Page 130 of Hit Man
He scoops me up and settles down onto the sofa with me in his lap.
“Thank you, Aubrey.”
I grin at him. “For asking you to fuck me or as you say in Spanish, ‘to break the bed’?”
“That.” He kisses my forehead, my nose, my lips. “And for not giving up on me. Not letting me ruin what is the best thing to ever happen to me. For believing in us.”
Now I do cry, tears of joy.
“Because I have a feeling with you, no bed is safe.”
I wrap my arms around him and tug him in tight. Knowing that playing it safe with this sexy, passionate, complicated man isn’t part of my future. But I’ve known from the first night he snuck naked into my bed and I lost all reason and common sense. Life with Diego is going to be one wild surprise after another.
“How about we give this a try,mi vida?”
He stands, lifts me high, tosses me over his shoulder, and fireman-carries me into the bedroom.
“Dios mío,” I repeat his familiar words with a laugh. When I first met Diego, I believed he was about to become an architect in his own right—the architect of my destruction. And I was right, so, so right.
Little did I anticipate how much I needed to be destroyed. By him. By the wildest, naughtiest, most clever man I’ve ever met.
He tosses me onto the bed. And with a wickedly beautiful smile, he fucks me six ways to Sunday and back and destroys me once again.
Epilogue
Aubrey
My pulse races as I plug in the multicolored Christmas lights I’ve carefully hung from the exterior beams of Diego’s enormous cabin.
My homecoming gift to him.
I’ve spent days decorating. Hauling an enormous Douglas fir into the living room and positioning it in the enormous arched front window. From far down the small roadway spiraling up toward our home, you can see the blinking lights I’ve decorated it with. And now the window is picture-perfect with additional exterior lights.
Except there’s a loose bulb. They won’t go on.
With a sigh, I head back outside and begin testing each individual one. All it takes is one loose piece to keep the rest from functioning.
Twenty minutes later and I finally find the culprit. Instead of being loose, though, it’s missing all together.
I return to the kitchen and to the packet I left on the long farmer’s table.
I stop and frown.
The pack has disappeared.
I inhale sharply, and my eyes grow wide as I breathe in his scent, orange blossoms with a hint of spice.
My heart skips a beat.
“Diego?” I rush into the bedroom yet it’s just as I left it. The custom-designed, custom-reinforced king bed is neatly made. And there’s no sign of his bags anywhere.
I check the den next to the kitchen. Not a pen or piece of paper out of place.
Biting my lip, I wonder if it’s me. That our three-long-month separation has me missing him so much I’m inventing things.
I move across the living room. And pause, as I hear the rumble of water. The hot tub is on. I race over to the French doors leading out onto a massive deck that overlooks the red rocks of Sedona.
Without hesitation, I step outside. And I’m immediately swung high off my feet and tugged into a tight embrace.
