Page 117 of The Art of Obsession

Sure hope you’re ready for his reaction when he figures out “you know what”.She makes air quotes and flaps her wings, tossing her curls onto her shoulder.

I fight back the laughter pulsing through my chest while drumming my fingers lightly against the edge of the bed. My heart skips a beat at the thought of him waking, and I’m almost certain he’ll want to punish me. But he deserves it. And it’s worth it. “I think he’ll notice pretty quickly.”

Cherry tilts her head playfully.Just call it poetic justice. Cruel justice, woman. Just cruel.Oh, she knows she loved the idea even more than I did.

I shift my weight, finally sitting on the edge of the bed, my fingers brushing Cal’s hand. He’s still warm, stillalive.And somehow, that’s all that matters right now. “Let’s just hope he wakes up soon.” The room is quiet again, save for his rhythmic breathing. I lean forward, my heart racing, and whisper, “Please wake up, Cal. I can’t do this alone.”

When it doesn’t work, I say to hell with it. And I kick him. I kick him hard…in the same side where he had surgery.

A deep groan has me nearly diving out of my chair.

“Cal?” I touch his chest, leaning closer. “Cal, wake up, please wake up.”

He groans again, but his eyes flutter open, a muscle bouncing in his jaw. “I’d say you interrupted a beautiful dream, Little Quill,” he mutters, those dark eyes, those impossible, all-consuming dark eyes locking me in their gaze, “but you just made it come true.”

51

For love is the ultimate obsession

Chapter Playlist:

“Awaken” – Breaking Benjamin

“A Twist in My Story” – Secondhand Serenade

“Take Me Back to Eden” – Sleep Token

“Close to Heaven” – Breaking Benjamin

“The End is Where We Begin” – Thousand Foot Krutch

“My Love Will Never Die” – Claire Wyndham

CAL

“How long have I been asleep?”I ask, lifting a weak hand toward my precious historian.

“Five weeks.”

Explains the muscle fatigue. The first thing I notice is

the sensation of the mask on my face. And then…oh, that naughty, little girl.

I deadpan with her, picking up on the slight tugging of the corner of her mouth and the sparkle in her silvery eyes. Crooking a finger, I summon her to me. She purses her lips, swallows hard, but ultimately obeys, approaching tentatively. I flick myeyes down to her fidgety hands. A proud heat rolls through me at her swollen belly, and I’m relieved to know she and our child are whole and unharmed.

Seizing her throat with every ounce of strength I have, I tilt my head. Her eyes widen, and she avoids my gaze, biting her lower lip until I bark, “Look at me.” It comes out more like a rasp. Regardless, it does the trick, and she snaps her eyes back to mine. “Everleigh Lennox. Did you lock a fucking cock cage on mymanhood?”

She winces. “Oh, you deserve it just for that word.” She giggles uncontrollably, and I can’t help but admire my little minx. “Besides, turnaround’s fair play, especially with what you’ve put me through the past five weeks.”

All the blood in my body surges south at how adorable she looks.

“Yes…” I lower my voice as best I can. “Please tell me the trial you’ve endured of two bullet holes and undoubtedly countless hours of surgery.”

She stabs a quivering finger at me. “Well, excuse you, Mr.-I-shot-myself-the-second-time,” she reminds me. “Like an attention-starved, sad, dramatic maniacal prick.”

Fuck. More blood. My stiffening cock begins to cause discomfort. “What did you say to me?”

“Oh, sorry.” She rolls her eyes. “Did I insult your ego, you boneheaded buffoon of a twat waffle?”