Page 118 of Bake the Town Red

“Come here.” I help her to the bed, kiss her hard and stalk to the bathroom.

Her pussy gets my full attention first. The warm washcloth at my side is used to wipe her clean. The monster inside me has gone to sleep for the night, and I’m being gentle. I’m being careful and attentive as I sterilize her tattoo and bandage it.

“You—I—” she starts. Doesn’t finish, because my fingers rake into her hair, and I lick the words off her sweet lips.

“You should get some sleep.” I’m postponing this conversation until tomorrow. For later. We’ve unraveled too much today. “I’ll wake you at four. Not the alarm. Me.”

Everything about Dahlia is soft as I tuck her in and follow her under the covers. Her body, her expression. Her hand on my cheek.

I cup her cheeks. “I’ll see you at four, little savage.”

“Yes. Four.” She nods. “You strange man. See you at four.”

My lips are on her forehead, where I intend to leave them for the night.

“Hey, Ty?” Her whisper is so soft that I hardly hear it.

“Yeah?”

“You won’t killme.” Pause. “Right?”

“Hell will have to wait a little longer for you.” With an arm around her back, I drag her until her front is flush against mine. “The only way you die is if I die, and then I’m dragging you there with me. I’m done staying away from you. Done keeping you at arm’s length. You’re mine. From now to eternity, Dahlia Valentine. You. Are. Mine.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Dahlia

“Ummm…” A new customer I don’t recognize studies my display. No, not studying. Marveling at it. Her green eyes are huge, and she’s been playing with her blonde ponytail for the last minute or so. “Ugh. I wish I could have everything. At once. Just open my mouth and gobble it all down.”

The customers standing in line don’t say a word. They don’t rush her.

They know they’ll get kicked out if they do. The last few who yelled at one of my customers for admiring my cupcakes got blacklisted.

The rumor has spread its wings, and well, no one’s being a jerk anymore.

In case someone would, there’s always next year.

Maybe Tyler will join me by then. We slept together last night too, and we didn’t discuss what he showed me. Didn’t bring up the angel of death—me—that’s tattooed on his back.

We didn’t have to. We’re fine. He assumes the worst, and he was there, waiting patiently outside my bakery last night to walk me to his home where we slept together.

He could be my partner in slaughter. A chuckle escapes me at the thought.

“I got it.” The woman in the black knee-length sweater beams at me. “I think.”

My instantaneous smile reflects hers. “Go ahead.”

“Give Me Your Eyes to start with.” She points a manicured finger at it. Painted bright orange that matches my dress. That’s fucking awesome.

Not as awesome as her choice.

Give Me Your Eyes was the cupcake Tyler asked for the other day.

Great taste, lady. Great taste.

“Wait.” She raises her hand before I grab her cupcake.

“Yes?”

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