Devil’s Game (Reapers MC #3)(76)
Author: Joanna Wylde

“Jesus Christ, you’re a bitch!”

“And you’re a dick,” she said sweetly, starting to laugh. The pop ran out, but that didn’t stop her giggles. I grabbed my pants, jerking them back up as I stuffed my wet dick back inside.

“What the f**k was that all about?”

“Payback,” she said, eyes bright. “You got bested by a girl, and I have the video to prove it. C’mon, you have to admit that was better than what you had planned?”

I scowled.

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “Are you going to show the pictures to Skid?”

“What, don’t like naked pictures floating around that you can’t control? Wow, that must really suck. I wonder what that feels like?”

“You know damned well I’ll lose face if they think I can’t control my woman. It’s not the same thing.”

The instant I said it, I knew I’d f**ked up. Again. Christ, I should just crawl into a cave and die, it’d be more efficient.

“You want to try saying that a different way?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “Only this time, listen to your words very carefully in your head first. Then ask yourself whether you ever want me touching your penis again.”

“I’m a dick,” I said, raising a hand to run it through my hair. “This is not a secret. But I don’t want to control you, Em. You know that. Fuck.”

“And I don’t want to humiliate you in front of your brothers,” she said seriously. “I just wanted you to feel a little of what I felt. At least I didn’t lie to you about it.”

“You’re right,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “I don’t know what else to say, babe. You were right, I was wrong.”

“That came out a lot better this time,” she said, offering me a smile. Then her face grew serious. “You know, when I kicked you before, it felt damned good, but it’s not like it changed anything. Am I supposed to torture you—just because I can—every time you screw up? I f**king love you, ass**le. I don’t like seeing you in pain. That’s why lying to me was so horrible in the first place.”

I took a deep breath, overwhelmed. Fuck, I hated shit like this.

“I don’t deserve you, babe. But this last night? It’s like I died. If you forgive me, I swear to you—I swear—I will never knowingly do anything to hurt you again.”

“Knowingly?” she asked, cocking a brow. “That’s a pretty big loophole.”

“Let’s be honest here,” I said, throwing it all out. “We both know I’m gonna f**k up. But I’m pretty sure I love you, Em.”

Her breath caught.

“What did you just say?”

“I love you,” I repeated, the words tasting strange in my mouth. “At least, I think I love you. I’ve never felt this way before, but I can’t imagine caring about anyone more than this. I want to be with you, Emmy. Hell, I offered to let you kick my balls just so you’d feel better. Doesn’t that count for something?”

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms tight around my neck. I reached around her hesitantly, then pulled her close. Shallow man that I am, my c**k immediately hardened, despite the cold Diet Coke shower.

“I love you, too,” she whispered. “But I need to know one more thing.”

“What?”

“Which picture did you keep?”

I stilled. Now there was a trick question. All of them were damning, but I had a feeling she’d hate the one I kept the most.

“The one of your ass all covered with my jizz,” I muttered, feeling like a bigger prick than ever before in my life. “It’s really hot, babe.”

She started laughing into my shoulder, or at least I hoped to hell she was laughing and not crying.

“Will you erase it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll forgive you. This time. But you don’t get another pass. No more lies. It’s a deal breaker for me, Liam.”

“Fuckin’ love my name comin’ out of your mouth.”

“I know,” she said. “I have a present for you.”

“Really?” I asked, pulling back to study her face. “What? Crap, that’s the wrong question. Why?”

“Maybe because I love you. Or maybe because you shouldn’t get out of this totally free and clear. So you have a choice . . . reunion sex—right here, right now—or you can keep that one special picture, so long as you never show it to anyone.”

Hellfire. And I thought the last one was a trick question.

“Can we got back to the getting-kicked-in-the-balls option instead?”

EM

“I still can’t believe you picked the photo,” I grumbled.

“Maturity is all about delaying pleasure to improve your situation long term,” Hunter said, grinning at me. “Love you, Em.”

I rolled my eyes. He’d said it something like ten times now, and as much as I enjoyed hearing the words, I was starting to feel like maybe we needed a new topic of conversation.

It was getting dark outside, and we’d just passed through Post Falls. A nasty, freezing rain had started as we drove through Spokane, slowing traffic. I saw at least four cars in the ditch along the way—I’d never admit it, but I was actually kind of glad Hunter was driving.

I was kind of glad we weren’t fighting anymore, too.

Not only that, Kit had texted a couple times, talking about all the different foods she’d bought for our dinner tomorrow. We loved cooking together, and while it wasn’t the same without Mom, I never felt closer to her than in the kitchen with my sister.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I asked Hunter yet again. “I know it sounds like a joke, but Dad seriously has a history of shooting my boyfriends. He says it’s an accident, but after the second attempt you start to wonder.”

“Your other boyfriends weren’t like me,” he replied without a hint of concern. “The fact is, I’m with you and that’s not gonna change. Picnic and I will come to an understanding. Don’t worry about it.”

I tried to picture how that might play out.

“If he asks you for six goats in exchange for me, you don’t have to actually buy real goats. He’d probably take kegs instead.”

Hunter snorted, then reached over, putting his hand on my knee.

“Don’t worry about it, Em. You said you’d give me another shot, so trust me on this one. I’ve got it covered.”