Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He snorted. “Creepy. Who kisses with their eyes open?”
“We’re not kissing.”
“Didn’t kill my libido,” he slurred. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be slamming something else into you instead of a bullet—”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re delirious.”
His mouth brushed my neck as he shuddered. “Yeah. But it smells good here. And it’s soft.”
“My neck?”
“Mm. You. Funny girl with your giant protective shell.” He sighed. “I shall call you my turtle.”
“Please don’t.”
“Turtle,” he snapped weakly. “Strip for me.”
“And that,” I muttered, dumping him onto the bed, “is severe blood loss.”
I went in search of first aid. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognized myself—or the very real smile on my face.
It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing, taking the bullet out and attempting to dress his wound, but I had no choice. He’d already passed out so that was the easy part—that was after multiple attempts to get me naked and at one point saying the world would end if I kept my top on. I think whatever was in vial also had some very happy drugs because the guy was snoring now like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I finally had time to shoot a scathing text to Cassian.
Tempest
What the hell was in that vial? He lost his mind.
His reply came instantly.
Cassian
This was just part of the game, a fun part. Did you enjoy yourselves? Let off a little steam? It was meant to flood his system with endorphins and serotonin along with some—bonuses. One more dose tonight then he should sleep for several hours, enough for his body to heal before the final vials. A meeting time has been established. It’s best he rest now anyways.
Tempest
Meeting time? When? How long do we have?
Cassian
Five days. Mid-week next week. Two more vials will be sent. Have him take them exactly as instructed. Once administered, let him sleep until the meeting. He’ll do great. Don’t forget your end of the bargain.
Tempest
My end, your origin story, got it. You know, I’m sure if you just kill enough people you can find out yourself.
Cassian
Tried that, it seems some people are willing to take some secrets to their graves, but once you’re a part of the secret you have no choice but to protect it. The Vescovi family needs me, and they’ll also protect me no matter what. Once he’s in, he’ll find out why and you’ll win your little prize. Power, your safe secrets, and look, you even got a husband out of the deal. How benevolent of me.
I rolled my eyes.
Tempest
Benevolent indeed.
Cassian
Rest up. You’ll need it. He may need to satiate his appetite again.
Tempest
I’ll be sure to have the gun ready.
Cassian
For?
Tempest
He got hard. I shot him. What? Was that wrong?
Cassian
Stay away from my dick, psychopath. Poor bastard.
Tempest
If he plays his cards right I might flash him some nipple later. The night is young.
Cassian
I have never wanted to be single more in my life than at this moment. Talk soon. Oh, and get that, won’t you?
Huh? Get what?
Louis moaned behind me on the bed. “If this is dying, it’s a really arousing way to go—”
I spun around. “Sleep, you’re hurt, you idiot.”
I shoved him off me with a grunt. He flipped over onto a few pillows and moaned into them. “I can’t decide what hurts more, the bullet wound or my dick.”
“Be thankful I didn’t shoot you in the dick.”
“Thank you?” He offered then looked up at me, his hair all mussed around his face, his blue eyes locked onto mine. “Your bed smells good.”
I shook my head. “Sleep.”
“Hear me out—”
I shoved a pillow over his face. “You’re too weak to fight me and I’m not against smothering you with this pillow, husband.”
I lifted it off.
He sighed. “Dirty talk then—”
I shoved the pillow back on him and pulled away. “Ready to play nice?”
“Maybe,” he grumbled. “Those were some serious drugs.”
There was a knock on the door downstairs.
It was sharper.
That was probably the door I needed to open.
Louis, still half-feral and flushed, cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted toward the stairs. “We’re busy! Doing married things! Illegal in most states!”
I nearly tripped over my own feet rushing to the door and running downstairs. I wrenched it open—and froze.
Another sleek black box sat on the threshold.
Inside: a vial glowing faintly blue.
A single note lay folded beneath it.
This time, make him suffer through it using his own willpower. Don’t give in. He won’t be able to then, he won’t now. This is nothing compared to what’s coming in five days. More vials wait. He’ll have to be stronger than this. Make him burn. Make him yearn.
My stomach dropped.
I grabbed the vial and slammed the door shut.
When I turned, Louis was panting, half-laughing, eyes half-glazed over with something that definitely wasn’t normal. He was leaning at the top of the stairs. “I take it that wasn’t Santa.”