Chapter 62
SIXTY-TWO
No risk climaxing
LILA
I don’t like the term hero. It reminds me of comic books and superpowers.
Alternatively, savior sounds religious. So that’s out. Champion doesn’t hit any better. Too sporty. Given my athleticism, I’ll pass. And I refuse to be called the victor. We aren’t in District Thirteen.
With no other suitable options, I suppose you may continue referring to me by my given name.
Giggle.
Just joshin’ ya.
Let’s be real. At this point, I’m grateful nobody is calling me by an inmate number.
That said, I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit to getting a zing of pride each time I remember what a baddie I was. Kri would have been so proud.
The man formerly known as Jabali Campos is now a ghost. Not the fun type from Reed's condo.
Calamari won't be haunting anyone. Any spirit he had inside him bled out on the floor of his rec room.
There wasn't enough juice left in the tank to allow him any further contact with humanity. Not even in noncorporeal form.
As the expression goes, he effed around and found out. And my little boob razor found his jugular.
Poetic justice, if you ask me. After all, he died in the exact spot he’d have stood to gleefully watch all the life leave Kenzie's body.
Obviously, Reed would have saved me. No doy. I'm glad he didn't need to make that choice, though.
It’s been three days, and I still haven’t fully processed what happened at the STK compound. It was terrifying; the stuff of nightmares. I can’t imagine living through something more horrific. But it was also oddly exhilarating. It was a strange combination of feeling powerless and empowered.
I wasn’t the one with the gun, yet at times, I was in control of the situation.
Actually, that isn’t quite right. I still believe control is a myth. Rather than controlling the situation, I simply took charge of my reactions. In doing so, I found strength I never knew I had.
Go me, right?
Reed breezes into his living room, looking edible. Baby blue dress shirt, immaculately pressed and tucked into dark gray slacks. His necktie is a navy print, coordinating with his belt.
My mouth doesn’t water. It froths.
If I don’t get that blow job lesson tonight, I’m not sure I’ll survive. This man deserves to be savored. I’m just the gal for the job, and I’m beyond ready.
In fact, I painted my nails red for the occasion. Oddly, he hasn’t commented on them yet. Too anxious about our double date with Sawyer and his wife.
Reed nervously wipes his palms down his torso and tugs at his collar. “Is this okay?”
“For dinner? No. For me to strip off you? Absolutely.”
His frowny dimples pop into place as he flicks his gaze from me to his chest. “No?”
I rise from the couch and saunter to him. “Dimples, you look impeccable. Sexy and debonair.” I flutter my lashes and gently pull him to me by his tie. “But too stuffy. It’s a beachy restaurant. Just wear jeans like me.”
“I want to make a good impression.”
Fiddling with his tie, I get a tad lost in his mahogany irises. The gold flecks shimmer like a smattering of pixie dust, which I’ll never tell him because of how juvenile it sounds.
Sighing, I say, “You always make a good impression. And the clothes have nothing to do with it. Trust me. He’s gonna love you for the man you are. Not what you look like. Besides, he’s already met you.”
“Yeah, but this is different.”
I blink thrice at him, telegraphing my disagreement.
The skin at his temples creases. “You sure?”
I give him a coy smirk. “Aren’t you the one who told me I’m more than my body?”
“Point made.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll change.”
“Wear something motorcycle-friendly,” I challenge while drooling over his retreating backside.
He halts abruptly in the bedroom doorway, turning on his heel. His brows are arched so high his forehead is scrunched to half its normal height. “What?”
My eyes catch on his neck, where he's loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He’s killing me.
I shrug, nibbling my lip absentmindedly. “It’s a nice night for a bike ride.”
Reaching over his head, he braces his hands on the door trim and leans forward in a classic book boyfriend pose.
Yep, he’s trying to murder me. Death by horniness.
“Who are you? Where did this confidence come from? I love seeing this side of you.”
“As trite as it may sound, surviving that horrible ordeal taught me a lot about myself. I wasted too many years as a prisoner of fear, regret, and grief. Listening to what Kenzie did to me was the tipping point. For our entire BS friendship, I sacrificed the things that mattered to me and did anything she wanted. Why? Because I was scared to lose her. Look where that got me.”
Smile gone, Reed drifts toward the living room.
Out of nowhere, powerful emotions erupt out of me.
As if I’m purging them from my soul through my words.
“Between Kenzie’s constant put-downs, the way my parents treated me after Zara died, and my own guilt, it all went wrong in my head and heart.
