Perfect Rage (Unyielding 3)

Then she did and her gaze darted to me. “My numbers?”

I nodded.

“But you had this tattoo before. I saw it the first night after you came to Avalanche.”

“I did. I had the tattoo done when I was on the drug, Alina. I didn’t know what the hell the numbers meant at the time, I didn’t care either. But I did it after I fucked you in Colombia. The numbers kept repeating in my head so I tattooed them into the design.”

“You never forgot.”

My hands resting on her hips squeezed. “Guess I always had a piece of you with me. Now, are you going to answer question twenty?”

“This may take some time. I don’t want to rush my answer,” she teased while wiggling her sweet ass on my cock.

I groaned. “Answer me so I can fuck you again as my soon-to-be wife.”

She bit her lip then slowly smiled. “Yes, Connor O’Neill. My answer is yes.”Three years later“KAI!” LONDON YELLED. “You suck.”

I burst out laughing, lowering my camera. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe you just said that.”

Kai’s eyes darted to his wife from across the barnyard and he scowled. Definitely not happy. Probably more because he was pissed that he was the worst player on his team and Kai liked to be the best at everything.

London sat crossed-legged on the grass beside me. “He needs incentive.” She nodded to her daughter, Hope, who played with the barn cats along with Danny and a bunch of other kids from the Treasured Children’s Center. “And she needs to see her father kick ass.”

“I don’t think she’s paying attention to her father,” Georgie said, leaning forward to look past me to peer at London. “And Hope thinks her father is unbeatable. A fallacy I’m certain Kai put in her sweet little head.”

London laughed, her eyes on her daughter with long brown ringlets and sharp green eyes identical to Kai’s. If he ever had doubts about Hope being his, that was erased the second she was born. But I suspected Kai never had doubts.

“Cats are far more interesting and since her father gives her everything she wants, I’m thinking it won’t be long before we have one of those living in our house,” London said.

I was sure, too, because little girls had a special way with their fathers, meaning they knew how to get pretty much anything their hearts desired. And from what I’d seen, Kai denied Hope nothing.

“Oh, my God.” Georgie leapt to her feet and bounced up and down. “Go. Go. Go. Deck.”

Deck had the ball and was making his way to the goal. But right on his ass was Connor and he had that determined, cocky smirk on his face.

My chest swelled as I watched him chase after Deck, muscles flexed, hair rustled, and his skin glistening with sweat. But it was his cocky smirk that made my body tingle and my heart skip a beat.

Connor was home. I was home.

We were home.

It took us eleven years to get here, but we made it because our love was limitless. Connor loved to call it that and he’d had a local artist design a beautiful wooden plaque that said, ‘limitless love’. He hung it on the cabana in the backyard where we were married a month after he asked me question twenty.

There was nothing that would break us anymore, even the mangy, underweight orange cat that showed up at our door last year.

And Connor’s reaction when he saw the orange furball lapping at the bowl of milk I set out on the porch for it was simply, “Don’t get attached.”

So I did what any woman would do, I showed Skye the cat and she proceeded to squeal with delight then went running to her dad and asked if she could keep the cute orange cat out on the porch.

Simon was now a lazy, frumpy cat who loved strutting in front of Connor and purring as he rubbed himself against his leg.

But even though Simon had an odd attachment to Connor, he was our little girl Skye’s cat. He slept with her and never complained when she carried him around like a rag doll.

“Pregnancy hormones are insane and I need to get laid tonight.” Georgie collapsed beside me. “It will be an all-nighter if Deck wins.”

London snorted. I snickered.

Connor stole the ball from Deck and headed in the opposite direction. He kicked it to Deaglan who was, without a doubt, the best player. He and Tyler had got into an intense argument before the game. Deaglan was insistent the sport was called football, not soccer, and Tyler egged him on by calling it soccer whenever he could.

Deaglan had been back for a few weeks doing a job for Deck, although I didn’t know what that job was. Connor rarely discussed VUR business, but I did know Connor did most of the investigative work rather than going on missions.