Page 53 of Bullet

I walked to the other side of the mattress and, leaving my jeans on, slid under the sheet and quilt. Irested my arms above my head, and a heavy sigh relaxed my body.

She stirred, and the bed dipped as she turned toward me. Her sleepy eyes parted. I didn’t reach for her, just smiled, and closed my eyes. But as I breathed in the scent of her, I felt the heat of her stare and heard the catch in her breath.

Moments passed, neither of us moving and neither of us sleeping. Building tension soaked the room in quiet.

“I’m not fucking my girls, Stormy. I’m not fucking anyone, not as long as I’m in your bed.” The words hung between us. My intention wasn’t to get between her thighs, at least not tonight. I didn’t know what the fuck this was between us, but it wasjust between us.

Fabric rustled. “Okay.”

I turned my head as her eyes closed, and she snuggled into her pillow. I heaved a heavy exhale, closed my eyes again, and finally found sleep. The soul-deep sleep of the dead. But it didn’t last long.

Soft skin slid across my bare chest, and the weight of her thigh settled between mine. During the night, Stormy had wrapped herself around me like a koala. Predawn glow broke the horizon. Morning mist slipped through the window she’d left open, chilling the room. But her warm body curled against mine. Her arm rested on my chest, her fingertips tickling my flesh. With her head cradled against my shoulder, I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her closer.

Her eyes opened and lifted to mine. Fuck, but she was pretty. Her features were soft in the pale light coming through the thin curtains.

“Why?” she whispered.

“There can be a lot of questions in one word.” I knew the one she asked. I swallowed the answer staining the tip of my tongue because whatever her question, the answer would be yes.

Yes, I wanted to protect her. She had my guts twisted and my cock hard. So no, I wasn’t going to fuck anyone else, because yes, I wanted to be with her—only her—even though I knew she was going to leave. I didn’t care about tomorrow.

Her fingers traced the edge of the ink on my chest—a cross, topped with thorns, and dripping blood. Beneath were the wordsHave Mercy on my Soul. A table of tally marks inked my ribs. Yes, I was going to kill for her. Soon there would be another hash mark. More if anyone else threatened her.

I traced a circular pattern on her bare shoulder. She shivered as I dragged my fingertips along her collarbone and into the hollow of her throat. Her back arched, and the sleep cami hanging loose on her body molded to her small round tits and revealed the shadow of her beaded nipples.

Her hand covered mine, stilling my exploration of her soft skin. “Last night, you said there wouldn’t be anyone else. Why?”

“Because they wouldn’t be you.” The gravelly edge of my voice sounded harsh in the room. I adjusted next to her, tucking her against my side. Our fingers aligned, palm to palm.

“No wedding ring.”

“Never been married, and no little Hellers running around either.”

Our fingertips touched, pressing into each other. Her fingers were graceful and slender like the rest of her. Light pink polish tinted her nails. The hands of a lady, of a ballet dancer.

I had the hands of a killer, sullied with ink and scars. Rings to represent and to cause a lot of fucking damage in a fight.

“Have you ever wanted to be?” Her gaze lifted to mine. “To be married?”

“Not even close. Never proposed. I can’t say that I’ve ever been in love.” I kept her nestled tight to my side. “Actually, that’s a lie. I was in love once.”

“Yeah?” Her voice lifted. “Tell me about her.”

“She was blonde. Her name was Cinder. But she had too many bad habits. It wasn’t meant to last.”

She smiled. “For you, that’s saying something. Was she a messy eater?”

“Worse. Shit kisser. Too sloppy with drool and all tongue.”

She snorted. “She sounds like your type of girl.”

“I could’ve lived with the licking, but she loved to dig under the fence.”

A giggle rumbled from her chest. “I thought you were serious.”

“I am. I fucking loved that dog. Guess she was like me, a mutt, defiant, and wanted to be free. She got under the fence and ran into the road. A car hit her.”

She was quiet. “That sucks.”

---