Cannon (Carolina Reapers 5)

This time, when her orgasm took her, I could have sworn I saw stars in her eyes, and when she whispered, “I love you, Cannon,” I saw the same stars behind mine as I came hard, spilling myself inside her. As we came down, I tucked her into my side and brushed a kiss across her forehead.

A tugging at the covers got our attention, and Persephone rolled slightly, then laughed. “Seriously? Right now?” She stumbled out of the bed, shaking her head as she headed for the closet.

I leaned over to see Cerberus playing tug of war with our covers. “Seriously, my man?”

Persephone emerged from the closet in her bathrobe. “I’ll take him out.”

“I’ll get him,” I insisted.

“Absolutely not.” She pointed her finger at me. “You just blew my mind. This is the least I can do.” She scooped up the puppy and headed toward the glass, double doors that led to the back yard. “You might act like a baby, but you’re sure showing me I’m not ready for a real one, you needy little thing!” She giggled, holding him up to kiss his nose.

Once she was outside, I pulled on my boxer briefs and followed her as far as the door, watching her walk the yard in her bare feet with Cerberus at her heels.

You’ll always be it for me. My words haunted me as I watched my wife in the moonlight.

The truth of it was damning. Even when this fell to shit, when she realized that I wasn’t good enough for her, or she was unable to forgive my eventual fuck-up or slip of my temper, I would want her. My body…my soul would ache for her for the rest of my life.

Fuck, I was in this too deep.

We both were.

She might think she loved me, but it was really just infatuation. Love came with trials. With pain and acceptance. With sacrifice. She was high on endorphins from orgasms and the same rush of happiness I’d felt from us playing house the last few months.

When the chips were down, she’d realize it wasn’t love.

Then we’d both be fucked.

I raked my hands over my hair and barely stopped myself from putting a hole in the fucking wall as the rage swept over me. I’d done everything I could to protect her mother’s happiness and to give Persephone the same while we rode out this ruse.

But I hadn’t protected her from her own heart.

I’d fucking failed her because when this all came crashing down, she was going to get hurt. And if agony tore through my chest at the thought of losing her—which it did, then I couldn’t imagine the pain she’d suffer when this ended.

And I was twice the villain because I’d taken her heart without giving my own, and I couldn’t bring myself to stop. I couldn’t stop laughing with her, or touching her, or making love to her. I was the reason this had gone too far, and yet I knew as she headed back toward me, that I wouldn’t spare us both and end it now.

I was too fucking desperate for her, too addicted.

As she reached the door, I swept her against me and shut it, ready for my next hit of Persephone.

16

Persephone

The weekend of wedding festivities had finally arrived. I surveyed the club I’d grown up in and the man standing next to me as we inspected the wedding rehearsal ballroom. My eyes took in the clean, crisp lines of whitewashed hardwood, the rich wooden tables draped in cream linens, and the elevated stage where Cannon and I would sit.

We’d officially be married at my parents’ estate, but for the rehearsal? An elegant dinner and evening of dancing at the club is what we’d decided on.

I squeezed Cannon’s hand in mine, glancing up at him. “Does it look okay to you?”

His eyes met mine. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “Your mother has amazing taste. Just like you.”

I grinned up at him.

“What?” He furrowed his brow.

“You admit I have good taste.”

He shrugged. “So?”

“That means I have amazing taste in men.” I eyed him, and he rolled his.

Cannon opened his mouth, likely to argue, but my cell rang, cutting him off. “Speak of the devil,” I said, showing him the screen alight with my mother’s picture. I swiped to answer the call. “Hey, Mom, we’re just checking out the club—”

“Sephie!” My mother’s voice was tear-soaked.

“Are you okay?” I asked, dropping Cannon’s hand as I instinctively headed toward the exit.

“I’m more than perfect!” she said, and I slowed my pace. Cannon rested his hand on the small of my back, a silent show of support. “Sephie,” she said again, and a choked sob tore from her lips.

“Mama, what is it?” Tears filled my eyes, a building panic I couldn’t understand.

“They found a donor! Someone with the same rare blood type as mine. They’ve scheduled me for two days after the wedding! Can you believe it? I get to see you get married, and then I get a kidney!”