Page 37 of Judgment Day

Fuck. It was like seeing her—actually seeing her—for the first time without blinders on. I saw her the way a man saw a woman. A woman he’d killed for, bled for, given up a vow for.

My blood thrummed—fucking rushed—through me, straight to my cock. She was exquisite. I’d touched this woman. Tasted her. Been inside her. But I was too fucked-up then to realize what a perfect gift that had been.

Jesus, Grey. Control it.

My resolve had been solid for years. There was always a constant pull, a need, an ache. It was there the moment I saw her in the Sanctuary. But I’d mastered it. When I’d sat on the floor and read to her while she bathed, I’d controlled it. Even though watching her made me hard as fuck. I’d told myself it was wrong, wrong for her, wrong for me, wrong for us.

What Lyric and I had was never sexual. It was visceral. It was emotional. But never sexual.

That was then.

Now, I stood here, with no obligation to Sadie—or to Lincoln—and I drank every inch of her in like a man who’d been lost in the desert.

Lincoln stood beside her, dressed in all black. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, exposing his tattoos. If looks could kill, he’d have been my assassin.

Chandler took a long pull of his beer as he watched us shoot daggers at each other.

“Why don’t you just piss on her? Jesus Christ.”

“Because that would ruin my dress?” Lyric replied with a smirk.

There she is.

Chandler rolled his eyes and walked off.

I couldn’t stop the smile that broke free. “He’s adjusting to royal life.”

Lyric laughed. “I think royal life is going to have to adjust tohim.”

“You pulled it off,” I said, remembering the times she effortlessly went from jeans to an evening gown.

Her eyes danced around the room. “I had them all fooled.” Her voice was hushed, like she was sharing a secret.

Lincoln clenched his jaw. “How much longer are you two going to have to play house?”

“I’m working on it.” I wasn’t. Not legally, anyway. I’d set the tone for believability but had yet to start any paperwork. Now seeing her here, looking the part, oozing elegance and sensuality, made me want to stand up and claim her all over again. The press was here, watching, reporting the move of every important person here. It wouldn’t be hard. All it would take was a single touch. A kiss to her temple.

“Work fucking harder,” Lincoln bit out through clenched teeth.

Lyric peered up at him without touching him, perfectly playing her part.She’d seen them here, too.“Linc, can you give us a minute?”

He stared at her as if willing her to change her mind. She stared right back, unbending. He cut me one last glare, then walked toward where Chandler had gone to talk to Leo.

Her shoulders relaxed as she let out a breath and turned to face me. “Sorry about him.”

Her words tugged at my chest.

“His behavior isn’t your responsibility.” I lifted her chin with my index finger. “You look beautiful, Lyric.” I smiled, letting my touch linger on her skin a few seconds too long before dropping my hand to my side. “Mrs. McTavish would be proud.”

“I miss her.” She tilted her head ever so slightly, like she was calling memories to her mind. “And Sam.”My chef.

“They miss you too.”

She sighed and straightened her head. “I miss the library. God, I miss the library. I swear, even after four years there are still so many books I never got to read.”

Wherever she was, I would build her a library. My mind went back to all the nights I’d come home and find her sleeping on one of the sofas, so I’d cover her with a blanket and watch her dream.

Her lips parted in an excited ‘O’, and all I could think about was having them wrapped around my dick.Jesus, Grey.What the fuck?“And the gardens. I miss the gardens. Are they blooming?”

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