Page 73 of Killer's Obsession
I nod against him. “Just tired. It was a good day, though.”
“Yeah, it was.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Pinky still hates me.”
I lift my head to look at him. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s just... it takes time, babe.”
He sighs heavily. “I fucked up. Bad.”
“You did,” I agree, because there’s no point in sugarcoating it. What he did was way over the line. “But you’re trying to make it right. That counts for something.”
“Does it, though?” He glances at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “If someone hurt you like that, would you forgive them?”
I consider his question carefully. “I think,” I say slowly, “that forgiveness is a journey, not a destination. She might never forget what happened, but that doesn’t mean she won’t forgive you eventually.”
His jaw clenches, and I know he’s replaying that night in his head again. The night he found out I was gone. The night he nearly killed Pinky for telling me the truth that he should have told me himself. There is no excuse for what he did. It was beyond extreme.
“I hope you’re right,” he finally says.
We pull into our driveway, the lights we left on welcoming us home. Killer kills the engine and turns to me, his cool blue eyes serious in the dim light from the dashboard.
“I love you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in this life.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. It still gets me every time he says those words.
“I love you too,” I whisper back, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.
We head inside, and I drop my purse on the entryway table with a sigh. “I need a shower. I smell like sweat and dust.”
Killer comes up behind me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist and pulling me back against his solid chest. I feel his growing hardness press against my butt as he bends down to nuzzle my neck.
“I’ll wash your back,” he murmurs against my skin, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine.
“Just my back?” I tease, leaning into him.
His low chuckle vibrates through me. “We’ll start there and see where things go.”
He takes my hand and leads me upstairs to our bedroom. In the bathroom, he turns on the shower, adjusting the temperature until steam begins to rise. Then he turns to me, his eyes darkening as he slowly starts to undress me.
“Arms up,” he instructs, and I comply, letting him pull my shirt over my head.
His fingers trail down my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he unbuttons my jeans and slides them down my legs. I step out of them, now standing in just my bra and panties.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, reaching behind me to unhook my bra. It falls away, and his eyes drop to my breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
My nipples harden under his gaze, and heat pools between my thighs. I love the way he looks at me—like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like he can’t believe I’m his.
His thumbs hook into the waistband of my panties, dragging them down until I’m standing completely naked before him.
“How did I get so lucky?” he asks, his voice rough with desire.
I shake my head, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “I’m the lucky one.”
He lets me undress him. The first things to go are his boots and jeans. No surprise that he’s been commando under them all day. Next thing to go is his shirt, his muscles flexing as I pull it off. My fingers trace the scar on his chest—the reminder of how close I came to losing him. It’s healed now, a puckered pink line where the bullet tore through him.
“Hey,” he says softly, tilting my chin up. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” I whisper.
He bends down and captures my lips in a deep, wet kiss that makes my toes curl. His hands grip my hips, and with his lips still on mine, he backs me into the shower. The warm water washes over me, and I moan at how good it feels.
