Page 62 of The Puck Player

Ditto, Alexander Reign.

Ialways knew I was a sinner, that I wasn’t bound for something as pitiful as gods and heavens, but dry-fucking a girl against the wall of a confessional is a bit far, even for me. But when that girl is Aubree Callows? Well fuck, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. Heaven, hell, saint, sinner, God, the Devil, all of it so inconsequential when she is involved. It doesn’t matter what she says or what she does, every second I spend with her, I fall deeper into my obsession.

If she wanted the shirt off my back, I would give it to her. If she wanted my heart, I would rip it from my chest and hand it to her on a silver platter. The only thing I wouldn’t do is leave her alone. No, I’m too far gone for that. That’s how fucking deep she has me. I can still feel her shaking and trembling against me, her eyes glazed and filled with satisfaction instead of tears, andwhen she offers me a shy smile, I feel like I have won the greatest prize in the fucking world.

“I’ll go and find the priest,” I finally mutter, squeezing her hips in my hands, relishing in the thick weight of her wrapped around me, not truly wanting to let her go, not when I have barely even had her, and when I go to move, she tightens her hold on me.

“Let’s just go home, Alexander,” she breathes, still struggling to catch her breath as she comes down from her orgasm, and fuck, she is so blindingly beautiful that I can barely stand it.

“What?” I ask in confusion. “What about the priest and your confession?” I add, but Aubree is already shaking her head.

“I already have everything I need, so just take me home, there is nothing left for me here,” she tells me softly, and my heart hammers in my chest as I search her stare, finding nothing but the truth.

“Okay, come on then, Trouble, let’s go home,” I reply, dropping a kiss to her forehead, before slowly and reluctantly letting her legs fall from around my waist, and the smile she offers me this time is everything I have always needed and more.

We leave the church hand in hand, my eyes scanning the darkness back and forth, nodding to the security guys, all the while her fingers stay tightly wrapped in mine. From the church to the car ride, all the way back to the safety of my room, her hand remains clutched in mine, and this simple touch grounds me more than anything ever has before. Once there, she excuses herself for a shower, and I lay out one of my fresh jerseys on the bed, stealing the pajamas she left for herself, before I head to one of the other bathrooms to wash up myself. By the time we’re both done it’s past midnight, and we once again crawl into bed together, something that feels scarily natural already, but everything does when it comes to her. Then, for the second night in a row I watch greedily, as she falls asleep in my arms.

Except sleep doesn’t come for me, not like it did last night, not when that prick is still out there with a hard-on for my fucking girl.

I wait until I am certain Aubree is asleep, before I silently slip out of bed and head downstairs. I check in quickly with the security guys, before moving to make myself a pot of tea, taking a seat at the kitchen island to drink it, which is how Archer finds me.

“Everything okay, brother?” he asks, eyeing me carefully, as he moves to grab a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, and I nod sharply, willing the tea to make me feel better, but for once it doesn’t work.

“Yeah, you?” I snap, not being truthful in the slightest, and I’m sure he detects it in my tone. He’s too perceptive for his own good sometimes.

“Yeah, just nightmares, you know,” he grunts softly, and I do know. Daemon stays here often enough now for me to be well-versed on his night terrors, and I know the only thing that helps him these days is the man standing across from me. “Now stop being a mopey prick and tell me what’s wrong?” he adds, leaning on the counter to glare at me.

“I can’t fucking control it,” I grit, reaching up to press my fingers against the ache in my chest, before quickly dropping my hand and reaching for more tea under his watchful stare.

“Control what?” Archer asks, nodding his head toward my teapot, and I roll my eyes as I move to pour him a cup, taking a deep breath as I try to sort through the thoughts in my head.

“How I feel about her,” I admit with a sigh, and any worry he had is now replaced with a smirk. “I’m just so fucking angry, brother, so angry that I want to find him and kill him with my bare fucking hands.” I don’t have to say the pastor’s name for him to know who I am talking about, I know he understands.

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” he replies darkly, sipping his tea, and I don’t miss the shadows that cross his eyes.

“How do you handle it? How do you control it without losing your damn mind?” I ask him desperately, and it brings another smile to his face.

“You don’t,” he shrugs with a laugh. “That’s love. It’s feeling out of control, it’s losing your damn mind, but knowing the person responsible is worth it anyway. So is she worth it?” he questions, eyeing me over the rim of his pink teacup.

“She’s worth fucking everything,” I tell him truthfully, and he shakes his head with another laugh, knocking back the rest of his tea, before placing his cup back on the tray and rounding the counter, slapping me roughly on the back.

“Then welcome to the club, Alexander, your balls now belong to someone else, so you’re fucked.”

I watch him go, not wasting a second in getting back upstairs to the other half of him, leaving nothing but his words behind. Words that ring in my mind the whole time I drink my tea, and when I make it back to my room and see the girl of my dreams with her pink-tipped hair, who I haven’t even fucking properly kissed yet, spread out across my bed, I know he’s right. I am fucked.

Fucked and completely and totally in love.

Shit. How the hell did this happen?

The driveinto Manhattan for once is not a total slog, not when I have all that is good in the world sitting right next to me. Aubree admitted that she had never been into the city before as we reached the outskirts, and suddenly all the traffic and morning commuters were no longer a bother. I split my attention betweenmy phone and her, watching as her awestruck eyes take in the sights, while also making sure everything is arranged perfectly for when we arrive.

We’re staying in one of the penthouses that my family owns, alongside my parents, although we will have a whole floor to ourselves, and I can tell Aubree is nervous, as she hasn’t stopped fidgeting since we got in the car. When we woke up this morning it was a lot calmer than yesterday. I got to enjoy her sleepy smile, lazy stretches, and blushed cheeks, before we headed downstairs and shared a pot of English breakfast tea. Did I tell you she’s perfect? Then Daemon rustled up some breakfast for everybody, before we bid them all a goodbye and got on the road.

A few extra security guys arrived earlier to keep an eye on the house, and we have one of them with us alongside our driver. Both of them have worked with my family for a long time and I trust them with Aubree’s safety. Which is why I am able to relax and enjoy her taking in the New York scenery, making a mental note to bring her here again when it gets a little warmer. She asks question after question, all of which I answer with ease, making her roll her eyes, but her excitement is just so infectious, and I’d do anything to keep it that way.

By the time we reach the underground parking for our building, Aubree genuinely looks like she is about to throw up, and I smother my smirk, as I jump out of the car and round it so I can open the door for her.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me,” she snaps, knowing me too well already, and I have to swallow a chuckle, as I guide her toward the private elevator by the crook of her elbow.

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