I became convinced my life wasn’t worthy of happiness. That I wasn’t worthy.”
My confession halts his steps. He places his palm on his chest, as if my words echo his pain. “Oh, baby. Believe me. You are so damn worthy.”
“When my sister died, I stopped living. I felt broken. Irreparable and irredeemable. Broken people don’t think they deserve to experience a life of peace and wonder.
Of fun, whimsy, and love.” I blink away the brewing tears so I can get this out before I burst. “I should have honored Zara by living a life she’d have loved to witness.
My life list should fill ten journals, with more than birds.
I mean, with all the good things. It doesn’t even fill one.
Because all I did was exist in a fog of darkness.
I might have looked happy, but I was shattered to my core. ”
My hand clenches into a fist, and I shake my head. “No more. I choose to be whole. I didn’t die on that damn cliff. It’s time I start acting like it.”
His mouth parts for a quiet gasp before his sorrowful expression melts into one of reverence. A sliver of a grin traces his lips until it brightens his entire face.
“Bring on the dang bike. I’m ready.” I gesture with my stiff hands toward the window.
“For goodness sake, I was just looking outside, sans heart palpitations. A motorcycle is nothing by comparison. You said it’s your joy.
And I want to experience that with you. I want to experience everything with you. ”
His adoring smile turns heated. He eats up the carpet, dashing to me with purpose.
And the purpose is apparently kissing me stupid.
His arms reach for me ravenously, engulfing me in his warmth. Our bodies align, slamming together like magnets. And then his lips are on mine, claiming and commanding me.
My toes curl as his tongue greedily plunders my mouth. His cologne invades my senses, intoxicating me almost as much as the dizzying kiss. Tingles traverse my body, making their way to my lower region.
He breaks the kiss suddenly, then drags his mouth over the curve of my neck. “Can’t believe you just said all that. I swear you’re inside my damn head, reading my thoughts.”
I guide his face to mine with an upward graze of his chin. “You feel that way too?”
“Most of it, yeah. You weren’t the only one who was broken,” he admits, clasping my cheeks and burning his gaze into mine.
“Not anymore. I’m choosing love and happiness.
Same as you. I don’t want to be a shell of a man who’s trudging through life.
I want more. And I want it with you. No more darkness. For either of us.”
Every fiber of my being shimmers with love and warmth. I’ve never felt more seen and understood.
And loved.
We stare at each other with sappy smiles, nothing left unspoken. Two people, separate and distinct. But one heart, strong and true.
As he captures my lips, I surrender to him. Our kiss gradually blossoms from tender and loving to fiery desire.
“I want you so badly,” I confess when I break away for a breath.
“Same, cookie.” He goes to work on the sensitive spot at the base of my throat, making my core flood with lust. “We need to leave soon. How fast do you think I can make you come?”
I tilt my head back to give him better access, whimpering as he sucks my sensitive flesh between his lips. “I think you just did,” I joke.
If the way he’s worshipping my neck didn’t do it, the rich laugh that rumbles from his chest just might.
While licking and nipping a path up to my chin, he tugs at my waistband. “Take these pants off, cookie.”
“We’ll be late.”
“Worth it to make you scream my name.” He urges me backward gently, his brows dancing. “Besides, Sawyer said they’re never on time since becoming parents. Apparently, their twins have a dramatic side.”
He reverses me all the way to the wall, cushioning my head with his splayed hand. Flush against me, he drives his hips forward to reveal how hard he is. Wowsers.
I peek into the kitchen to check the time on the oven and attempt mental math despite the swirling hormones. “We have about twenty minutes until we should leave. Thirty-ish if we’re going for fashionably late.”
“I can make that work.”
Inspiration hits me, and I sink to my knees. My hands fly to his belt buckle. “So can I.”
His hands land on both sides of my head. “What are you doing?”
I stop fumbling with his fly long enough to wiggle my fingernails at him. “We can each check a fantasy off our lust lists before we leave.”
“Fuuuck,” he rasps. “The red polish.”
As soon as I free his engorged cock, my breath hitches with a hint of fear. For as many times as I’ve seen this magnificent body part, I’ve never been this close. It’s two inches away, directly in my eyeline.
It’s massive. Thick, hard, and girthy.
Mindlessly, I wobble my jaw to loosen it up. We’re gonna need to test laws of physics here. Or unscrew my jaw and take it off the hinges.
Embracing my new mantra, bring it on.