Page 56 of Wild Devil

“Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “We’ll do this together?—”

Her eyes widen and I know I made the right choice. Even if I hate the prospect of putting her in danger, I hate the thought of disappointing her more.

“But,” I add. “I’m not letting you out of my fucking sight.”

She interprets that condition with a curt nod, but some of the tension leaves her body. Damn. It’s like we both can breathe again. I take her hand in mine again, pulling her close. This time, she doesn’t pull away. It’s only when I feel her start to shiver in the cool night air that I remember we’re standing outside, in the middle of nowhere.

“We still have things we need to discuss,” I tell her, leading her outside.

I pull her down the path until the trees shield us from view but leave a clear line of sight to the cabin. Then I turn to face her, and grab her by the waist.

“There’s something important we need to square away before we talk about any other shit dealing with your father.”

“What?”

“I’m going to need you to repeat that last part again,” I say. “Before we were interrupted?”

Her eyelids lower as she sucks in a tiny, startled breath. Then something comes over her, empowering her to tilt her head back to meet my gaze head-on, without an ounce of fear.

“I love you,” she says.

“That’s damn right. Say it again.”

“I love?—”

My lips seal over hers, and I inhale the confession like it’s a fucking lifeline, and I’ve been drowning up until this point. All my life, I never realized the power of those three fucking words. How they can make a man feel when uttered in a broken whisper by a woman who sets his soul on fire.

Here, in the middle of nowhere, shrouded by trees, I feel like the richest man on the planet, unable to be knocked down by anyone else.

“Again,” I tell her, when I finally let us both come up for air. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I love you.” Her words end with a moan as I press her back against the nearest tree. “Daze, Keaton…”

I sink to my knees, feeling like I’m at an altar, ready to confess my sins, and an angel is there to greet me, all I have to do is bare my soul.

And I’ll gladly give her everything.

My lips find her thigh as I peel down her borrowed sweats and wrench up the oversized shirt. Each glimpse of her skin feels like the very first time all over again. I knew back then that there was more to what had sparked between us than a grimy one-night stand in my old man’s gym. I knew from the second I saw her on the bridge, her face upturned to the sky, ready to submit to whatever fate had in store for her, that this woman would grab me by the balls, and I’d have no say in it.

“I love you,” I hear her breathe out the second I let my lips come into contact with the sweet strip of flesh in between her thighs.

“I love you,” I say, letting my voice easily overpower hers. It feels important for me to say it, over and over so that she can’t doubt me. Not for a damn second.

I love her even if I don’t understand the emotion beyond what I feel for Sam and my sister. I need her in a way that feels integral to my very being.

“Frey Heywood, I love you, even if you come to hate me. I always will.”

No matter what we’ll both have to go through to take her father down, I feel in the pit of my soul that I won’t hesitate when it comes to protecting her.

No matter what has to be done in the end.

Her hand tugs impatiently at my hair, cutting off my internal shitty monologue. Like a servant at her disposal, I turn my attention to showing her the way I feel physically. I make her come so many times her knees are shaking by the time I finally pull back.

Then I strip her down to nothing and watch her body come alive, too far gone to give a damn for modesty. This is the way she’s meant to be viewed. In utter confidence, by the only man she deems worthy of having her.

The power in that isn’t lost on me. I know what it means for her to have chosen me, even if she thought I was a worthless punk. She saw through that in an instant. Somehow, she still seems to see right through me, to the person I didn’t even know existed underneath.

He’s a strange motherfucker, this new Daze Keaton. Someone I doubt I could see myself ever being, just a year ago. A man who puts his heart above all else.

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