Wicked and Forever (Wicked & Devoted 6)

Slowly, her lashes fluttered open. He filled her vision, his expression achingly soft, his eyes full of remorse. More tears spilled down her cheeks.

“You believe me?” The question slipped out, and a foolish part of her wished she could take it back. The hopeful, headstrong girl inside her who had faced so much of life alone wanted him forever. But the woman in her—the realist—took over. “Never mind. You do not have to—”

He placed a finger over her lips. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry, Laila. I fucked up. I was an asshole, and I have no problem admitting it. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I-I do not understand.”

“I saw the full video of you and Victor on his phone, including the parts you cut off, so I know what really happened. I know the lengths you went to in order to save me. I’m just sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Laila felt her eyes widen—and hope fill her heart…even as it shattered. “I had given you no reason to. I only meant to protect you, but…”

“I know you did.” His expression gentled even more. “You risked everything to keep me safe, the way you do for your family. And I love you for that.”

“I have seen Victor and his minions kill people horribly for even the smallest slight, so after you killed his brother and risked everything to protect me, I shudder to imagine what he would do to you. I do not want to live in a world without you.”

“Oh, honey…you don’t have to.” Then he scowled at her. “But if you ever sacrifice yourself for me again like that, I will make the orgasm deprivation you suffered tonight seem like an easy-breezy paradise—right before I blister your ass. Are we clear?”

She looked away again, trying to understand her two very different reactions. Her feverish body, desperate for the relief only he could give her, flushed hot and began to throb. Why she should be aroused by his threats of punishment was something she still did not comprehend.

Right behind that response came the opposite reaction. Giving up wasn’t in her vocabulary, mostly because she knew they weren’t out of danger. They might never be. If cutting out her heart and leaving him now would keep Trees safe and alive, Laila would do it. But he was in too deep. Both Victor and Montilla knew he was involved. She and Trees were safer together. And it was selfish, some part of her was glad.

“You expect me to do nothing because I am female? Because I am smaller?” She shook her head. “If I can save you, I always will.”

Trees sighed. “I know you’re a fighter. You’ve had to be. But it’s my role to save you.” When she opened her mouth to rebut him, he held up a hand. “How about I make you a deal? If I need rescuing and no one else can do it, you can—as long as you don’t put yourself in danger, okay? And if you ever concoct another scheme to put down the bad guys, talk to me first. Your plan might have succeeded if you’d had trained operatives, backup, weapons, equipment… But you’re never my first line of defense. Do you understand?”

It went against her grain to back down, but Laila grasped what he was saying. He had a whole team behind him, and as a well-trained warrior, he wanted to do his job. He was merely asking her to respect that.

“Yes.”

His smile transformed his face and brightened up her world. “Good. Now come here to me.”

He scooped her up in his arms, blanket and all, and headed for the stairs.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to take care of you, honey. The way I should have all along.” He nudged the door open wider with his shoulder, ducking to avoid the hanging rack in his closet, and kicked the opening closed behind them. Then he carried her through his bedroom, to the dining room table, where he set her in a chair, wrapped the blanket tighter to ward off the chill, and dropped a soft kiss to her lips. “First, I’m going to feed you.”

“That is not necessary.”

Trees sent her a quelling stare. “It is. You’ve barely eaten. What sounds good?”

The fact he wanted to feed her, nurture and take care of her choked her up. No one had done that for her since childhood. The pesky tears stung her eyes again. “Whatever you want.”

He came closer, brows a disapproving slash as he crouched beside her. “It’s not about me. Right now, I’m here for you, and you deserve to have what you want. Tell me.”

Despite the blanket, she was cold to the bone. Tired, too. She wanted something warm and comforting. “Soup?”

“What kind? Everything I have will come out of a can, but…” He poked his head in his pantry and rattled off more than a dozen flavors.

“Gumbo. I have never had that.”

Trees smiled. An hour ago, when he had been withholding orgasms and demanding answers, he had looked intimidating, severe…yet so sexy her body ached. Now, the warm welcome on his face sent her heart fluttering.

“Until I moved here, I’d never had it, either,” he told her in a conspiratorial murmur. “The stuff out of a can is passable. If you like that, someday I’ll take you to a restaurant I’ve found that makes downright amazing gumbo.”

Would they be together that long? Would they even be alive? Would it be safe enough to go on something like a date?