Page 65 of Unhinged Little Angel

“Just a little?” I rest my hand on his thigh, because touching him is my new favorite addiction, and because I can.

He holds up his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart. “Little bit.”

Don’s apartment was in Newcrest, a lower income suburb of Wildcliff, and currently part of the Fitzpatricks’ territory. Which happens to be only a few minutes away from the overlook where I took Dante before he kidnapped me. And that’s exactly the direction we head, in the fading light of the afternoon, an intoxicating sense of closure and the excitement of what’s next making us trade smiling glances. He rolls down the windows and cranks up the music, resting his hand on top of mine on his thigh and lacing our fingers together.

When we reach the clearing, he cuts the engine and the sudden silence rings in my ears for a few seconds.

“Should I strip search you again?” I slide my hand to the back of his neck and draw him forward as much as I can with the center console still between us.

Our noses bump and I can’t stop staring at the smile on his lips, wanting to taste the joy and relief on them.

“If you want.” He flicks his tongue along the seam of my lips. “I might fight you this time though.”

My cock twitches at the fantasy of Dante playing a mouthy informant who’s afraid I’ll find the wire he’s hiding.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Angioletto,” I purr.

He gives my chest a little shove and nips at my bottom lip.

“Come on, we’re celebrating,” he reminds me, hopping out of the car and going around to the trunk. I slip off my jacket andleave it in the car, loosening my tie and rolling up my sleeves before I get out after him.

He pulls a bottle of champagne out of the trunk and waves it at me.

I open my mouth to tease him again, but he beats me to it.

“It’s still corked, so obviously I didn’t drug it. Seriously, you have to drop this joke already.” He groans, passing me the bottle.

“If I’d drugged and kidnapped you, would you ever let the joke go?” I arch an eyebrow at him while I uncork the champagne, quickly bringing the bottle to my lips to slurp up the bubbles that cascade over my knuckles.

“Of course I would.”

I snort. “Liar.”

I shake my sticky hand off and take a proper sip, then pass the bottle to Dante and take a seat next to him on the hood of my car, still warm from the engine and the sunshine it spent all day basking in.

“Fine, you’re right, I’d torture you about it forever. I feel like there should be a statute of limitations though.”

“Hmm, how about ten years?” I offer.

“If we’re still married in ten years, you’ll drop the kidnap jokes?”

I growl at his choice of wording, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and dragging him close again.

“There is noif, Angioletto. I thought we were clear on that. You’re mine, now and forever.”

“Until death do us part?” His voice dips low, and there’s a flutter of hope and vulnerability in the statement… question?

I bump my nose against his again. I catch his lips in the kiss I’ve been aching for for hours now, since the moment I watched his eyes flash dangerously right before Don came home. The sweetness of a sip of champagne lingers on his lips and tongue.

“That’s right, Angel,” I murmur. “And I’m not even sure I’ll let death keep us apart.”

A puff of breath dances over my damp lips, along with the vibrations of his laughter. “If anyone could stare death in the eye and kick its ass, it’s us.”

I chuckle along with him, sliding my fingers through his hair and kissing him deeper again, our teeth bumping with the awkward stretch of our smiling lips. I would bet on the two of us every damn time, that’s for fucking sure.

EPILOGUE

6 MONTHS LATER

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