Twice.
He chuckles.
His hair is cut shorter, with a curl to it, his face littered in scrapes, his arm is in some sort of sling across his chest, and he’s never looked so handsome.
He sports a white T-shirt and jeans I’ve never witnessed him wearing before now. Fucking jeans!
I blink.
“You’re adorable when you’re stunned, Little Toy.” I close my eyes to the sound of his nickname, the stabbing sensation in my chest too difficult to bear. But then I snap my eyes open in a panic, and when he steps forward into my space, I’m powerless to respond. “Has anyone ever told you that?” His hand strokes over my cheek, and I whimper at his loving touch.
“Azrael?” I swallow past the ball of emotions lodged in my throat.
A smile plays on his lips. “I’m here.”
“Are you dead?” I whisper, and he laughs a deep, rumbling laugh that shocks me as much as his appearance.
“Azrael Carrera is most definitely dead, but Aaron Conley is alive and well.” He lifts my hand and grazes his finger over my tattoo, and I gape down at his hand, my initials on his finger too.
“You chose our new names.” He had to have done for them to be the same as the tattoo.
“I did,” he confirms with a soft smile. “Can I kiss you now?” he says, dragging his finger over my lip.
“Are you staying?” I utter, my heart pounding furiously, and my legs threaten to buckle with the intensity of the situation. He’s alive.
“For a lifetime and thereafter.” He says it with a confidence I welcome throughout my body.
His lips press gently against mine, as if seeking entry, and I moan when our tongues caress one another’s. This isn’t just a kiss; this is a homecoming.
I wrap my hands around his neck to tug on the shortstrands of his hair, and he groans against me, pushing his hard length into my groin.
“I missed you so much,” he says, pulling back and panting heavily.
He rests his forehead against mine, and I’m grateful for it. I need to see his eyes, to fall into them, knowing he’s here to catch me.
“I thought you were dead.” I hiccup, and he brushes my hair from my cheek in a tender touch.
“I’m sorry about that. I needed my enemies to know I was gone for good, and I got waylaid on my way back to you.” He lifts his arm up in the sling. “I was supposed to be here before the news broadcast went live.”
I glance down at his arm. “What happened?”
“Just a burn. I had to call on your old doctor friend.”
“Jessica? Is she okay? You let her live?”
“She’s fine.” He rolls his eyes. “She patched me up, and then I came here.”
“How did you get out?” I point toward the TV. “They said you were dead.”
“There was only the footage of me going in and not coming out. I left enough DNA in the room for them to suspect me dying alongside him, and I now have close allies who have a coroner on their books to confirm it.”
“B-but how did you get out?”
He drops onto the couch and rubs his head. “Some crazy ass named Finn O’Connell, he drops from the ceiling on a fucking wire and gets me out. I was like the phoenix rising from the ashes my entire arm in flames, but it was worth it. I’d die a thousand deaths to be everything I’ve always wanted to be, here with you.”
My mouth falls open, and he tugs on my sweater to haul me between his legs. “Are you going to take me to bednow? I don’t like you in clothes.” His lip twitches, and I melt.
“I’ve missed you, mia luce,” he whispers, and the weight of his words floods me.
