Page 116 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
He starts to move, and it’s blessed and raw, natural and free and perfect. We’re male and female, just as he asked, but we’re more than that, two twisted souls intertwining into one imperfect thing. Messy and wet and musky, even beneath the wash of rainwater.
Thumber rumbles again, lightning strikes, but we ignore it all, trapped in each other.
My hips lift up, undulating against his, so that each one of his thrusts is met with one of mine. He makes sure to knead and tease my breasts, too, with his hand and his mouth, alternating between the two so that he doesn’t leave my lips neglected for too long.
When we climax, we climax together in near perfect unison, one of those bullshit romance novel moments that are so rare in real life. Rare, but not impossible, like a jewel plucked from the rocky earth, a single perfect thing in a casing of endless rock.
“My old lady,” Sin whispers, still shuddering, still holding me against him as he thrusts a few more times and fills me with the heat of his orgasm. “My old lady, my woman, my Gidge.”
He gets my name right, and I sigh in bliss, closing my eyes as I wrap my arms around him and we stay like that for a little while, just me and Colton and the storm.
Together like this, I can weather it; I can weather anything.
It takes me almost an entire week, but I’m finally able to get ahold of Grey.
“You’re still in one piece,” I say, a bit of awe and wonder in my voice. After what happened with Ms. Briggs, I wasn’t sure that my friend really would live to see another day. His father suspects him, that much I know for sure. Smart as he is, I’m sure he knows it, too.
“For now,” he agrees, drawing his finger in a circle around the rim of the whiskey tumbler that’s resting on the table in front of his phone. “Thanks to you.”
I decide not to tell him it was a fluke, that’s Cat’s obstinance saved his life.
“How are things?” I ask, but this isn’t just friendly banter between buddies. The question is as loaded as they come.
“I have an opportunity for you,” he says, frowning hard as he continues to play with his glass. His gray eyes are focused on the amber liquid inside instead of on my face. I’m situated on Crown’s bed, a cardboard box open beside me as I try to sort through some of my things. I’m committed to this, to making this house my home. To settling in here. So I’m unboxing my stuff and putting bits and pieces of myself all over the place.
The wooden husky carving that Reba gave me goes on top of Sin’s dresser; my books fit nicely on the shelves in this room, Crown’s room. Queenie’s cookbook is in the nightstand drawer beside Beast’s bed, while my small collection of sex toys are safely tucked into Grainger’s end table.
“An opportunity?” I query back, drawing out random items and deciding where I might want to put them. I don’t have much. I never did. Even when Cat started making money, and Posey went crazy with the shopping, I didn’t buy myself much. After she died, I didn’t buy anything at all. So here I am, starting over with relatively few material items. “What sort of opportunity?”
“Consider yourself double-blessed: both my mother and my father’s most loyal men—the ones you’ve been after for so long—will be at the casino this weekend.” Grey picks up his drink, sighs heavily, and then downs it all in one, single swallow.
“The casino?” I echo, my stomach twisting into an impossible knot. The casino. It’s like the catalyst for this entire nightmare, the first domino that fell, sending all the others crashing to the floor. It was in the casino that my brother found his mafia contact, in the casino where Kian met Queenie, the casino that saved me from shooting Grey in the face that day inside Uncle Benny’s cabin. “Triangle Lake Resort.”
“That’s the one,” Grey says, and I wonder if, all along, this is what it was meant to come down to. The fucking casino. “It’s technically neutral territory. Mostly, it’s the general public that walks in and out of those doors save for a few select plants that bring cash into the place.” He sets his glass down and leans back in his chair. “If you bring a small team in, you can take care of business quietly enough to sneak back out.”
“You understand that I want to kill your mother, don’t you?” I clarify, chucking aside a small stuffed toy from my childhood that I have literally no memory of. The words I told Cat, they weren’t just sharp weapons aimed at his heart—if he even has one—it was the bald-faced truth. “I don’t like my parents either. Most days, I’ve wished for one or the other to die. But if you told me right now that you were planning to kill Cat, I wouldn’t be sitting here calmly and working out a plan to help you.”
