My arms find themselves around the back of Marshall’s neck as I pull him in and move my body slowly against his as if we were slow dancing. Those intense sonic waves that emulate every orgasm I have ever had vibrate deep into my bones and I close my eyes and bite down over my lip in a fit of ecstasy. “Marshall,” I moan his name out with all of my might.
All of my anger, the bitterness, the animosity, it needs an outlet, something creative, something equally destructive.
“Ms. Messenger.” Marshall arches a brow, his crooked dirty smile gracing me with its presence. “I do believe you have ill intentions.”
“I need to get some energy out.” I cock my head to the side. “You don’t approve of my actions?”
“I no more trust your actions at this hour than I do your words. I believe you’ll need some time.”
“Are you rejecting me so soon?”
That devilish smile twitches again, but he won’t give it. “Never. Only a fool would toss you to the wind.” His gaze flits to the floor as if he were sorry for the words as soon as they left his lips.
“A fool did toss me to the wind, and I was caught by the power of my own wings.” I nod up at him. “I’ve absolved myself from needing a man psychologically—but I’m far from needing one physically.” I’m not sure I believe the former. First of all, my heart is aching with such a horrific pain, and that could only be sponsored by the fact I love Gage. I hate that I love him, but I do. And furthermore, I rather like the idea of revenge fueled sex. I lift my own brow at the wily Sector, but he pretends not to hear me.
A wry smile comes to my lips. I’m fine with it. I rather like our little cat and mouse game anyhow. It distracts me. Sleeping with Marshall would infuriate Gage. Maybe I should call Logan and invite him for a threesome.
Marshall flinches as if I struck him.
Hell, I should drag Ellis Harrison into the mix, Coop, and Wesley. My heart stops cold at the thought. No, not Wesley. God, not Wesley. Wesley is essentially Gage’s twin in every way. The thought of Wesley Edinger grinding over me, his heavy lids pried open enough just to spy on me to see if I’ve got my gaze locked over him, makes me shudder. Wes is greedy that way. A complete narcissist. He’s so insecure, I bet he demands Laken keep her eyes feasted on him the entire time he’s filling her with his semen.
He’s disgusting. The entire situation he’s embroiled Laken in is disgusting. He was so desperate to have her, it wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn that Wes arranged for the feds to kidnap my poor friend just to wipe her memory clean of her true love, Cooper Flanders. But per usual, things worked to Wesley’s advantage—as most things do—and now they have a kid together. A little girl named Charlie who happens to look exactly like Cooper Flanders, aka her real father. The truth will come out, I’m sure, and it will backfire spectacularly in Wesley’s Demetri-inspired face. Just like marrying Chloe will backfire on Gage. I’ll make sure of it myself. I might be devoting every free moment of my life from here on out to get my people back where they belong—to the top of the celestial food chain, but I will make a glorious hobby out of making Gage and Chloe’s existence miserable. I’ll make sure they’ll both rue their own skin, let alone each other’s.
“Marshall?” I take a deep breath and my chest presses hard over his. “Remember that time you were telling me that once we were married, should we argue, it would be conducted naked and in bed?” I don’t waste any time in getting right to the point.
His head inches back, his gaze pinned to mine with suspicion. He takes a moment to glance to the rear of the house as if assessing whether or not he indeed issued the decree. And hell, I can’t remember if it was him either. It could have been Logan or Gage for that matter. Lord knows I’m in an unfit headspace to recall anything correctly. But that’s neither here nor there.
I pull Marshall down toward me by way of his slick silver tie. “Well, Professor Dudley—” Marshall is a professor at Host University, but he still teaches part-time at West Paragon High. I have a feeling we will all gravitate back there one by one. I can feel it calling us, our mascot Cerberus barking in the night, howling with grief because he misses his children. “Tonight is your lucky night. I feel an argument coming on.”
If Gage is having sex with someone else, then so will I.
A dark laugh rumbles from his chest to mine. “There will be no thundering beneath the sheets for the two of us, Ms. Messenger. Not this horrific evening. You are hardly in the correct frame of mind.”
“I am exactly in the correct frame of mind.” My hands slide down his back and I give his rock-solid bottom a hearty squeeze. “And besides, we don’t really need a bed, now do we?” I purr as I hike up on my tiptoes.
“Ms. Messenger, the fine gentry is staring. You are causing quite the celestial scene.”
“The fine gentry can go screw themselves and they are, Marshall.” There’s a slight whine to my tone and I don’t like hearing it. “Why should they have all the fun?”
“Is this how you’d like our first time to be?” He’s openly frowning at me, inspecting me with his eyes slit to nothing as he tips his head back. “Revenge for Jock Straps’ stupendous blunder?”
My heart wrenches when he calls him that. It’s a pet name, an insult really, that Marshall has had for Gage right from the beginning. Marshall always seems to stray from calling people by their formal monikers, most people anyhow. I take that back. Marshall is rather hyper formal.
“Yes,” I hiss to his face. “I will have my revenge and I will have it with you. You and I both know it wouldn’t be our first rodeo under those sheets. You’ve taken me in more ways, on more days than either of my previous husbands combined, and you know it.” It’s true. Marshall has claimed me in my dreams, and God, those were no mere nocturnal wanderings. They were real in every sense of the word and he knows it. Marshall has found a sexual loophole and he’s thrust right into it, and right into me by proxy. “And furthermore, I am your spirit wife, the one you have pledged your celestial devotion to. You are also my spirit guide or spirit spouse or spirit whatever—the one who I can command to do my spectacular bidding. So you see, I have double charge over you and I have full say in how we end this long, horrible night.”
“It’s morning, Skyla. The sun is cresting the horizon.”
“Lucky for you, I do love my morning sex. There isn’t a more invigorating way to start the day.” A horrible sadness envelops me because morning sex happened to be my favorite with Gage. Most of the time I would simply wake up and find myself already having sex with Gage. Of course, I was always a willing partner, and what he started I almost always showed up to finish. I teased him on more than one occasion that he was my alarm. Big Ben. I had called his most prized member that on a few occasions. Now, ironically, Gage himself had morphed into one big dick.
Unfathomable how far we have fallen. Unrelenting this nightmare he’s trapped us in. It’s as if he never considered the cost. What could be worth the price he’s paid? A seat on some ridiculous throne? And why in the name of all that is holy and right would he drag the queen demon, and nail her down by his side? He nailed her, all right. In my very presence, he took Chloe and made her his wife.
My head tips back with a groan.
Focus.
I jerk forward and look Marshall Dudley in the eye. Marshall rarely smiles. His spoken words are laced with razor sharp barbs. He oozes testosterone without trying. His hair is golden, his features hewn from marble, and that body can make an entire legion of angels break out into a hallelujah choir. Marshall is a man’s man. Tough as nails, get to the point, get the damn job done, and the only job he has to do at the moment is me.
“Nice segue.” He lifts a brow, his face otherwise bored by my internal diatribe.
