Page 77 of Bake the Town Red

Staying. I don’t hate the idea.

I don’t hate that I came inside her, either. That I keep rolling my hips on top of her. Making sure my semen’s not going anywhere other than her womb.

Don’t hate any of it.

“I won’t.” A thrust.A kiss to her nose. “I won’t stay. I’m no good for you. You deserve to live.”

“I’m not on the pill.” There she is, ignoring me again. Her cheeks flush. Eyes lighting up.

It’s as if she’s been waiting her whole life to say these words. To me.

“No, you aren’t.” I’ve been here enough times—rummaged through every drawer, lifted every pillow—to know this. “I want to fill you up with babies, little savage. It’s fucked up. Reckless. So fucking reckless. But I can’t help it.”

“We’re asking for trouble.” Her eyebrows wag. Her teeth tug on her bottom lip as she hikes her hips up. “The good kind.”

She’s right. And I…

The thought of feeding her pussy with cum day and night until she’s pregnant with my child does things to my head. I wouldn’t stop with one, though. Oh, no. For as long as she lives, however short it might be, I’ll pump her full of my seed. Again and again and again.

We’re trouble. A goddamn mess. A steaming pile of…

No. Shit isn’t a good word for us.

Here’s one, though. “Dangerous. We’re dangerous together. Don’t you see that?”

“Beautifully dangerous.”

I lean on both hands. Erect a mental and physical barrier between us.

One of us has to save her, and it has to be me.

I’ll always save you.

From death. Desolation. Freak accidents that are reserved especially for the two of us.

Or maybe nothing will happen. Maybe I haven’t noticed my anxiety creeping up, and now it’s too late. I’m drowning in it. I’m—

I need to relax. That’s what I need to do. Find a way to remember that if anyone in this world deserves a happy ending, it’s Dahlia.

That I’ll be the one who delivers it to her. I’ll be her savior like I promised I would. I’ll work for it. Work for her.

Every second of my life will be devoted to Dahlia and keeping her alive.

Her and our babies.

Our babies.

Christ. Fuck. What happens to them?

They’ll be fine, a voice whispers inside my head. It’s quiet. Too quiet.

It’ll be stronger tomorrow. More convincing. Yes. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I’ll be back here. Tomorrow, I’ll be better. I’ll be able to give her everything.

Tonight, I have to go. I have to be cruel so fate won’t get the wrong message while I’m gone.

We’re not happy together. If I’m mean to her, she can’t be happy. She can’t.

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