Page 26 of Jezebel's Liberation

Down girl! He’s off limits.

But Phantom’s not?

My mind’s at war with my body as he leans in.

“I think we need to settle something right now,” he says huskily as his face inches toward mine. “Soul already ordered me to tell him, and I kept your secrets. Granted, I don’t know everything, but don’t you think for one damn minute that I’m not loyal to you. I’ll always protect your secrets becauseyou. Are. Mine.”

I shake my head. “I’m not y?—”

Demon crashes his lips to mine, silencing my protest. His tongue invades my mouth as he attacks with sweet brutality. I realize what it is before I can even think to stop it.

This isn’t just one of those everyday kisses… It’s a claim.

I should push him away and demand he leave, but I can’t. I resist for about five seconds, and then I wrap my arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth. My nipples stiffen beneath the soft fabric of my cotton shirt. And just when I’m settling in for the ride, Demon breaks the kiss, leaving me panting.

He smirks. “You’re mine.”

Two days later…

“I’m fine.”

I stare at Jez for a long moment before nodding. We’ve adopted a routine over the last few days, which is oddly domestic, but she still fights me when it comes to helping her.

Stubborn woman.

“Shout if you need anything,” I tell her before walking out of her bedroom to leave her to shower.

It’s mid-morning, and almost time for me to call Soul to give him an update, but I refuse to do that without Jez by my side. It’s taking a lot for her to trust that I can be loyal to her, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize the hard-won peace we’ve found so far.

As I sit on the couch, I pull my cell from the pocket of my sweats. I open up the calendar app and scroll through the schedule for Stella and Saints productions, the recording studio Apple and I run. Of course, I’ve already discussed with her that I’ll be absent from the business for a while since I’m on protection detail, but that won’t stop me from staying in the loop.

Apple might be Malice’s old lady, but she was my best friend first. From the moment we met in a dark, dank alley, she quickly became one of the most important people in my life, and nothing has changed that.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I smile when I see the name that flashes on the screen.

“I was just thinking about you,” I say by way of greeting.

“How’re you doing?” Apple asks.

“She’s doing better. Still sore, but that?—”

“Jesus, you really don’t listen. I didn’t ask about Jez. I asked aboutyou.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly.

She laughs. “Bullshit, Mark. You’re forgetting I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”

I sigh, running my free hand through my unruly hair. “What do you want from me, Apple?”

“I want to know how you’re doing. I want to know that my best friend is okay.”

The problem with her question is that I have no fucking clue how to answer it. If I lie, she’ll see through it, but if I tell the truth, I risk exposing myself in a way I’m not sure I’m prepared for.

Before I’m forced to decide, a tone sounds in my ear letting me know I’ve got another incoming call.

“I’ve gotta go,” I tell her. “Call you later?”

“You better,” she huffs.

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