Page 84 of Sinful Promise
And hell, it’s Sunday, and we’re supposed to have the day off.
“I mean, I guess she was feeling left out.” Minka crosses the threshold of our apartment and peels her hoodie up so her stomach shows and she risks slamming against the counter in the time it takes for her to clear her vision.
But she turns back in my direction as I tug the keys from the lock and close the door.
“She’s pregnant by this dude.” She rolls the hoodie in her arms, then tosses it to the floor where she keeps her briefcase. “It’s a long-term relationship. Considering the extended exposure to arsenic. He’s married and has a family already, but maybe he’s promising to give it all up and be with the side chick.”
“So why poison him?” I guess I already know the answers, but I cross the kitchen and trace my fingers across the small of her back as I pass. Because fuck, she’s everything I want. Investigating Jason’s death only highlights the shit he did to screw over his own life. “If she wants him, why poison him?”
“Because he wouldn’t leave Whitney?” Minka wanders to the back of the couch and peeks over in search of Micah, but when she straightens again with a frown, I follow and find the couch empty. Blankets folded on the end. The television remote neatly set on top.
Turning to me, she adds, “Maybe he made a promise to leave Whitney and be with Molly, but he was stalling. Or perhaps he was trying to break it off with her.”
“He can’t’ve been trying too hard. She’s pregnant now.”
“A tried-and-true method of trapping a guy.” Grinning, she pushes up to her toes and presses a kiss to my jaw. “We’re home alone, by the way.” Her breasts warm my chest, and her arms wrap over my shoulders. “For the first time in days, we’re here alone. And though part of me is concerned where Micah could be…”
“You wanna fuck first?” Chuckling, I cup her ass in my hands and tug her up until her legs wrap around my hips. Then I circle the couch and sit down until she’s on her knees and her core sizzles against my cock. “So you reckon she wanted him so bad, she made a baby with him?”
“Countless have done it before her.” We’re kinda special, I think, in that we can talk work and still send each other to the brink of insanity. Without conscious effort, my fingers trail along her skin, and her lips work magic on my neck. “Maybe she thought she’d get more commitment with a baby on the way.”
“So… she hits him with her car?”
Snickering, she buries her lips against the top of my shoulder and bites hard enough to make my blood sing. “I can’t say I haven’t been tempted. But maybe the baby was the last straw for her.”
She pulls back and tugs my shirt up so the fabric catches my jaw. Tossing it to the couch, her eyes drop instantly to the chain I wear around my neck. To the wedding bands we both made promises with.
“Maybe she thought that’s how she’d get the commitment.” Slowly, she brings her eyes up to mine. “But he still wasn’t playing ball. Or worse, maybe he was refusing paternity.” Folding her back, she slides her tongue along my chest until I groan and my hips jut high in search of purchase.
“Fuck.” I slip my fingers through her hair and make messier the bun she tied this morning. Long strands of mahogany hang wild, and her teeth on my flesh make it so I forget everything else in the world. Micah. Whitney. Even Fletch, who answered his call back at the Pattersons’, and glared like whoever called him had killed his mother. “Minka.”
“So he tells her to fuck off.” She breathes against my skin. Her hips rolling, and her core dragging over my cock. “He tells her he’s out, because he never signed up for a kid. Maybe he said some particularly unkind things. Could’ve called her a whore and said the baby was someone else’s, or maybe he just said no. Regardless, he wasn’t having it.”
“So she snaps.” I throw Minka off my lap until she lands on the couch with a thud. Then I crawl over her body and push her shirt up to reveal her stomach. The ridged muscle, and the long bruise banding her torso where I grabbed her inside Fentone’s safehouse. She’s so delicate, but fuck, so strong too. “She just runs the dude down and figures, if she can’t have him, no one can?”
“It’s not that wild of a theory.” Reaching between us, she pushes the cup of her bra down to reveal perfect rosy nipples that have the power to make a man drool. Or at least, me. They have the power to make me do whatever the fuck she wants.
Running her fingers through the hair at the back of my head, she pulls me down until my lips circle her taut nipple, and her legs simply flop wide open for me. “Jesus, Archer.”
“Promise you’ll never run me over with a car?”
She barks out a laugh that makes us both rock. “I promise. Promise you won’t knock up some other bitch and make a home with her?”
“I promise.” I release her nipple and trail my lips over her torso and down to her hip bone. Unsnapping her jeans, I tear the zipper down and allow my lips to create a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “I can’t see anyone else but you, Mayet.”
I don’t drag her pants down completely, because we’re still in a communal space, and it’s become grossly apparent to me that privacy isn’t something we get unless we’re in the bedroom.
And even then, shit is iffy.
“I don’t notice anyone but you.” I slide my tongue into her panties, and groan when she throws her head back. “I don’t want anyone butyou.” Panting, I push up to one hand, and use the other to slide into her underwear, finding her wet and warm. Wanting… me. Only me. “Fuck, Minka. But you have to know by now there’s nothing I won’t do for you.”
“Like shoot Laramie Fentone in the fucking head?” Fletch’s voice is like a gunshot in the night. Then the front door slams shut so loud, I shoot up and bruise my wife’s delicate skin all over again.
I shove to my feet and toss Micah’s blanket at her chest, though she’s hidden by the couch. Then I look to Fletch and find his eyes a dangerous mixture of rage and betrayal.
“F-Fletch…” I lift my hands when he takes a step forward. And,shame on me, I imagine for just a second, lowering them and taking out my gun. Fixing a problem. Ending a threat. “Hang on.”
“Get dressed, Vigilante.” He stays in the center of the kitchen as Minka hurriedly fixes her bra and pats her shirt down.
