring.
“I take it you’re still alive,” she says.
“Yes, thankfully. But no more work for them,” I tell her.
“Noted.”
“I told him I love him,” I blurt.
“You what?” she asks, baffled. “You don’t…” She pauses. “You love him?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I do.”
“You do know he’s a detective, right?” I laugh because she’s well aware that even though he’s a detective, he’s also part of the Forsaken Society. Which means he isn’t as clean as he appears to be.
“I’m well aware.”
“Hang up the phone,” someone booms from outside the car.
“I have to go,” I whisper to Carrie.
Putting the phone down, I look up to see Boston standing there with his mask on. I know it’s him, not just because of what he’s wearing, but because of his voice.
I go to move, but his words stop me. “Stay there. Take off your jeans.” He reaches down, and my pulse quickens as he slips my red heels from my feet. He carefully puts them on the ground, making my breath catch. He’s well aware that they’re my favorite pair, and he’s treating them as such.
I shimmy my jeans down to my hips, but he gets impatient and yanks them all the way off, then leans into the car and spreads my legs as far as they’ll go. He shoves the mirrored mask to the top of his head, then his mouth is on my clit before I can utter a word, and I gasp at the contact.
He flicks his tongue, and I can’t help the moan that slips from my lips. He’s so fucking gifted with his mouth. He slips a finger inside me, followed by a second, pumping them in and out of me as his mouth continues working my clit.
“Come, baby. Now.” He curls his fingers, and that, paired with the magic he’s weaving with his mouth, has me doing as he commands. My body shakes as he backs away and stands. And when I look up at him, he puts his fingers in his mouth and licks them clean before he slips his mask back over his face.
“Of course I fucking love you too. I’m pretty sure I have from your first milkshake,” he says, then walks off, leaving me there.
I pull my jeans on as I watch him walk back into the forest.
He loves me.
I’m glad my husband loves me. I would hate to have to kill him because he broke my heart.
FORTY-SIX
BOSTON
Damn, this guy can run, and I’m sure as fuck not going to run since my stomach is still healing. I’m going to stay as close to Maven as possible. There’s no way I’m leaving her by herself in that car. That’s my fucking wife.
Just as I step back into the forest, someone comes running at me, hitting me hard in the side, and I fall to the ground. Pain shatters through me, not just from the impact, but because of my fucking wound.
“Fuck you,” the person yells, and I know it’s the guy who’s running for his life. The one she was meant to kill. He tries to scramble away, but I reach out with the same hand that was just inside my wife only moments ago and capture his ankle. He falls, not expecting me to grab him, but he manages to catch himself with his hands. He tries to kick me, but I roll to the side, then quickly get up and chase after him.