Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
“I love you.” Luna’s words rang in his head. They played over and over even as she dripped the chilled champagne on his eager dick. He’d stripped off his clothes, lightning-fast, because what sane man wouldn’t strip that quickly when a woman offered to lick champagne off his cock?
Uh, hell, yes. Hell, yes .
But this wasn’t just any woman. This was his Luna.
I love you.
She couldn’t mean the words, right? It was the high intensity of the situation. She was grateful to him because he’d saved her. Because he’d killed to protect her. Because he’d?—
She licked away drops of the champagne.
His hands flew out, then up, and slammed into the headboard. The whole bed jerked.
Her head lifted.
Princess, do not stop.
“You good?” Luna asked in her husky, breathless voice.
Good didn’t describe him. Hadn’t he tried to warn her about that very fact? Good had nothing to do with who he was. Or the life he’d led.
She poured a bit more champagne on him. Cold bubbly that she immediately bent to sample. Her warm tongue curled over the head of his bobbing cock. She sucked the tip inside. Pulled him in and moaned around him.
His heels dug into the bed.
He wanted to let go. To explode into her mouth.
I love you.
He’d never had a partner say those words. Not that sex with anyone else had ever come close to the intensity he had with Luna. Everything was different with her.
He was different with her.
I love you.
Hearing those three words from Luna had been almost painful. His chest had grown heavy and tight. His whole body had locked down in instant denial. You can’t love me. I’m not good enough for you to love.
Luna was wide smiles and innocence. She was adventure lists. She was songs on a sultry night.
She deserved to live as much as she could. To laugh as often as possible. To be with someone who didn’t know so much about death.
She licked her way down his dick.
Yeah, he stopped thinking.
I love you.
Her tongue skated along the side of his dick as she licked back up toward the head. Then she opened wide again. Pulled him in deep. Moaned around him once more.
I love you.
He moved in a blur. Had her on her back in two seconds. Pressed his fingers to her, in her, because Ronan had to make certain she was ready for him, and, oh, she was. Wet and hot and so tight. His Luna.
His hand grabbed for a condom. Luna would not leave him with his child in her.
A child. A child with Luna. A life with Luna.
His breath sawed in and out. In and out. He rolled on the condom. Drove into her. They both gasped. He was in so deep. She was so incredibly tight as she squeezed every inch of him. Nothing in the world felt as good as Luna.
A life with Luna.
He withdrew, only to thrust harder. Deeper. She arched up toward him eagerly. Met him with no hesitation. Pulled him closer.
He grabbed her legs. Threw them both over his shoulders so he could get inside her as deep as he could possibly go. He needed to be connected to Luna. To mark her. To bind them. When she was gone, hell, no, he never wanted her to forget him.
He didn’t want some other bastard trying to take his place in her world.
A life with Luna.
Her inner muscles clamped greedily around him. Held him in a fierce grip as she cried out his name. Her pleasure just pushed his forward. A chain reaction as Ronan’s climax flooded through him, and he pumped into her on a seemingly endless wave of release.
A life with Luna.
His teeth snapped together to hold back his roar.
A life with Luna was exactly what he wanted, and it was the one thing he would never have.
Uh, oh.
Luna knew she wasn’t curled up on a mattress. Mattresses were soft and cushiony. She was on top of something hard. Strong.
Her eyes cracked open. She became aware of a faint drumming. Steady. Powerful.
His heartbeat.
She was sprawled on top of Ronan.
Embarrassment flooded through her. She began to scamper away.
One powerful arm locked around her lower back. “Stay.” Sleepy. Rumbled. “I like you this way.”
She could see the trickles of light coming through their window. In the distance, she could hear the roar of the ocean. She’d missed the sunrise. She’d catch it tomorrow. Something she’d always wanted to do. Watch the sunrise from a beach.
Something else she’d always wanted to do?
Fall in love. And she had.
She snuggled back against him. One arm stayed around her lower back. The other was stretched out to the side, reaching toward her empty pillow. The arm that stretched toward the pillow was his left arm. He’d taken off his watch at some point, and the faint light fell onto his inner wrist. She could easily see the dark lines of the snake tattoo that marked him. “Did I ever thank you for saving me?”
“Which time?” A teasing growl.
All the times. “One day, I’m going to save you.”
His heartbeat pounded beneath her head. “Unnecessary. Just watch that sweet ass of yours. Keep yourself safe.”
Her eyes were still on the snake. “Thank you for saving me from the snake in the bayou. I never even saw it coming.”
“Most people don’t see danger until it’s too late.”
“But you’re not most people, are you? I feel like you might always see danger.” Almost like he never shut off or relaxed completely. She’d noticed that about him. The way he would survey every room they entered. The way his gaze would track to each face. During their long drive, they’d stopped at a diner for a quick meal. He’d taken the booth in the back so that he could see each person who walked through the door. Always alert. Always looking for trouble.
