Page 19 of Unwritten Vows

I search his face for the lie. There must be a lie in this.

There must be some ulterior motive. But for the life of me, I can’t find it.

And I might be an idiot for believing this sweet little proclamation, but I do.

My defenses, so strong earlier today, have fallen away like the colorful leaves of autumn off a wind-shaken tree.

I feel naked, but shockingly invulnerable.

I feel like… he’ll protect me the way he did just minutes ago.

Still, I could be wrong about him. And if I am, I’ll be giving something away that I’ve never given, even to those nice guys who brought me flowers and books, who looked at me sweetly through stylish glasses, who studied with me until all hours of the night in the library.

None of them felt right. Why does this feel so different?

“When did you do all of this? Why did you kill that guy? You could have just left him. What… what is all of this?”

“Like I said, I did it for you. Because I’m able to.

I did it so that you’d feel comfortable.

At first I did it because our parents wanted us together, and I knew I was coming to New York City for you.

But… there are more reasons now.” He breathes out slowly, looking at me intensely, and I feel a significant throb between my legs.

I want that breath inside of me. I want all of him inside of me. “Why?”

“Because you like it. It freaks you out, but you like it. And I like doing things for you that you like.” He kisses my knuckles and blows warm breath onto my hands again.

“And I’ve killed before, sweet Liza. So has your father.

So has every man I know in this business.

But killing for you? For your safety?” He grasps both my wrists in his hands now and pulls me toward him slowly.

There’s nowhere for me to hide my expression now—no way for me to bury my feelings inside of myself.

I can’t keep the strange ache for him off my face.

“That’s my favorite kill. My most fulfilling.

For some reason, protecting you was so natural that I didn’t even think twice.

I don’t know what it is. You’re just so…

so sweet.” He unravels my fingers from the loose fist they’re in and sucks the pointer into his mouth. “So fucking sweet.”

I gulp with nervousness, even while licking my lips, nearly salivating over him.

“You’re still freezing, sweet little Liza.

We’ll need some comfortable, warm pajamas for you.

” He blinks and, just like that, he drops my hands.

I mourn the loss of his warm, soft lips.

Fuck, I want him. I want him more than anything else I’ve ever wanted.

He saved my life , I think, nearly panting with need.

He saved my life… and he loved every second of it.

He crushed that guy’s throat in his fingers for my safety.

Derrick comes back with some velour pajamas, laying them on the bed and peeking over at me.

“My room is just across the hall.” He says the words, but he doesn’t move.

His eyes hold me captive. He wants me to say it.

He always wants me to say it to him, even though he just orally fucked my finger a moment ago and made me explode all over his tongue earlier tonight.

I don’t want to ask. I can’t bear to ask. But somehow, I push some timid words past my lips. “Just PJs? What about some body heat? Can’t have me catching a cold on your watch, right?”

This entire night has been so strange and different. Each night I’ve spent with Derrick has been this way, in fact. I thought I’d hate him coming in and screwing up my life. But it seems that my body and, admittedly, my mind, likes something about this chaos.

“You’re… absolutely right,” he says, moving himself down to the bed. “I’m just not sure I can lie next to you without feeling all sorts of strange feelings. You give me my own type of sickness, Liza.”

“Maybe it’s a remedy for something else,” I say, my lip tipping up in the corner, smiling for the first time since I saw a man murdered in front of me just minutes ago.

This is a bad fucking idea, but something about this night—the adrenaline, the crash, and then the reignition of the feelings from the past few days—has me melting all over this bed.

“Maybe you’ll be the death of me,” he says, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. His arms pull me closer, but he doesn’t make the move I so desperately need him to make.

We stare at each other for too long, and finally he speaks. “I won’t do it until you say it, sweet Liza. You know what I want you to do. Fucking beg me. Beg me like your eyes are right now. Beg me like you’ve wanted to beg me since I crushed a man’s throat in my fist for you.”

I let out a gasping sigh and say what he wants to hear. What I truly want, even though I know it’s a terrible idea. I know I’m getting myself into hot fucking water, but for the first time in my life, I want what I want, damn the consequences. “I want you to fuck me, Derrick.”