I breathe heavily. “You?”
“Never better. Bailey?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” I tell him gently, turning my head to the side so I can kiss his lips. “Always.”
“Come have a shower with me?” he asks, scooting off the bed with me still in his arms.
As if he doesn’t want to part from me.
He carries me to the shower, only putting me down to turn on the water. When it’s warm, he opens the door wide for me to enter first. I let the water run down my back as he joins me, kissing me deeply and pressing my back against the cold tiles. His fingers trail down my stomach, and I part my thighs as he finds my core. One finger parts my folds and slides inside me gently, the same time his other hand softly clasps my throat.
“I want more,” I tell him, so he slides another finger, and his hold on my throat tightens just a tiny bit. I make a sound of pleasure in my throat, and as he starts to play with my clit I find myself getting hungrier and greedier.
“Do you like my hand on your throat?” he asks, licking my earlobe.
I nod, my eyes boring into his, his heavy-lidded look making me want to jump on him and demand for him to fuck me hard.
I did like his hand there; in fact, I found myself wanting him to squeeze tighter.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He kisses me lazily, then in a quick movement lifts me in his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist. He slides into me, and I moan into his neck. So good. He pulls my head back with his hand in my hair, so he can kiss me again. He thrusts into me, over and over again until I’m screaming his name. Then, worn out, we dry off and get into bed. I fall asleep wrapped in his arms.
Now this is living.
THIRTY-ONE
YOU and Rake need a room,” Anna states, pursing her lips together. “You’re so . . .” She looks to Lana. “What’s the word for what they are, author?”
“In love?” Lana supplies, with a raised brow. “You know, the honeymoon stage. The can’t-keep-our-hands-off-each-other, life-is-wonderful, how-did-I-get-so-lucky, all-I-need-to-breathe-is-you stage?”
“That,” Anna says wryly, pointing at me. “That and more. I think a ladies’ night is in order.”
“Are you allowed out again after the Talon shenanigans?” I ask, trying to hide my amusement.
“No man controls me,” Anna says, puffing out her chest. “But yeah, I’ve been forgiven for the ordeal. I had lunch with Talon yesterday actually. He kept saying he was sorry and he shouldn’t have persuaded us to enter his domain.”
“Is that why he took Arrow’s hits without retaliating?” I ask, trying to figure out the man’s motives.
“I think so,” Anna says, drinking from her bottled water. “Who knows what runs through his mind though. You know, besides everything that happened afterward, it was a pretty fun night.”
“It was. Did you tell Lana about Ranger?”
“You mean the sexiest villain to ever exist?” Lana says, laughing. “Yeah, I heard. Is it true his eyes are like hazel depths of heaven?”
“I so didn’t say that,” Anna says, nudging Lana with her shoulder. “More like hazel depths of sin.”
“He’s a beautiful man,” I agree, sighing at the memory. “Like, wow. It’s unfair for a man to be that good-looking.”
“And that evil,” Anna adds, scowling. “At least we beat him at beer pong. That will teach him.”
“I’m sure he’s crying in his bed over it as we speak,” Lana says, sarcasm filling her tone.
“Hey, he definitely didn’t like losing,” I agree, looking at Lana. “He was pissed. He’s a sore loser. Maybe he’s one of those competitive guys.” I pause. “Who also reads Shakespeare and shit.”
Lana puts down her phone. “What’s that all about?”
“Apparently he’s all into literature and books, and he’s smart as hell,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “According to Talon anyway. Looks and brains.”
“But his personality and the fact he likes to kidnap women in his spare time make him a total douche, I don’t care how much he looks like he belongs on the cover of one of Lana’s books,” Anna says passionately, her eyes narrowed to slits. “He needs to be taken down a notch.”
“So you like Slice more than Ranger then?” I joke, sharing an amused glance with Lana.
“Slice is my best friend compared to Ranger. The bastard,” she says, slamming her fist into her palm.
“Really? Should we invite him to ladies’ night?” I tease, dodging the pillow she throws at