Page 89 of Perdition

Tenderness threaded through everything. When one of them faltered—a sudden impulse or a moment of fatigue—the otherbecame anchor without question. Emily traced constellations across Mads’s collarbone with her fingers, and then her lips and tongue, her touch mapping reassurance. He cupped her face and let silence do the heavy lifting, a quiet presence that spoke louder than any vow. Their intimacy was never performance; it was practice—years of learning how to hold each other through laughter, panic, boredom, and ardor.

After, when motions slowed and the need for action itself ebbed, they remained wrapped in a small, warm island. Mads wrapped an arm around Emily’s shoulders; she tucked her head against his chest, listening to the familiar staccato of his heartbeat like a favorite song. The lamp glowed, the outside world softened to a whisper, the city outside resuming its patient hum.

When sleep finally edged its way toward them, it did so without urgency. They drifted together, not collapsing but folding into each other with deliberation. In the dim hours, Emily’s breath slowed to match Mads’s, and he kissed the crown of her head as if sealing their shared history with a final, gentle benediction. There was no thunder now—only the steady murmur of night and the intimacy of two people who had come home to each other, again and again.

He woke her again in the night, and the worship began once more.

TWENTY-SIX

Later that night,after their fourth round of love making, spent and warm and wholly satisfied, the time for conversation had come…though she wasn’t quite ready for that conversation yet.

Nothing wrong with delaying the inevitable for a few minutes longer…right?

“What happens with Sarah? Are you really going to get her sent to prison?” Em asked, not curious as much as petty. She wanted that woman suffering by any means necessary, and if that was behind bars as some other woman’s bitch, then so be it.

Mads heaved a sigh, his hand on her back going still.

“More than likely I’ll send her south.”

Em pushed up on her elbow to look down into Mads’s face. “What’s south?”

“I have a contact an MC in Philly who owes me a debt. He’d come here to retrieve her and bring her back with him, make sure to keep her eyes on her so she can’t cause us any more trouble.”

That wasn’t far enough, in Em’s opinion. She’d rather have the woman in a mine in China, but Philly was better than Scranton.

“That seems like he’d be taking on a lot of responsibility for a long time,” Em noted, feeling sorry for a man she’d never met.

Mads hummed, tucking her hair behind her ear as he brushed his thumb over her cheek.

“Don’t feel bad for him, baby. I saved his life, so this is a life debt, one he’ll gladly pay.”

Em gasped, her eyes widening in shock.

How come she’d never heard this?

“What the hell?” she cried.

He chuckled. “That’s a story for another time, my love.” With a move that was all Mads and all sorts of sexy, he pushed up and flipped her onto her back.

Grinning that sexy, wicked grin down at her, he dropped his voice and said, “I need you again.”

She gasped, then groaned when he pressed his hardness against her aching core.

They didn’t come up for air until the phone rang the next morning.

It was Patriot, and he had bad news.

Tasha, a former club hangaround, was in the hospital, and it wasn’t looking good.

After the drama with her sister Sasha, and Stallion’s sister Jaime, when they betrayed the club and tried to break up Patriot and Cilla, Tasha had disappeared from the MC for a while, feeling guilty for having any part of her sister’s schemes. Eventually, she came back and, patiently and determinedly, worked her way back into Cilla’s life. They were somewhat friends now, and Tasha and Tornado had become close—though there was history there that neither of them were talking about.

That news having killed their mood, Em got up, showered, dressed, and headed into the kitchen to start the coffee.

Mads watched the entire time, not leaving her side for a moment, because they still had to have their conversation.

Do or die.

Steaming coffee mug in hand, Em lead Mads into the living room, and took a seat on the couch. She wasn’t surprised when he sat down right next to her.