Convict (Sin City Salvation 2)

He cooked all my favorite dishes and asked Trouble to do a grocery run after which bowls of cotton candy ice cream started to appear. We were in our own little bubble, and I tried desperately not to think about how long it would be until it burst. I knew it was too good to last because even with the uncertainty hanging over my head like a dark cloud, I was perfectly blissed out.

Morning, noon, and night, Huck was inside me. He fucked me sweet, and he fucked me rough. He took me again and again, never tiring of me. The sex was my new favorite high, and I knew it was his too. We clawed at each other, even in our sleep, our bodies drawing nearer like magnets. It was intoxicating to be wanted so much by him. When he left me for even five minutes, I felt empty. I missed him. It was insanity, but it was the only thing that had ever made sense in my life. We were drunk and falling deeper and deeper into something I knew would mark my soul for eternity. It terrified me, yet I held onto it like my life depended on it.

For a minute, I allowed myself to pretend that this could be my life. That we could just exist on this compound and nothing else would ever matter again. But reality was slowly invading this sacred space, and soon we’d have to get back to the business of life.

There were conversations left unfinished. Messes left to clean. There was also the matter of me getting to the bottom of what happened back in Vegas. Huck wanted the truth, but I didn’t think I could bring myself to tell him about Joe or the video. At the end of the day, I was terrified he wouldn’t look at me the same. Maybe it was wrong, but I couldn’t bear the thought of his passion for me morphing into disgust when he finally understood what I was.

“You hungry?” Huck grazed his knuckles over my rib cage as he lay beside me, smoking a joint. It was getting late, and I was hungry, but I was also ready to eat at a real table.

“I could go for some food. Maybe in the kitchen tonight?”

He glanced over at me, the concern evident on his face. Instead of telling him I’d be fine, I let him think it through, something I’d come to realize he needed. This was a battle he had to fight within himself.

“Okay,” he said finally. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

He helped me from the bed and wrapped my robe around me before we made our way down the hall. I’d seen the aftermath of my attack, and my face was still littered with fading bruises and a few cuts, but at least the swelling had gone down. Huck never looked at me any differently. Even without makeup and my Frankenstein face, he still wanted me.

“You can relax on the couch while I cook,” he offered.

I nodded, and he helped me sit down even though it wasn’t necessary. My body felt just fine. It was my mind that needed the lobotomy. But I couldn’t complain as I watched him work around the kitchen with nothing more than a pair of jeans hanging from his hips. The man was one beautiful piece of art, and he truly had no idea.

“Mexican good?” he asked as he chopped some vegetables. “I was thinking fajitas.”

“Do I get tequila with that?” I asked, only half joking.

Ace arched a brow at me over his shoulder, then walked to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of blue tequila. Our eyes met, and I felt another piece of the wall I’d built around myself crumbling down as I nodded in his direction. We both knew where this would go, but neither one of us was backing down.

He poured me a splash of tequila in a shot glass to sip on, then went back to his cooking. Twenty minutes later, we sat at the table and ate in silence, our eyes drifting toward each other like love-sick teenagers. Being with him right now was easy. So much so that it almost felt panic-inducing. Nothing could ever be this easy.

He cleared the plates, and we moved to the couch with the bottle of tequila, two shot glasses, and a salt box. I knew what was coming, but I just didn’t know which of us would be the first to obliterate the line in the sand. Ace had warned me that we’d be having a conversation. And the time for that conversation was now.

He poured another splash of tequila into my glass and then reached for my hand. My insides turned to liquid fire as he sucked my thumb into his mouth and then dipped it into the salt.