Page 85 of Dirty Game
"Look at him." His voice cracks slightly. "He has my eyes, my mother's nose, the Bane curse written all over him. He's mine."
The confirmation hurts more than uncertainty would have. "So, she wins. She gave you something I never can—a child. A legacy. A piece of yourself that will outlive you."
"Get down, and we'll talk about this."
"Talk about what? How I'm just the virgin you played with while waiting for your real family to return?" I laugh, but it comes out broken, carried away by the wind. "God, I'm so stupid. I thought... I actually thought..."
"Thoughtwhat?"
I turn then, balancing carefully on the narrow ledge, and find him closer than expected.
Still in his tux, bow tie undone, jacket discarded somewhere, looking devastating and destroyed all at once.
His hair is messed from running his hands through it, and his eyes—his eyes are wild with fear.
"I thought Imattered. I thought when you touched me, when you took my virginity, when you said I was yours... I thought it meant something. I thought I was enough."
"It meant everything." He climbs up onto the ledge beside me, and my heart stops. "What are you doing?"
"You jump, I jump after you." He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it because even now, even with my heart breaking, his touch is home. "You live, and I live for you."
"Pretty words."
"The truth." He pulls me closer, both of us balanced on the edge of everything, the city lights below us like a promise or a threat. "You're my choice. She was my curse."
"She has your son."
His free hand cups my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone. "You want to know the difference between you and her?"
"I'm sure you'll tell me."
"She took everything. My trust, my love, my ability to feel. And gave nothing back but scars. You give everything and ask for nothing. She was a performance, every word calculated for effect. You're the truth, even when it hurts. She was my past, a mistake I've been paying for in blood and nightmares. You're my future, the only good thing in my life I didn't have to take by force."
"Your past just showed up with your child."
"And my future is standing on a ledge in a red dress that's been driving me insane all night, thinking she doesn't matter when she's the only thing in my life that does."
"You haven't touched me in days."
"Because I've been trying to protect you. There are things happening—" He stops, jaw clenching. "After the Corsinis, there are questions about my leadership. About my weaknesses. About you. Someone's been spreading rumors that I've gone soft, that loving you has made me vulnerable. I thought distance would keep you safe. I thought if I could just get through this threat?—"
"I don't want safe. I want you."
Something in him snaps.
He kisses me, hard and desperate, forty stories above the city with death a step away in any direction.
His mouth claims mine like he's trying to prove something to me, to himself, to the universe that's constantly trying to tear us apart.
I kiss him back with everything I have—all my hurt, my need, my love I haven't spoken aloud.
The wind whips around us, making us sway, and he pulls me tighter against him, like he can keep us both anchored through sheer will.
"Inside," he growls against my mouth. "Now."
We climb down together, and the moment our feet hit the roof, he's on me.
His hands are everywhere—in my hair, pulling pins free until it tumbles down my back, on my waist, pulling me against him so hard I can barely breathe, framing my face as he kisses me like a man drowning.
