This Year's Black (Killer Style 2)

“I know.” She turned on her side and trailed her fingers across his muscular chest.

“I still want to say it.” He captured her face between his palms, gentle but insistent. “I love you.”

Her heart did that sideways shuffle-hop thing. “I love you, too. So fucking much.”

His gaze fell to her left hand. “When we get home I’m going to—”

She covered his mouth with hers. There’d be plenty of time for promises later. Right now, they were sky-bound and he wasn’t going anywhere.

She still had hours of letting him convince her.