“Danger is always there, so, yeah, I see it.”
“How did you get the tattoo?”
“Initiation.”
Surprised, she turned her head and lifted up so she could see him.
“Ronan Walker needed a beginning,” he explained.
Talking about himself in the third person. But he’d told her from the start that Ronan Walker wasn’t his real name. Just another deception. I love him, and I don’t know his real name.
“I needed to infiltrate a gang. My first undercover mission. Make or break, you know.”
She shivered.
So he pulled the covers over them. But she hadn’t been shivering from the cold. “The tattoo was part of the initiation ritual?”
“Turned out, those pricks had a very unusual initiation routine.”
Did she want to know?
“To be fully included in their gang, you had to fucking shove your hand into a tub of snakes. A key waited beneath them. The key to your new life—and, by the way, a key to the motorcycle you got when you were fully initiated.”
Her mouth opened and a little squeak came out. “You’re…no. No. A tub of snakes? You had to fish through them for a key? But—but the snakes could kill you!”
Soft laughter. “I think that might have been the point. You had to prove you weren’t afraid of dying. That the gang meant more than your life. It was also one of those situations where you only thought you had a choice. If you didn’t put your arm elbow deep in the pile of writhing, hissing, fucking snakes, then you were going to get a bullet to the brain.”
She flopped to his side.
“I liked you where you were,” he grumbled.
She needed to see him better. This was a better angle. Fear had her practically vibrating. “So you were facing death one way or another?”
“Not all the snakes were venomous. A point the leader made of saying. We were being judged. If we weren’t worthy, we’d be taken out.”
“That’s…that’s insane.”
“Don’t worry, my handlers promised they had antivenom at the ready for me.”
Uh, yes, she worried. “How were they supposed to get it to you in time?”
“You don’t die right away from a snake bite. That’s just in the movies. A lot depends on the type of snake that bit you and where you were bitten. Best case, you have two to three days before organ failure and death set in. So I knew I had time on my side.”
That wasn’t time. That was horrific. She sucked in a deep breath and then shoved it out. “I feel like you might be sugarcoating here.”
“Even with a black mamba, it can take up to twenty minutes for a man to die.”
Her breath got stuck on the second long exhale. She choked, gasped, and managed, “You’re a snake expert?”
“Had to be. I knew what I’d be facing. Knowledge helped to increase my odds of survival.”
Her temples began to throb. “I know what will now be on my nightmare reel over and over again.” For eternity.
“I got treatment during the golden hour. I was fine.”
“What is a golden hour?” It actually sounded like he was a snake expert.
“The first hour after a bite.” His head rolled a bit on the pillow so he could see her better. “That’s when antivenom is most effective.”
Most effective, check. “Really good to know.” She was on his arm. The arm with the snake tattoo on his wrist. She squirmed and twisted and brought the arm in front of her. “You shoved your arm in a tub of snakes.”
“Honestly, it was more like a big, glass aquarium. They dumped all the snakes in and got them in a striking frenzy.”
OhmyGod. “And the tattoo?”
“After the bite, you were initiated. The tattoo proved who I was. The gang had a reputation. Just having the tattoo opened doors. Made a certain set of people trust me.”
“And then the hitman was born.”
He nodded against the pillow. “Born from a pile of twisting, hissing snakes.”
And he hates snakes. She sucked in a deep breath, then let it out. No choking this time. Bonus for her. “Have you saved them?”
His eyes narrowed.
“Your parents. A hit was placed on your parents, and now you go out, over and over again, and you save people who’ve had bounties put on their heads. Are you saving your parents, over and over? Trying to atone for something that wasn’t your fault?”
“It’s not about them.”
“No? It’s not exactly a typical job choice, Ronan. You saw firsthand how devastating a hit can be, and now, you stop hits. You couldn’t save your parents, but you’re saving other people.”
Silence. A little too long. Then, “Didn’t realize you were a shrink. Thought the analysis BS was Gray’s area of expertise.”
Now that was interesting. “Has Grayson told you the same thing?”
“I don’t have a fucking hero complex. I have a killing complex.”
“With you, they just might be one and the same.” She wet her lips. “Your parents’ deaths weren’t your fault. You were a kid, Ronan.”
“I killed the bastard, princess. If I’d gotten up faster, if I had heard him enter the house, I could have done more. Sooner.”
“Or maybe if you’d gotten up faster, you would be dead, too. Maybe you would be dead and all the people you’ve saved over the years—people like me—maybe we’d all be dead, as well.”
He blinked.
“Do me a big favor, would you, Ronan? Stop thinking you’re only about death. Try seeing you’re also about life.”