For every hiss and growl he makes, I answer with a moan. We’re frenzied and feral. The desk shifts on the hardwood floor. The annoying blare of my BG alarm sounds a million miles away, and when Jester has the audacity to stop, I reach around to dig my nails in his thigh.
“Don’t you dare.” Because I swear to God, I’ll kill him if he stops.
“Are you close?”
“Yes.”
“Same,” he grunts, driving in deeper.
I unhook my nails from his leg and brace myself on the desk. My orgasm hits me as a million pinpoints of light. I’m weightless as an explosion of electricity ricochets to every nerve. I rasp out Jester’s name, wishing this moment could last forever. To hold on to this ecstasy for—
—long enough to forget my body doesn’t work like other people’s.
Damnit.
As I drift back to reality, guided by the BG alarm, Jester is behind me, thrusting into me, grinding out my name like a prayer. I gather my hair in one hand and look at him from over my shoulder. The sight of him climaxing is breathtaking, all raw power and stunning male beauty.
Jester slides out of me, his brow furrowed. “You okay?”
“A little shaky, but after that, I’m shocked I can still stand.” It’s a joke. Jester, however, isn’t laughing.
He grabs my phone and does a GB check. “Shit, Faith. You’re low.”
“Define low.”
He flashes the screen at me. Okay, yeah, that’s bad. “I’ll pop a glucose tab and we’ll get something to eat.” I close the distance between us and kiss his cheek through the thin layer of stubble. “I’m fine, baby. Seriously. I’ve been lower.”
But rarely by much.
He smooths a hand over my hair. His incredible eyes cut through me. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” I tweak the tip of his nose. “Unless you don’t feed me.” Right now, I’m sorry, but I can’t be serious. Not after the orgasm he gave me. The occasion calls for a healthy dose of humor and a hearty meal. I pick up his sweatpants and toss them at him. “Now hurry and put these on because you look too good naked.”
* * *
Out and about in Mayhem with Jester is…weird. With my hand tucked inside his, we stroll up Main Street, through the red-light district. Along with enforcer duties, he also occasionally does collections. Jester took the whole “no lies” thing to heart. He told me every detail of his life in real-time. I’m not complaining. Truth be known, I’ve always been fascinated with how the Unholy operates. Now, I get all the dirty details from my boyfriend.
My boyfriend.
I glance at Jester, and my heart slams against my sternum. My stomach also does this little flip-flop thing. Okay, so I wanted to murder him when we drove through town with my handiwork literally framed on the passenger’s side of his Jeep. The stubborn man won’t have the door repaired. I insisted on paying for it, but he flat-out refuses. I’m sure it’s him being a ball breaker but whatever.
Note to self: Make sure we take my car whenever possible instead of his Wrangler.
Jester’s wicked sense of humor is what I missed most because it’s such a huge part of his gigantic personality. The last seven years felt like living without the sun to light my world. I think that was the worst of it. That he stole the sunshine. He shoved me into the darkness, where I had to sharpen my teeth and bite my way back to Mayhem.
We grab a quick lunch at Blanche’s Diner, and I swear, half the town stopped by our table to say hello to Jester. They politely include me in their brief conversations with him when he makes it known we’re “together” together. Apparently, him being out with a female is a big deal since it’s rare.
Rare as innever.
We quit Blanche’s and leave the Jeep parked in the municipal lot in the center of town. It’s across from the square, where they finally replaced the dilapidated old gazebo. The new one is begging to be sat in—which I fully intend to do one of these days. But not today, unfortunately, because Jester has business he needs to tend to, and I’m morbidly curious to see him in work mode.
With his Unholy tattoo peeking out from behind his black tank top, people stare. Wait, no. That’s not accurate. They outright gawk. They also give us a wide berth. One guy actually crosses the street, nearly getting himself hit by a car in his haste to get away from Jester.
I nod at the man. “Does that happen often?”
Jester shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Doesn’t it get annoying?”
