Love & Other Killers

by Brynne Weaver

“Shut it, Budget Batman. Not one more word.”

“And you deserve it.” I smile. “What, to win?” “No.” He tightens his grip around my waist. Presses a kiss to my neck. “You deserve everything.”

“Aww come on, you’re not serious about this twenty-minute shite—” “Brother,” Rowan interjects as he drops an arm over my shoulders, “my adorably murdery wife will suck the eyeball from your face with an industrial-size vacuum in your sleep if you won’t stick to the deal.”

“I thought you’d said you’d take a raccoon to the face for me. And I’m not even putting her in your face. It’s chest-level raccooning.”

“You’re adorable when you’re angry,” Rowan calls after us. “Get fucked, Butcher.” “Love you, too, Peaches.”

“You should call Rowan over, Sloane. Maybe take a bird or two for dinner tonight. He could have a full circle moment. Nearly.” Rose turns her watering eyes up to us when I huff a laugh. “Huh . . . ?” “Rowan accidentally ate a guy once. I had to dig human rump roast out of his mouth,” I say with a shrug. Rose heaves again. “But that’s when he also admitted he had a crush on her, so it’s actually pretty romantic if you think about it,” Lark pipes up. 35 “I’d rather not.”

I do find a tub of Tillamook Cookies & Cream ice cream, however, and snap a photo on my burner phone to send to Rowan. Ahh, memories. Do you think this was milked fresh? I can check the label if you want. 37 Are you intending to win this year’s game by making me sick to my stomach? Because it’s working.

“You might have cheated with that vacuum trick,” he says as I dig my fingers into his ribs, “but you deserve that win. Now let’s make you that web, Orb Weaver.” And we do.

“Do you think the FBI will figure it out this time? That I left them a web?” “Maybe. Maybe not. I dunno. But I am sure about one thing.” “Let me guess. That we should call it a draw.” Rowan chuckles. “No, love.” He drops an arm across my shoulders, and I lean into his warmth as he presses a kiss to the crown of my head. “That they’ll marvel at the Orb Weaver. My goddess of chaos.”

My faux pout does little to disguise the teasing grin that begs to erupt as I give his face a gentle pat. “Just take it like a good boy.” The change in Rowan is instantaneous. From wary interest to absolute hunger. From man to ravenous beast. I shriek as he grabs my waist and drags me to the center of the bed in a single swift tug. And then he’s looming over me, devouring every laugh that tumbles from my lips. “Like a good boy, love?” he says as he drags my sleep shorts down my legs and tosses them to the floor. I can barely cage my moan as he spreads my thighs and prowls toward my pussy. “When have I ever fucked you like a good boy?”