Micah was giving me the look, the one that said as clearly as if he'd spoken, fix this. He fell on his side, and I moved up on him, gun still held two-handed, because whether he was dead or whether he wasn't, I wasn't done. They both kissed me, soft, chaste, a mere touch of lips. I was the only one who saw the relief and surprise on Jean-Claude's face.
Still the man who had come closest to making me try for the picket fence, and the two-point-five kids. If you fuck everything that moves while under the sway of the ardeur, you're still blameless. I pushed my back tight into the tree, as if the solid wood could catch me, because I felt like I was falling. I looked up at the blond's face, Truth or Wicked, I didn't know which he was.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.