Morbidly Yours (Love in Galway, #1)

by Ivy Fairbanks

“If this ledge gives, think we’d hover in the air until we look down and realize where we are?” Closer to his usual deadpan self, he squinted at me. Maybe he didn’t appreciate the joking reminder of the ledge-collapse possibility and my using animation logic in the real world. “It’s a philosophical commentary about how observation changes the phenomenon. I know how inertia works,” I said. Thinking about lying in bed with Callum had changed the moment. Blame my sex-deprived brain. “Think I’ll stand.”

She gave my shoulder an affectionate nudge. “Classic. Contemplative Cancer.” How the hell? “Run a background check on me, didya, then?” “Pfft. I just did the math. Besides, this”—Lark gestured to my entire form—“screams crustacean. I had you pegged as a water sign from the first time we met.” “I don’t believe in that. And refrain from suggesting you’ve pegged me, please.” “Would you let me run your natal chart? You’re a Scorpio moon, I bet.”

My cock sprang free from my boxer briefs. “Who knew the reaper had such a pretty scythe?” “What did you just call my penis?”

“Last night was…” Profoundly satisfying on every emotional and physical level. “A lot of fun.”

I wasn’t a fierce pirate queen, but my roller derby name wasn’t Dolly Pardon My French for nothing.

You make me feel alive even when I’m surrounded by death.”

It’s not personal. Just business,” I said. “Now get the fuck out of my home.”