Page 22 of The Killer's Payment

“Where’s Emily?”

Setting down my tea, I turn to find my husband’s muscular form filling the doorway of our bedroom. James is nearly forty now, but somehow even more handsome than the first time I saw him—seven years ago. The California climate agrees with him. His tan is even deeper now, making the dark green of his eyes stand out even more.

“I told her she could go study,” I say, voice low to avoid awakening our sleeping son. “No point in both of us being bored during nap time.”

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he admonishes me. “This pregnancy has been harder than you than the last.”

“And Iam.” I roll my eyes. “And it hasn’t been that bad. At least I’m not puking every day now.”

I feel a twinge of remorse at the flash of guilt in his eyes. I should be more careful about what I say. Yes, this pregnancyhasbeen harder, and I know James has blamed himself. But there’s a good reason for that. One I haven’t shared yet, wanting to save the surprise for our anniversary.

“Call her and tell her to take him,” he says, crossing the room and pulling the curtains closed. “I have something I want to show you. Call it an anniversary gift.”

For the first time, I notice that he’s holding a silver disc in his hand. Hmm, a video for our anniversary? Not the most romantic gift, but okay…

“Why bother her?” I ask as he crosses over to the entertainment center and slides the disc into the player. “I mean, I know we said no TV or movies for Felix before two, but he’s asleep.”

James shoots me a funny look, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue. But then he just shrugs and says, “Suit yourself, princess. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He joins me on the bed, Felix nestled between us, and hands me the remote. Curious now, I hit play. Ten seconds into the video, though, I turn it off. My husband chuckles as the screen goes black.

“James!” I hiss, sure that my face must be red. “We can’t watch this with Felix in the room!”

At this, Felix stirs, and I groan.

And sure enough, the next instant, our blond-haired little boy looks up at me with imploring green eyes. “Me and Mama watch TV? I big boy now?”

James shakes his head. “Not that big of a boy yet, buddy. But if you’re awake now, let’s go find Emily and get you some juice and goldfishes,” he says, standing and scooping up our son.

“Bye-bye, Mama! I get juice!” Felix shouts, waving at me over James’s shoulder as my husband hustles him out of our bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Once they’re gone, I hesitate. I really should wait and watch this with James, but my curiosity is killing me. When five minutes pass and hestillhasn’t returned, I can’t stand it anymore. I push play.

The same scene I glimpsed earlier fills the screen. On the surface, it’s innocuous enough. An elevator full of Japanese tourists. But it’s an elevator that I’d recognize anywhere…

As I watch, the doors slide open and a voice off camera barks a command.Out.

The tourists shuffle out of the frame and are replaced by me and James. Dimly, I hear the door to our bedroom open, but my eyes are glued to the screen.

I can’t look away. And I can’t keep my hand out of my pajama shorts. Not when the James on the screen is unzipping his pants…

Baby, I need you now.

“I do, quite desperately, in fact,” James says, rejoining me on the bed.

My husband kneels in front of me, careful not to block my view of the television even as his fingers tangle in my hair and he kisses me hungrily. God, kissing this man willnevergrow old.

But when I feel his hands move lower, tugging insistently at my shorts, I stop him. “No, I want to see this.”

“Sutton…” He groans.

“Yes, that’s my name…” I trail off, transfixed by the images on the screen.

“And this time, it means that you can’t deny me,” he growls, removing his pants.

At the sight of hisactualcock, I turn away from the television, pausing the video. Yes, that does require attention. Most definitely. I lick my lips.

“I have no intention of denying you,” I tell him. “But you can’t give me something like this and expect me not to watch it.” I look up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

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