Page 69 of Mine to Ruin

“Thank you, this is beautiful.”

“Good,” he says, his voice filled with pride.

I stop to caress his jaw, and I murmur, “I can’t believe you thought you weren’t boyfriend material. You’re doing everything right.”

He takes my hand in his and kisses my fingertips. “I am a boyfriend. I’m a boyfriend!” he shouts to various rocks.

I laugh, my heart full from watching him being goofy. “You’re a damn good one as well.” My grin stretches across my face as he lifts me in his arms and twirls me around.

“The best.”

“Fine, the best.”

“Come on. We’re not done.”

“There is more?” I ask, clasping my hands together against my chest. I’m the luckiest woman.

He nods, and we walk back to the helicopter, hand in hand. We fly over the Colorado River, then over Fortification Hill, and I can peer into the extinct volcano. He takes another lap while I babble in excitement.

The day passes and we watch the sunset fall over the Las Vegas strip as we fly back. The entire time, surreal joy took residence and accompanied me. Bent over a table, Kian is filling out some papers, and all I can think of is how much I love him. I never felt this alive and overtaken by a feeling so immense it swallows me whole.

In the car, I place my head on his arm, and sleep drags me under. His long finger grazes my chin, and I open my eyes again.

“Are we home yet?”

“Yes, angel.”

I rub the sleep away and climb out of the car, but in the elevator, he puts his arms around me and with my head resting on his chest, I doze off. I’m only vaguely aware of him lifting me up and carrying me to bed.

Chapter 20

Kian

Ellia is like a burst of light and my way to cope with the darkness, with this side of me in which I would tear the whole earth apart. The marks on my brain, my chest, even my blood from my shitty past, are a constant reminder I should have stayed away, but as she lies in my arms, and her breaths even out, I know I would have made her mine regardless.

I have always fought against any chains, and yet I let myself voluntarily be chained by her. I let go, of my demons mocking me, of my conscience screaming at me for dirtying something so pure, but I can’t stop myself. Whenever she opens for me, I bury myself to the hilt inside her, so brave, so wanton, so decadently open to my dirty mind. I fall asleep, inhaling her sweet scent, a whiff of sage and vanilla.

I wake up to her snuggled to me, heat emanating from her body, her full lips in a pout, her lashes fluttering. I am smitten with this woman. She has brought with her not only light, but laughter and colors, and happiness. Everything I ever achieved was for my ego. I had one goal in mind as I survived and thrived in slums, using my fists to make it through, to beat my father at his power plays.

But nothing has felt better than calling this woman mine.

Her eyes open, those round, curious blue eyes that own me. She smiles and my heart takes off in my chest. I am screwed, because there is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her smile. Would she look at me the same if she knew my story, the real one, hidden behind all the glitz and money? I shove the thought away and simply enjoy her.

She runs her fingers along my brow to smooth it and asks, “Hmm, where did you go?”

Her soft voice hits the chords of my heart, and I lean in for my good morning kiss.

“Nowhere, I’m here. Nothing else holds my attention but you.” She’s unique, like a wild flower in a garden full of spins and wilted flowers. She hops off the bed and my eyes follow her entering the bathroom.

I put my hands behind my head and enjoy this moment of perfect peace and calmness. My cell vibrates and my good mood plummets. I snarl as I accept the call, seeing it’s my father.

“What do you want?”

“Your girlfriend seems nice, son. Too nice for you.”

“Stay away from her,” I deadpan.

“Your poor mother, she keeps telling me what a waste, and asking how you could do this to your brother.”

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