Page 76 of Dice & Dekes

“Viktor,” she whispers, “I need you.”

I rise to my feet and push her backward so she lies flat. I lift her legs so that her ankles rest on my shoulders and enter her in a single firm thrust. Her hair falls all around her, and that damn apron covers nothing at all. I want to make this last, but as usual, I can barely control myself around her. With the color high in her cheeks and her swollen lips parted in pleasure, I’m already holding myself back.

She’s so fucking beautiful, and the feel of her, tight and hot around me, is almost too much to bear. I turn my head to the side and kiss her ankle, caressing her leg with one hand.

I don’t know if I can live without her.

Her body grips me like she doesn’t want to let go. And God, I don’t want her to. I want to freeze this exact moment in time, lock it inside me like a memory I can revisit when the world inevitably falls apart again.

The thought of losing her slams into me like a bodycheck from the universe. What if this is fleeting? What if she changes her mind? What if this isn’t real to her the way it’s becoming real to me? I have to grab the edge of the table to support myself. My distress must show in my face, because Knova makes a soft sound in the back of her throat and reaches up to cup my cheek. “Hey,” she murmurs. Her voice is soft, grounding. Her palm is even softer. “Stay with me.”

I move again, harder this time, rocking into her while she cradles my face in one palm. I look into her eyes when I come, and we feel so connected, I wonder if she can read my mind. This moment feels so perfect, like we’ve become more than two individuals. We’re something bigger now.

But I’m not done until she is.

Still buried deep, I shift my grip, one hand bracing her thigh as I slide the other down between us. My fingers find her clit, slick and swollen, and I start to circle. She gasps, legs tightening around me, and I keep going—steady, relentless. Her jaw drops. Her eyes flutter. She whispers my name like a prayer she’s too proud to say out loud.

I watch her come undone, right there on the kitchen table, body arching into mine, her nails digging crescents into my shoulders. That’s when I know.

We’re not just a matched set.

We’re inevitable.

Chapter Nineteen

Knova

The Venom’s road trip hasn’t even cleared TSA when my dad calls, and I already know I’m about to get ambushed with feelings. “Family dinner” is code for “intervention,” and I haven’t dodged parental judgment this hard since I lied about why I got kicked out of Girl Scouts.

“It’s been a minute,” he says. “We miss you.”

“I know. I miss you, too. I’ve just been busy.” It’s not a lie. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Viktor, working on our relationship, both in terms of communication and, you know, other stuff. I’ve seen my parents at games, but I haven’t made time to visit them. In my defense, they’ve been staying with their friends, so we haven’t had a great opportunity for family get-togethers.

Also, if I’m being honest, I’ve been avoiding them. Questions about my current living situation are inevitable, and my dad has never made a secret of his disdain for Viktor. He’s either going to pull the classic Cash Hale Judgy Dad move or try to stage a full-scale extraction mission to free me from the clutches of Viktor Abbott, Loverboy and Alleged Grass-Stomping Dumbass. And if he finds out about the fake wedding… oof.

In spite of all that, I miss my parents, I miss family dinners, and I have no good excuse to put this off any longer.

“See you at six?” I ask.

“Six is great. We love you. See you then.” Usually, when my dad falls back into his old habit of three-word sentences, it means I’m in trouble. Given that the last time we were together, I burned down a house, it makes sense that he’d be curt with me. Ah, well. Time to face the music.

When I pull up to the house just before six, he and Mom don’t seem angry. If anything, they’re in a jovial mood.

“Wait until you see our surprise!” Mom says.

I follow her around to the backyard. “Did they get the house fixed up?”

“They sure did,” Dad says. “Ranger helped us move back in. But look.” He points across the pool toward the pool house.

It looks the same as always, and for an addled second, I don’t understand what the big deal is. Then it clicks. “They rebuilt it already?” I ask.

“Good as new,” Mom says. “You can move back in anytime.”

“Oh.” I blink a few times and tighten my grip on Mom’s arm. “Yeah, great. Thank you.” I’m not sure my tone is convincing, but I’m more conflicted than expected. I should want to move back in, shouldn’t I? It’s only a matter of time before the annulment finally goes through. Though I have to wonder if that’s really what I want anymore.

Dad is giving me a funny look, so I pivot toward the house. “I’m starving!” I say, too loudly. “What’s for dinner?”

Dinner, as usual, is a team effort, including lamb-burgers grilled by my dad and a stunning Greek salad assembled by my mom. When I was kid, I don’t think I appreciated how much they work as a team, but they’re really good at it. One might even say that they’re #relationshipgoals.

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