Lethal Vows by Carrington-Russell Kia & Smith TL

Author:Carrington-Russell, Kia & Smith, TL [Carrington-Russell, Kia & Smith, TL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It’s late when the door opens. I’m curled up on the couch, watching Netflix, and half asleep. I don’t have work tomorrow, so I tend to dull my brain and turn it off. And the way I do that is by bingeing something on the television.

I immediately catch the scent of food, and it smells amazing. I look at Crue entering the room with a bag in his hand. He saunters to the coffee table, places the food down, and then pulls the table closer to the couch before sitting next to me.

“You can’t keep letting yourself into my place,” I tell him.

“I can and I will,” he states. Then he turns to me. “Are you planning to have more visitors?”

“No, but if I did—”

“I’ll deadbolt the door the next time I tie you to the bed,” he says casually as he takes the food out of the bag.

“What’s this? And who said there will be a next time?”

“My mother made it for you.” He pulls out two containers.

“Your mother?” I ask incredulously.

“Yes. She’s here in New York and will return to Italy with Angel and Dominic.” He pauses. “And she wants to meet you.”

“I don’t want to meet your mother.” I scoff.

“Why not?” he asks, handing me a container full of pasta. “No meat,” he adds.

I look him in the eye and say, “Because we are people who like to fuck. There is nothing more to it.”

“If you say so.” He winks and digs into his own pasta. I grab the fork he stuck into mine and take a bite. It’s really good. “She’s an amazing cook,” Crue says.

“She is,” I agree. It makes me miss home, just a little. I haven’t been back since I was a teenager because my life has been too busy. But I plan to go back. Hopefully, one day soon. “Why are you really here?” I ask.

“Because you are.” His answer is simple and seems genuine. I focus on the television, but I don’t even know what’s happening anymore because he’s implanted in my brain. And he’s stuck—he won’t leave, literally and figuratively.

I eat the bowl of pasta, and when I’m done, he takes it from me, places it on the coffee table, kicks off his shoes, pulls my legs over his, and then covers us with the blanket. He laughs at something on the television, and I stare at the fine lines around his mouth. He really is a perfectly made human. If I had met him as a normal person—you know, without him killing my boss and all—and he asked me out on a date, I would have thought he was talking to someone else. That’s how goddammed handsome he is. But not handsome in a clean, pretty-boy way. I can see the rough hands. I have felt them when he touches me. He has these lips that you just want to kiss and never stop. I honestly think I could never tire of kissing this man.

All of that does not equate to me wanting to marry him, though.

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