Page 156 of Property of Stone
He grabbed her shoulders firmly and kept his head tipped down to hers. “You wanna hear it? Fine, gonna say it. Don’t want you to leave. Not ‘cause of Sunny, ‘cause of me. Want you here. Want you in my bed. Want you in my life. You’re fuckin’ mine, woman. No one else’s. That’s who you are. Mine.”
Her lips parted and a soft puff of airescaped.Holy shit.
As much as she wanted all of that, wanted to throw caution to the wind, she also had to face reality and be completely honest with him about her reservations. “Stone, I’m not sure if this is the best situation for Wren and I.”
“Only problem we had came from your motherfuckin’ ex.”
Maybe. But no relationship or situation was problem-free. Plus, they needed to consider the fact that Sheena wouldn’t be in prison forever.
They might be dealing with this same scenario all over again once she was free. “Are you also going to eighty-six Sheena when she gets out?” She’d never think of that culinary term in the same way again.
“If she’s a threat to me and mine, fuck yeah.”
She blinked. Could she really love someone who had no issue with killing someone?
“She leaves us the fuck alone and realizes Sunny’s better off with us, then no. You acted more like a mother to Sunny in the past few months than that bitch has been for the last ten years.”
If so, that was sad. “Sunny deserves a good start in life.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, his grip on her shoulders loosening a bit. “And you’ll help with that.”
“So does Wren.”
“Will do my best to give him that, too.”
She believed him. It didn’t take long for Wren to love Stone. She could argue it didn’t take long for her, either. “Tell me what this all means.”
“Means I want you to be my ol’ lady.”
Holy shit.
She was aware that being claimed by a King as an ol’ lady was as good as a proposal. They were similar to wives but without the legal paperwork.
Did he really want to spend the rest of his life with her?
Wait.Did she really want to spend the rest of her life with him?
Taryn stared at the man that, with zero guilt, “eighty-sixed” her ex-husband probably not even an hour ago.
The sexy one with long, messy hair.
The one covered in tattoos.
The one wearing a leather cut that told the world he was an outlaw and didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thought about it. Including law enforcement.
The one who didn’t even flinch when it came to snuffing out someone’s life.
The one who’d never be fake or pretentious. What she saw was what she’d get.
If she accepted him, she’d have to accept the good, the bad, and the ugly.
And be able to live with herself.
Could she do that?
Did she love him enough to accept all facets of his lifestyle?
An invisible two-by-four smacked her across the forehead.
