Children of Vice (Children of Vice 1)

“Oh...” I moaned at his hand.

He bit his lip and kissed the side of my cheek. I loved how he kissed wherever he wanted over and over again. “Baby, I’m begging you…calm down until after we are done for the day. I’ll fuck you first and make love to you second, but I need to work, so please stop moaning, and for the love of all that is holy, stop screwing me with your eyes.”

He always blamed it on me. “You’re the one who keeps coming back.”

“I’m weak for you. What can I say?” He winked, throwing the wipe into the small trash can in the corner.

I was weak for him too. Much weaker than I thought. This time when he backed away I was able to focus enough to strip down and get dressed up again. Putting on the jacket, I grinned, loving the way it fit, especially the jeans.

“Beautiful,” Ethan said to me, already dressed and putting his second gun back around his ankle, standing far hotter in his outfit than me. He’d gone with dark blues and blacks, even with combat boots.

“Ditch the suit for this as often as you can,” I said, pressing my hand on his V-neck shirt.

“Nothing is better than a three-piece suit,” he reminded me, taking my hand again before opening the door.

“Our clothes—”

“Leave it,” he replied, leading me to the front counter where three girls, all of whom were blushing, well, two were blushing, one of them smiling as if she’d been the one he’d fucked, stood.

“For the clothes,” Ethan said, placing a couple bills on the table, and then added more. “And the noise.”

“Babe.” I pulled him toward me and the door when I could see the stars forming in their eyes. “Let’s go.”

“Thanks for shopping. Come again!” the one who smiled shouted as we got to the car. Ethan glanced back at her and winked before getting into the passenger side.

After changing, and fucking, it finally felt like I could breathe easy again.

“Where are we going next?”

“A block party. Apparently, you already know where.” He yawned, reclining in the seat. “I’m looking forward to meeting your cousins, much more now.”

Was he out of his mind? “You want to go—”

“Shh…” He dared to cut me off, eyes still closed. “I’m preparing to be dramatic.”

“Fine, trust the girl who was locked up for a DUI and has a suspended license to drive herself to a party. Hopefully, it doesn’t rain.”

“I will,” he said, and I was sure he drifted off.

I felt a little spoiled, but I really wished he hadn’t sent his guys off. I wanted them to drive so I could just lie on top of him.

I was becoming that obsessed.

I tried to keep my road rage in check as I drove toward my old neighborhood. Luckily nothing ever really changed around this side of town. The closer we got, the more I felt my heart thumping. It happened too fast. One minute I was trying to prepare myself, the next I was pulling to a slow stop at the end of the street. The neighborhood was full with food, beer, and the Irish, all of them walking up and down the street between rows of townhouses, to the yellow two-story house at the end of the block.

“Welcome home,” I whispered to myself, holding on to the steering wheel tightly.

“Don’t think of it as home,” Ethan whispered, still with his eyes closed.

“Just because I married you doesn’t mean I’m just going to throw—”

“A home is where you’re always welcome. It’s where you don’t have to whisper to yourself ‘welcome home’ because you’re worried no one else will. It’s where you come back and they throw the block party for you, not invite you to one already happening,” he said, surgically cutting out what was left of my heart.

“Thanks,” I muttered, slowly driving down the lane toward the house.

Sitting up, he checked the watch on his wrist. “Don’t thank me until I make you feel at home here.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant and he didn’t bother explaining. Once I parked, his eyes were cold again.