Exhale.
Should I do it?
Yes! Hell to the yes! Trust me, Grey. You want to spend the night with your hot, inked husband. What’s wrong with that? You’re married now. One flesh and all that. You belong to him. And he belongs to you. Climb that horse and ride on, cowgirl.
Sloane’s voice is like that angel on my shoulder. The one that pushes you to do all the wrong things.
So then, maybe not an angel.
Not the good kind at least.
Zane inches back and looks at me, gaze languidly moving from my eyes to my lips to my chest that pumps with each breath. His stare lingers a little too long on my chest and blazing heat beats a path beneath the skirt of my wedding dress.
He’s not bothering to hide his thirst for me—not that I needed more proof than the one that had been pressed against me a moment ago—but now I know he truly thinks he has me cornered.
He’s wrong.
“As soon as I’ve taken everything I need to take from you, I’m filing for divorce.”
“You can try.” He nods as if it doesn’t bother him.
“Fine.”
His gaze meets mine. A scary kind of blue. Untainted by colors like green and gold. Just a piece of pure sky trapped behind a cursed skull.
“But only because I offered you one night anyway,” I mutter the words like I’m talking myself into doing an unwanted chore.
His eyes trail to the side and then narrow as if he’d found the memory. It was the day of my final meeting with The Kings regarding The Grateful Project. The day the boys hinted that they could no longer help me hunt down Sloane’s murderer.
Zane followed me to the door and insisted on continuing the investigation with me. Rather than bestow a kiss as a thank you, I offered myself. For both our sakes. One last night to get it out of our system and move on.
“Make the appointment at the prison. Tonight. Once I’m sure about the meeting, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”
“That’s a dangerous promise.” He doesn’t invade my space again and yet, that sentence scrapes huskily out of his throat and almost pushes me back into the wall.
The fire in my blood sparks with electricity. My heart falters, struggling to stay even-keeled despite the warring feelings inside it.
“Tomorrow, I want Slavno.”
“Keep talking about another man and I’ll get jealous, tiger.”
“Stop screwing around. I told you I wouldn’t have done this if he wasn’t on the table.”
Footsteps pound in the once empty hallway. It sounds intentionally loud, like whoever’s coming wants us to know of their approach.
“Um… are you decent?” Cadence yells.
“Unfortunately,” Zane calls.
“Rick just texted. He’s done with Grey’s mom. She’s heading back here now.”
Zane’s playful little smile shifts into his unbothered smirk, signaling that he’s hiding his true thoughts.
I blink, shocked at my own interpretation. I’m starting to recognize his smiles.When did we get that close?
“Change and meet me in the parking lot,” Zane says.
“What? Why?”