Page 143 of Ruthless Creatures
“How long?”
I hesitate, but have to tell her the truth. “Probably a month.”
She’s silent.
Then she whispers, “My birthday’s February twentieth.”
“I know.”
“That’s about a month from now. So maybe…?”
“Yes. I promise.”
Some of the tension goes out of her body. In a small voice, she says, “Okay.”
It’s another stake through my heart, only this time it’s stabbing me there over and over.
We lie quietly together. Our breathing falls in sync. Outside, a bird starts to sing a sweet, sad song of parting.
Christ. I’m losing my mind.
The ache inside my chest expands, sending a lump up into my throat.
After a long time, she murmurs, “I’ve been meaning to askyou—what happened with Chris? I haven’t seen him drive by in weeks.”
“I beheaded a horse and left it in his bed while he was sleeping.”
She jerks her head up and stares down at me with wide, horrified eyes.
“That was a joke, Natalie.”
She exhales. “Oh god. Jesus. Don’t do that to me!”
I feel a little insulted. “I’m a lot of bad things, but a man who cuts off the heads of innocent farm animals isn’t one of them.”
She quirks her lips and says, “Don’t get all snippy, gangster. That’s a very famous scene from a very famous mafia movie, and you have a tendency toward dramatic gestures. It’s not like it’s out of the realm of possibility.”
“I don’t have a tendency toward dramatic gestures.”
“Oh, really? What would you call a ten-million-dollar trust fund? Ordinary?”
Lifting an eyebrow, I threaten softly, “Someone’s asking for a spanking.”
My expression makes her bite her lip.
I want to bite it, too.
I roll us over, press her down into the mattress, and take her mouth.
It’s a harder kiss than before. She’s as urgent as I am, kissing me back with the same desperation, digging her fingernails into my back.
I want so badly to shove my cock into her wet heat and fuck her one last time before I go, but it won’t help.
There’s no helping this awful, gnawing need.
No helping it, and no escaping it, either.
“So what was it?”
