Page 41 of His Lair
“You don’t sleep with anyone but me, babe,” I correct her.
“Well, it would be hard to bring another man home when you’re constantly breaking into my apartment. I don’t need that kind of awkwardness in my life.” She laughs.
“Awkwardness? I’d fucking kill him,” I tell her. Because I fucking would, without hesitation.
“Don’t kill people over me, Sammie,” she says, staring at my chest as she continues to unbutton my shirt.
“I can’t promise you that,” I admit. She needs to know who I am. “You’re not stupid, Lailani. I know you’ve heard the rumors. About who we are.” Holding her face in my hands, I make her eyes meet mine.
“I’ve heard,” she whispers.
“I will never hurt you. I can promise you that,” I tell her. “But if anyone fucks with what’s mine, all bets are off, babe. I will fucking kill them.”
“When did I become yours?” she asks me.
“The day I saw you.” I smile up at her.
“Does that mean you’re mine?”
“It does.” Fuck, Iamhers. I haven’t thought about being with anyone but her. I don’t want to be with anyone but her. I’m completely gone for this woman, and she has no idea the power she has in her hands.
“So, I can kill for you too then,” she says. “If someone hurts you.”
“You’re not a killer. We’ve discussed this already.” I pull her down, capturing her mouth before she can argue with me.
This girl is so fucking pure, so fucking innocent. I won’t let her taint her perfect soul for me.
Chapter Eighteen
When I get to Carlo’s apartment, Jazzy is asleep and I’m slightly disappointed. I’m not going to have much to do. I really should have fought Emmanuel harder on this whole babysitting thing. I don’t know shit about kids. I doknow that as far askidsgo, Jazzy is a great one. I’ve spent a bit of time with her over the last few weeks and have grown really fond of her.
It takes about thirty minutes of sitting on the sofa while scrolling on my phone before I hear her scream. I have the same reaction every time. I run into her room and scan for threats. Tonight, I find Jazzy sitting up in bed, tears falling down her cheeks.
“Oh, honey, it’s okay. I’m right here.” I sit on her bed and scoop her up into my arms. “Shh, it’s going to be okay.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s okay.” I rub a hand up and down her back. It’s the same whenever I babysit. She has nightmares. She won’t ever tell me about them, though.
“I have an idea,” I hum. “Ice cream andSnow White?” This kid loves anything and everything Disney princesses.
“Am I allowed to have ice cream? It’s really late,” she asks me.
“Hasn’t anyone told you?”
“Told me what?” she says.
“You’re a princess, Jazzy. You can have whatever you want.” I smile, and her whole face lights up too.
“Okay. Do you think Carlo will be home soon?”
She always asks when her dad is going to come back. I think she has a fear that he’s going to leave her like her mother did. I don’t know what to say to reassure her. Instead, I try to keep things light and fun. “I think he will be. Come on, let’s get that ice cream.”
Jazzy runs into the kitchen, beating me there. Where she gets this energy from, I have no idea.
“What flavor?” I ask her.
“Mmm, strawberry,” she says after opening the freezer and inspecting the contents.
