Page 112 of Endgame
I’m doing my absolute best to keep a straight face. To breathe in the early morning air and relax.
I think I’m doing such a good job that Everett and I can almost pass as two normal people instead of enemies. Just twopeople standing in the driveway, outside their front door. Rings on our fingers. Our hair and outfits are impeccable.
Well, the two black Mercedes and drivers aren’t what I’d call ordinary, but yeah.
We don’t look like we’re at war either. Like I’m seconds from a meltdown.
Except I am. I really am.
“Please. I’d work at any other job. Would volunteer anywhere else.” He opens his mouth to deny me. I’m quicker. More desperate. “I’d stay out of your way completely. The brat you can’t stand. Wouldn’t it be nice?”
I regret the words the moment I say them, praying it won’t be the part that appeals to him—me, being gone.
The early morning breeze whips at my hair, threatening to ruin my carefully constructed chignon. Neither Everett nor I acknowledge it.
“What makes you think I wouldn’t want you here?” His eyebrows dip. His gaze flickers to my collar. My wedding band and engagement ring. Back to my face. “You’re mine. Here is exactly where I want you to be.”
A singular small butterfly beats its wings in my belly. The possessive statement could be a good sign.
Goodandbad.
Here could meanhereas hiswife. Or his prisoner.
His to torment.
The butterfly flutters its wings in my belly, regardless.
“So keep me here.”
“I have work to do.” His scowl is an expression I’ll never forget. Tight jaw. Narrowed eyes. Lips pressed into a thin line. He comes to me in both dreams and nightmares. “And so do you. I thought I made it clear.”
“I can’t go there.” My scowl won’t ever match his, but the alternative is breaking down and crying. I won’t, not in front ofhim again. Not in front of the staff and drivers. “I thoughtImade it clear.”
“That fucking mouth,” he growls, snapping two fingers around my chin. Stealing my breath away when his lips crush onto mine.
His angry kiss must clean the red lipstick right off my lips.
“You’re going, and that’s final. Cormac”—my new bodyguard, apparently—“will report back to me. You’re free to give him hell. To defy him. Remember this though. You’ll be punished accordingly. I’ll take great pleasure in that.”
It shouldn’t be possible for my stomach to churn and my pussy to ache at the same time.
Apparently, it is.
Everett can make anything happen.
Breathless from the kiss and the mind-fuck he’s putting me through, I nod.
“Go.” But he doesn’t release my chin.
His lips are close. His hot breath mingles with mine. I want it. I don’t.
“Fuck.” Everett bites down on his bottom lip, turning his head to the side. “Go, Aurora. Just go.”
My heart is heavy, my panties are soaked. Nothing I can say or do will change his mind. Nothing will persuade him to have mercy on me.
Cormac gestures to the first Mercedes idling in the driveway. On the short walk to my car, I wonder about Everett. What scarred him so badly that he won’t let himself open up for more than a fleeting moment.
Sooner or later, I’ll figure him out.
