Page 114 of Black Heart

“Say it again,” Marty whispered.

“Mo ghrá,” Tristan said, letting his brogue thicken as he reached into his boxers and pulled his cock free.

“Your arm,” Marty mumbled weakly as she watched his hand slowly move over his cock.

“Won’t move an inch,” Tristan promised as he watched her.

“There’s a list of rules,” she mumbled helplessly.

“And I’ll follow them, mo ghrá,” Tristan promised, knowing that he wasn’t playing fair and not fucking caring, not if it meant being able to touch his wife again.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Marty asked while she considered him.

Without a word, Tristan ran his hand over his cock one last time before he pulled his hand away and reached back, grabbing hold of the headboard. He watched as Marty watched the move before she met his gaze.

Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached down and pulled the nightstand drawer open and had him groaning when she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He watched as she reached over and cuffed his good arm before she attached the other end to the headboard.

“What now?” Tristan asked as he watched her pull off her shirt and drop it on the floor.

“Now, I finish my interrogation,” Marty said, hooking her thumbs in her panties before she slowly pulled them down, nearly fucking killing him as he watched her reveal the soft, neatly trimmed curls glistening between her legs.

“What else do you want to know?” Tristan asked, watching as she climbed back onto the bed and settled onto his lap.

“Just how long you’ve been in love with me, Detective Black,” Marty asked, leaning over to brush her lips against his and-

“Forever.”

EPILOGUE

“Stop fucking judging me!”

“It’s a stupid show!”

“It’s misunderstood!”

“It was supposed to be a three-hour tour. Why the hell did they need all that fucking luggage?”

Shayne glared at Finn as he pointed towards his bedroom door. “I told ye never to bring that up again!”

“It’s a stupid show,” Finn muttered with a shrug before he disappeared.

“Yer dead to me, ye bastard!” Shayne yelled after the confused bastard.

It was a great show, damn it!

“How are they supposed to make banana cream pies on a deserted island without milk, flour, or butter?” Declean demanded from the comfort of Shayne’s bed.

Shayne didn’t bother answering him as he flipped Declean off and stormed out of his bedroom. As he walked down the hallway towards Tristan’s bedroom, he cursed Declean and his preciousFood Channelto hell and back. Thanks to that betraying bastard, he now had a craving for banana cream pie and no way to get his hands on one.

“Sorry, lad,” Quinn said with a shrug as he appeared in front of Tristan’s door.

“Still?” Shayne asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Aye,” Quinn said, chuckling. “Seems the lad really missed her.”

“Oh, come on! It’s been two days!”

Quinn simply shrugged as he gestured for Shayne to turn around and leave. Snorting in disgust, Shayne moved to pound on Tristan’s door. Two days with Marty was more than enough, especially since he was bored.

---