Jericho kissed him again. “Good. ‘Cause I have no problems killing to protect what’s mine. I’m sure you know that by now.” Atticus slipped his thigh between Jericho’s, snuggling closer to tuck his head against his chest. “I know. I don’t like killing, but I’d kill for you, too.” Jericho’s stomach fluttered. “I know, Freckles. I know.”
