Page 99 of Moth to a Flame

Every good memory of hers is a good memory of mine.

“You don’t have to say that.”

“No, I don’t.” I get off the highway, following the signs leading to our home. “I’m always up to anything when it comes to you. I’ll always be happy that you had a great childhood. Great life. It’s not like it was at my expense. Even if it were. Had I been given the choice between the two, I’d let you have a sister. It’s a no-brainer. I’ll always want what’s best for you. Nothing to feel guilty about.”

The paths are getting narrower. Soon, if I roll down the window, I’ll be able to smell the ocean.

“You’re too selfless, Landon.” Concern taints her voice.

“I care for you. And I’m interested in the story you’re withholding from me. Talk.” She’s hesitant, and I won’t have it. “We’re almost out of time. Almost home. When we get there, I’m bending you over the first hard surface we stumble onto. I’ll fuck five orgasms out of you. Six if you’re good. If you talk to me.”

“The chastity belt.” That little tease is lifting the skirt of her dress. Pulls down the waistband of her leggings to flash me both her gun and her pussy. “I don’t know if I want it off today.”

The glint of metal and the scent of her arousal. Her thick thighs and soft skin.

Fuck. Me.

“You say that like you have a choice.” I push her dress down or I’ll lose it.

“Fine, fine,” she huffs and laughs. Who would’ve thought that the girl who couldn’t touch herself would becomethistempting? Me. I did. “The first scary story I remember was of this monster we had under the bed. Dad convinced Rosemary and me that it was real.”

“He did?” Yes, I grew up in a fucked-up home and saw a lot of shit.

This is something else.

“Yeah. He described it in great detail. It was green with purple horns and dark blue, long, curved fingernails.” Her voice turns into the one you use to tell scary stories around the campfire. “Dad said it had wide, red eyes that could take pictures and send them directly to Satan when it was in the mood to punish anyone.”

“All that when you were three?”

“That’s the first memory of his stories, yeah.”

“Were you ever scared?” I give her a side glance, smirking. Of course she wasn’t.

“Never. We had such a vivid image of it in our heads that when we peeked under the bed and it wasn’t there, we were actually disappointed.”

“Huh.” It’s insane how much deeper and deeper I fall for her.

“What about you? Tell me about your family.”

“They’re boring.” And fucking awful.

“Landon, please.” She covers my palm with her other hand. “Hearing about your past won’t make me change my decision to be with you. Same as nothing can change yours. We’re together forever.”

“Some things, some people, are a waste of breath. Hold on, love. I see something.”

We’re nearing the entrance to my house.

The wrought iron gates come into view. A shadow of a person standing by his car is backlit by the lights in my driveway.

My senses are on high alert, protectiveness in overdrive, muscles straining. Adrenaline shoots through my body.

I reach for the Smith & Wesson I keep in the glove compartment. Regan should feel safe without her pistol on her all the time. She can too, because I’m always prepared.

“Where are you going?”

“Shoot him first, ask questions later.” I grip her chin, making sure she hears me. “You cannot leave this car. Understood?”

Any remnant of humor is lost from her face. She’s powerful and somber and a fucking queen.

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