Page 34 of The (Maybe) Murderer Who Knocked Me Up

“My orgasm won’t stop,” he says, lifting his knees to dig his heels into my lower back. “Oh my God! Slade!”

He eggs me on, and I keep going, riding our pleasure like a roller coaster. I’m gasping and sweaty, but I’ve never felt more alive. I want to say something stupid, like I’d give anything for a chance with him. But I keep my mouth shut and show him how much I want him with the rhythm of my hips.

We come down together. I feel the softening of his body first. He wraps his arms around me and curls his head into my chest. Choking back the “I love you” in my throat takes all the willpower I have. He’s perfect, but I promised him that the sex would come with no strings attached.

“Please don’t go,” he whispers. “Not yet.”

Obviously, I can’t. Our bodies are tied, and even if they weren’t, he’s my ride. But my inner alpha preens at Quin’s words.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise.

Not until he asks me to.

17

SEQUIN

One thing is for certain: I am terrible at no-strings-attached sex. That sex tied up all the strings in my heart into a pretty little bow, and now all I want to do is lie here and cuddle with Slade all day. What happened to keeping things simple for Chime’s sake? I don’t want things to be simple. I want to flirt and exchange sweet nothings with a convicted murderer.

What is it about this man that makes me do stupid things every time we’re together?

His knot is still wonderfully large inside me. I wiggle a little because it creates this delicious friction that feels too good to resist.

“If you keep doing that, it will never go down,” Slade whispers in my ear.

Does he want it to? Maybe sex was all he needed to get over me. After all, we don’t know what’s going on with our connection. What if he loses interest, and I’m still hung up on him?

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask.

He presses his forehead to mine. “No. I could do this all day.”

We are never leaving this bed. I won’t have the willpower.

My phone dings. It sounds like it’s on the floor by the bed. Before I decide whether to ignore it, Slade reaches his enormous arm over the side of the bed and retrieves it. The screen has a message from Silver.

Chime says you allow her to drink caffeinated soda? That sounds suspect to me. She claims that she drinks Dr. Pepper ‘all of the time.’

Slade doesn’t even glance at the screen. He just hands me the phone. Why does he have to be perfect when he isn’t murdering people? It’s confusing.

I’m torn between ignoring the text, and therefore reducing Slade’s chance of seeing Chime’s name, or responding immediately because of course Chime doesn’t drink Dr. Pepper all of the time. That’s completely ridiculous.

I get an irrational urge to just tell Slade about Chime. He would be gentle with his own daughter, wouldn’t he? After all, he was protecting his younger brother when he killed that guy, and he seems incredibly kind, even after six years in Sciff.

Seems being the key word. I can’t risk it. Even if I really want to. It wouldn’t be fair to Chime.

He begins to shrink inside me. I’m not ready for this to be over. I bury my head in his chest, savoring the warmth of his hard body.

“We don’t have to leave yet if you don’t want to,” Slade offers. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, which doesn’t make this any easier. Because we do have to leave.

“My moms are waiting,” I remind him.

“Okay.” Slowly, he pulls out of me. I feel the loss of him straight to my core. The idea of never being with him again is overwhelming, I try not to think about it. That’s what I’ve been doing for six years, and for the most part, I’ve been able to survive without falling apart.

He brushes his lips against my forehead. “If you ever want me again… for any reason.” He leaves the rest unsaid. Technically, he isn’t going against our agreement to keep things no strings attached, but I know his words will haunt me. Every time I yearn for him, I’ll know that all I have to do is pick up my phone, and I can have him in my bed.

Except I don’t have his number. That’s good.

He walks off to the bathroom buck naked. I stare at his muscled ass as he goes, and my cock gives a half-hearted effort to perk up. His back is beautiful too. The broad muscles along his shoulders are massive. They say grizzly shifters are strong enough to bend the metal bars of a jail cell with their bare hands. That’s why they need to be incarcerated in a special prison.

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